Sicilia

Sicilia

Sometimes after nearly a day in the air, and in airports, you might just want something simple and familiar to keep your energy up.

A coke zero was the request.  A firm, but polite “No!” was the answer.  That would not do.  The caffeine could come at the end of the meal in your espresso.  Something bubbly was in order, but in this case it was a sparkling Inzolia and Nerello Cappuccio white, “Bianca di Nera”.  Perfect in every way, and it became the “coke zero” of our trip to Sicilia.

We just missed a withering Sirocco that had blasted the island of Sicilia a week before, with temperatures over 110 and sand from the Sahara coating every surface.  Thankfully, the temperatures stayed in the mid 70’s to low 80’s for our entire visit, a perfect way to experience the sun soaked island.

Sicilia has been at the crossroads of the Mediterranean since the first civilizations set out in boats to explore and conquer the lands and islands all around this middle of the earth.  A multitude of cultures, conquerors, religions, and people have influenced the fabric of the island.  Just off the tip of Calabria, just north of Tunisia, it is a place that so many of us know so little about. 

Flying in from Rome we could see the rocky cliffs rising out of the deep blue waters.  The hills are stone monoliths with severe drops that surround Palermo and the nearby towns.  Looking at a map of the island you might only notice Mt. Etna in the east, and not even notice the varied and jagged landscape that covers the west.

One thought about driving in Sicilia.  Don’t.  Unless you are comfortable with the idea that street signs, lane markers, or rules of the road are merely just suggestions.  They drive fast, show no mercy, drive small cars down even smaller streets, and tailgate at 100 km to get people to move over. After millennia on the island, Sicilians aren’t in the mood to wait around for someone to get out of the way.  It’s best to let a local do the driving so you can concentrate on the scenery and holding on for dear life.  Needless to say, the taxi ride into Palermo from the airport was much shorter than expected.  

Our first dinner was some of the island’s greatest hits; caponata and other eggplant iterations, fresh fish and simple pastas.  Plus some of the now ubiquitous “coke zero”.  Not life changing, but so much better than airplane food.  The real journey into the food and wines of the island would begin in the morning.

The name Marsala is associated with so many mediocre veal or chicken dishes at any number of the vaguely Italian restaurants across America.  Too often just sweet and fairly one dimensional as a wine, we were curiously optimistic to take a chance to visit the town for which it is named.  The place where Garibaldi’s “Thousand Men” landed and marched to liberate Italy, it is a beautiful seaside city on the far western point of the island, with narrow stone streets, the requisite cathedrals and piazzas, Marsala is an undiscovered Gem for most. In the heat of summer it seems like it could be a little unbearable, but the constant winds that make nearby kite boarding a popular sport would make the days tolerable. 

We weren’t there to really taste the wines, though we tasted a few at our new favorite enoteca “La Sirena Ubriaca”, or “the Drunken Mermaid”.  Little more than a few wine barrels with bar stools outside in the shaded part of the narrow street we began what would become an avalanche of foods, wines and liquors on our trip.  We enjoyed a lovely Rosa di Nero, a rosato of Nero d’Avola, and were given some tasty little crostini with various toppings; pistachio pesto, tapenade, chickpea puree, spicy pepper relish, salty fish.  You can’t just order wine, there must always be food when in Italy!  We grabbed a bottle of a Dry Marsala to take along for future drinking as we headed to our planned lunch at I Bucanieri, right on the water.  

 

 More of our favorite bubbly, plus some Grillo, to go with our bruschetta of Pomodoro with bottarga, a huge antipasti plate of various crudo; tuna two ways, Gambero rosso, langoustine, polpo, white fish, and the most amazing fresh figs we have ever tasted.  All this before we even had our various entrees; tuna tartare, couscous e pesce, tuna with a pistachio cream, ravioli with white fish.  An amazing lunch.

Weaving along the water’s edge on our way out of town we stopped at some stone pools that have windmills that look like miniature ones from Holland, where water is pumped in and out to evaporate and grey sea salt is harvested.   Vineyards of Grillo, Inzolia, and Catarratto grow low to the ground in rocky vineyards at zero feet above sea level.   

 

The nearby island of Mozia, where the Whitaker estate grows vines among the ruins of a Phoenician outpost, stood across the waters from us blown by the constant refreshing breeze.   We left the coast and drove through rolling hills, with farms and abandoned stone buildings dotting the landscape on our way towards the heart of the island.

About an hour past Palermo the hills lose some of their angularity, turning rounder and undulating.  Still steep, yet covered with wheat, hay and livestock, this is the breadbasket of Sicilia, and for a long time for all of Italy.  We were now up about 600 meters, and storm clouds clung to the sharper peaks, brooding and black against the brilliant blue sky.  A place where the weather can change suddenly, and snow can come in winter to this hot island.

Almost 200 years ago, two of the Tasca brothers left the confines of the city of Palermo and moved to Regaleali in the heart of the island.  The farm of “Rehal Ali”, was nearly twice the size back then, and would have been a long and dusty
journey over dirt roads and hills.  The roads are still just as twisted and beaten, the pavement even more warped and cracked by last years’ storm that washed out road beds and even took all the fish from one pond on a ride down the hill.  Our journey was faster but perhaps as equally bumpy as it might have been back in the day.

Regaleali is now 550 hectares, with vineyards, wheat fields, vegetable gardens, a deer preserve, woods to watch (or if you are Conte Lucio, hunt) birds, and five man-made lakes.  The estate is like a giant bowl of land, with the original house standing at the top like the crest on their dinner ware.  The original house, a stone building with the deep “Tasca” blue doors and windows, now houses guest rooms and a dining area, offices, and the attached newer winery and old cellars.  Once we settled into our rooms, including one of us in the “princess” suite, we gathered in the courtyard to get to know Regaleali.

A bottle of Almerita Brut welcomed us, with some amazing chickpea fritter chips, the first of a parade of amazing fried Sicilian bites.  Continuing with crostini with tapenade or pesto, fried beans fresh from the garden, we then headed inside for our first non-fish meal of the trip.  Living so far from the coast, and as a family of means would have had their own cooks who were naturally trained in the finest French methods, the food was heartier and depended on butter in a place where olive oil is typically the fat of choice. 

 A simple soup of maccheroni and fava to start, then a moist and filling pork loin with potatoes rich with butter seemed perfect as the night temperature dropped quickly.  The Nozze d’Oro, “golden anniversary”, a blend of Inzolia and a clone of Sauvignon called “Sauvignon Tasca” that was likely brought back from the battlefields of Austria following World War One, was light and refreshing to start.  The story is that the Conte made the wine for his anniversary, though some say he made it because he needed to make up for something he did, as most husbands can probably understand.  With the entrée we had the top wine, the Rosso del Conte, mostly Nero d’Avola and “other local grapes”, which stood up nicely to the rich pork and potatoes.

To say we had the classic Sicilian Cannoli for dessert would be a great disservice to the chef from the local village who made it for us.  This was the finest cannoli that had ever graced our lips.  Ethereal and delicate, with perfect sweetness, almost unfair in how it good it was.  We ate every single crumb.

Naturally, all this happiness of food led us to head over to the living room that was easily the size of two regular houses, where we discovered the magic that is the grappas of the estate, the powerful Rosso del Conte and the delicate Chardonnay, along with the dry Marsala we brought with us.  Thankfully the weather report for the next day was predicted to be mild, so our planned morning walk was pushed back until ten instead of the early morning on our agenda.  Late nights and early mornings are not good friends when grappa enters the equation.

Breakfast was a happy collection of tarts and cakes, prosciutto and ham, eggs and cereals, light and zingy fresh homemade yogurt, and a nice slab of honeycomb direct from the estate beehives to scrape out and spread on crusty bread.  A little café or espresso and we were recovered and energized from the night before, ready for our morning stroll. 

Often when you visit a winery you might take a short walk in the vineyards and end up at a shaded spot to taste wines.  This was not that kind of walk.  It was a three hour walk around the entire estate, first through the forest adjacent to the house, near the deer enclosure, through the various soils and vineyards, up the hills and down them again.  We walked past the Nero d’Avola, Cabernet, Inzolia, Catarratto, Grillo, Chardonnay, and other vines.  

 The oldest part of the vineyard

 had vines that were trained in the traditional head pruned style.  The Nero d’Avola, we were told, behaves like a woman’s hair that is thick and straight, hanging down from the vine.  Whereas the Perricone behaves like a woman with wild curly hair, shooting out in all directions, defying gravity.

 

Our guide, Bogata, who was originally from Hungary and has happily found a home in Sicilia, answered all of our questions, no matter how minute or odd they were.  A hillside covered with plants that had died and dried out was explained that unused plots are planted to Fava, which may or may not even be harvested, so the plants can fix nitrogen to the soil for future crops. Regaleali is a place of sustainability, not just for the vineyards or farm, but for all of the people who live and work there.  They live with and from the land, not wasting its resources and treating it and each other in a way that ensures longevity for all.  They do not put a strain on the environment, the water for the nearby town is not diverted for the farm, and they are part of their place. 

On the far eastern slope of the estate is the old barns, which is now a world renowned cooking school founded by Marchesa Anna Tasca Lanza, Conte Lucio’s sister, and now run by her daughter, Fabrizia Tasca Lanza. At one end is the “gas station”, tanks of white, red and rosato wine with pumps for customers to fill containers and pay by the liter.  If only we had such a place near our homes!  The low stone buildings, with the Tasca blue doors and windows, overlook amazing gardens complete with a shaded area with cushioned lounges that we somehow managed to escape before they ensnared us for a nap, but only just barely, and we made our way up the hill and down the road to the main house.  

The chapel has the estate’s founding date above the door, 1830, with its circle of bells on the wall to call you to a prayer.  The stone trough nearby was buzzing with the indigenous Avi Neri, black bees that look like flies until you get a good look at them.  We entered the courtyard at the end of our journey and were welcomed by the intensely jovial Corrado, with a welcome glass of the estate Rosato.  Nothing better to end a hike, even on a blissfully mild and breezy day, than a cold glass of crisp pink wine and few tasty bites of expertly fried treats.  

 
We had to make it through another fine lunch, with a spaghetti with sweet Pomodoro sauce and some eggplant and cheese atop it, along with some roasted chicken and potatoes.  As our day was expertly planned and we wouldn’t be needed back until our tour of the winery later in the day, we all took the time for a well-earned shower and nap.

The modern part of the winery is built onto the back of the old buildings.  Some of the larger tanks stand outside, under the watchful eye of a metal Madonna that was meticulously placed under the guidance of the Conte to bless everyone at Regaleali.  If you’ve ever visited a winery, you’ve seen tanks and presses and barrels before, but each winery has its own flavor and charm.  Corrado called the control panel that sits up high above the winery floor his “DJ booth”, where he directs the activity below at the direction of the head winemaker.  What makes it all the more perfect is that Corrado used to be a DJ, after he went to law school, and before his life now where he has his own farm while working at Regaleali and another estate of the family.  His unlimited energy does have its uses.  

We finished our tour with a tasting of the wines of the estate that included the just released 2010 “Riserva del Conte”.  An homage to the original Rosso del Conte from 1970, this wine was made from Nero d’Avola and Perricone, but instead of oak it was aged in barrels made from Chestnut from Mt. Etna that were coopered in Marsala.  A beautiful and rare wine, and going forward the Rosso del Conte will follow the same recipe for grapes.

Naturally it was time to eat, again, and we headed back to the house to make sure we got some of the lovely fried zucchini blossoms with ricotta and prosciutto, small bites of potato and béchamel dipped in batter and fried until the middle is basically a liquid, and more freshly fried beans.  Dinner was rich and tender lamb with more beautiful buttery potatoes.  This time the cannoli was baked, a different chef this night, which we devoured.

It was hard to leave Regaleali the next morning.  The sun was brilliant, lighting up the vineyards and hills beyond.  The Blue of the doors and windows popped out against the sand colored stone walls, the flowers climbing the walls added more contrasts of green and purple.  It is truly one of the most beautiful places in the world.  We made sure to get bottles of estate olive oil, various honeys from the Avi Neri, pestos, Pomodoro sauces and pastas.  We can’t take Regaleali home with us, but a taste of the foods will have to suffice.  Then we began the long drive to the slopes of Mt. Etna.

Etna sits in the far eastern part of the island, right at the edge of the land, and rises nearly 11,000 feet up.  In Greek mythology, the forge of Hephaestus sit under the mountain, which would explain why it is considered one of the most active volcanos in the world, with eruptions are common that vary from blasts of ash and smoke to full on lava flows.  It is these flows, each a different mix of elements spewed out that give the vineyards of Etna their diversity and character.  The volcano is vast and wide, seeming to go off in all directions for as far as you can see.  The peak is narrow and often hidden by the clouds that cling to it.  It is rugged landscape, with a sense of movement in the topography that is evident in the many ancient and more modern flows and fields of lava stone.  The newest flows only have Ginestre trees and a few other plants growing in them, the first plants that can grab some life in the new soils, their yellow blossoms defining the river of stones amongst the green forests and vineyards.

Domenico takes care of the vineyards for Tascante, the Etna winery that Tasca owns.  And he walked us through the terraced vineyards that are surrounded by walls of tufo, the soils black and dusty.  Here Nerello Mascalese, Nerello Cappuccio, Carricante, Chardonnay and other vines grow in the high elevation (400-800 meters ASL) vineyards.  Some vineyards exceed the current allowed elevation for the DOC, though there are hopes that changes will come to the rules.  We wander through the old vineyards, and see empty spaces that once held vineyards that will soon come back to life.  So much of Etna was abandoned following the Second World War, but new life, and people, are coming back.

Lunch is on the patio at a small osteria across the courtyard from where Domenico lives, where the father and son who run it bring us a seemingly never ending parade of antipasti.  The best ricotta di buffalo possibly on the planet, rich and buttery olives, something that translated as “boiled donkey meat” which was surprisingly delicious,  grilled Portobello, zucchini tartare, slightly heated ricotta with almonds and strawberry preserves, followed by a light and subtly mushroom soup and some fresh pasta with Pomodoro.  Dessert was, by request, the most amazingly fresh and juicy cherries, plums and peaches and that was it.  Sometimes you have to take a break and keep it simple.

 

Our hotel stood facing the Mountain, a large estate house that, given the crew on this trip, had fittingly also been a hospital for mental patients.  Just inside the entry was an extremely large fertility statue of a very pregnant woman.  Looking at her made us feel that maybe we hadn’t gained that much weight.  The pool outside was a refreshing break, even on a cloudy afternoon, but it was made all the more perfect by the large and extremely refreshing Aperol Spritzes that we procured from the bar.

Dinner was at Cave Ox, a pizzeria with an amazing wine cellar.  Domenico and his girlfriend, as well as our reluctant driver, joined us for a half dozen different kinds of pizza, a margherita followed by a collection of mostly bianca pizzas, all from the beautiful wood fired “Il Forno” oven, along with a handful of great wines from neighboring vineyards.  We ordered the tiramisu even though we probably didn’t need it, but still ate it all.

Since Etna is still a pretty small community and wine region, the next day Domenico was able to ask the winemaker at Passopisciaro if we could get a small tour and tasting.  He was more than gracious as he showed us around the small estate, with Chardonnay at the highest elevation and Petite Verdot and Cesanese d’Affile, a grape from Lazio, planted right outside the cellar door.  Other vineyard sites have Nerello Mascalese, with the individual “Contrado” wines bottled separately, and combined into their Passarosso blend.  A Contrado is an old government defined area, but now is used to designate vineyard areas that are different in their soil type, elevation and exposure. The wines of Passopisciaro are elegant and amazing, a treat for us to taste and visit.

We made our way down from Etna as we were staying in Catania that evening, but we detoured to the small cliffside town of Taormina for lunch.  It is a touristy collection of twisty streets, restaurants, shops selling all kinds of things you probably don’t need, and beautiful views of the sea and the beaches far down below.  We parked at a garage and took the shuttle bus into town, and we found our way to a small restaurant called Osteria da Nino.  We were seated in the new “cellar” room that used to be the actual wine cellar that the owner’s father had used years ago to make wine.  It faces east so that it only sees the morning sun, and the small room was now lined with shelves that held some of the finest wines from Etna, as well as a few choices from throughout Italy.

Our meal was a beautiful slice of Sicily, presented as art on the plate.  Caponata, eggplant parmesan, and bruschetta with ricotta, just barely cooked langoustine, Gambero ceviche, and tuna tartare, ravioli with Gambero and risotto with truffles and Gambero, and finally a nicely grilled medium rare piece of tuna with sweet onions and pine nuts. 

 The dessert was a cake of almonds and orange, made in the “style of Nonna”.  The knife used to cut it was rubbed each time with a cut orange, to further heighten the flavors.  Throughout the meal our Sommelier, who had impeccable knowledge and a voice made for radio, poured selections from both the Regaleali and Tascante Estates, and brought out the almond liqueur to pair perfectly with our dessert.

 Our meal lasted long enough that we had no time to sightsee in Taormina, so we headed back down into the bustling city of Catania for the night.  Knuckles were very white as we made it through the evening rush of cars, people, vespas and chaos.  Thankfully our hotel had a lovely rooftop bar where we gathered to wash away the heat and nerves with a couple of bottles of our bubbly of the trip.  We walked the city streets for a while in the hot and humid evening, ignoring the many girls handing out flyers for the nearby Pizzerias and tourist restaurants, and ended up at the amusingly named, but highly recommended by Domenico’s girlfriend, place called “Razmataz”. 

Crowded around a small table in the entry way by the bar, we enjoyed simple and delicious foods; meatballs, fresh salads, caprese, olives, grilled vegetables and the like with a few drinks.  It was perfect for a warm evening at the end of a long food filled trip.  Since Gelato was invented in Catania, with ice carried down from Etna in ancient times, we had to top it all off with gelato from C&G Cioccolato e Gelato.  Personal preferences ran from rich chocolate to tart Limone, the rich ice cream melting down our hands as we wandered back to the hotel. 

Our next to last morning we kept breakfast simple, espresso at the least, and took in some sights of Catania including a roman era amphitheater right off the main piazza, and the sprawling market that filled a number of streets, overflowing with every kinds of fish, cheese, meat and a cornucopia of produce, especially the best eggplant, tomato and peppers you might ever see.  That and stalls selling everything from DVDs to sunglasses to underwear, it was a virtual outdoor superstore, with fish and that lovely fishy on a sunny day smell.  An arancino the size of a softball was enough for lunch, and the group divided as our departures home were a scattered times.

A two hour drive got some of us back to Palermo, near the old part of town, where we happily sat outside in a piazza and nursed cold “Gin Tonics”, stopped in at a small enoteca for a bottle of a different bubbly, and had dinner at a hip bar/restaurant with tasty seafood and pastas, and great young Somm to bring us some fun whites on a hot night.  We left the bar late, working our way through a throbbing outdoor club with pulsing loud music, kebabs grilling on open fires, a foosball table set off to the side, and hundreds of young Sicilians that didn’t have to get up in the morning to catch a plane just starting to show up for the late night party. 

We stayed up way too late, and getting the to the airport in a near land speed record time worked better than an espresso, but our visit to the beautiful island of Sicilia was over.  Time to spend in airplanes and airports, and to readjust to our time zones that seem a thousand years ahead of Sicily.  It is a magical place that we so very briefly experienced, and can’t wait until we return.