Sicilian Diary

We are providing the catering for a volcanology conference this week in the castello. They want breakfast and lunch provided on site everyday, with the occasional aperitivo and evening meal at ours. They checked out a few other local restaurants as regards menus and rates and chose ours. That's nice. We also heard from the Mayor's assessore who dined at ours during the week that the conference organisers had met with the mayor and some of his council to discuss the running of the conference and the catering. Other council members had suggested more established big name restaurants in town, insinuating that we might not be capable. But the assessore told them we would do a great job. So nice to have been chosen over the big names - for that is all they are: restaurants with flamboyant owners who swagger about spouting on about how fantastic they and their dishes are, heaving their convincing pot bellies from one table to the next with a handsome glass of red wine in hand (this...

The police came by on Saturday night at 2am. The place was packed. It had been a great night, no hassle from the Barcelona mafioso gang who have been trying to get free drinks for the last couple of weekends, just nice people enjoying the DJ music. Apparently, someone had called to complain about the noise disturbance. This is very strange because you cannot actually hear the music outside Pachamama. Our DJ was playing inside, and the speakers were inside. 'Are you sure the complaint was not about the bar up the road?' asked mio marito, signalling the bar 20 metres up the street - DJ and huge speakers outside on a podium, disco and drunken dancers in full swing on the cobblestones with the Moorish castle as enchanting backdrop to the overplayed House tunes. The policeman was sure the call was for Pachamama. He summonsed mio marito to come down to the police station the following day to see whether a fine would have to be paid. There would be two potential fines amounting to €2...

My accent has been Sicilianised. All traces of the Tuscan are gone. I heard it when a fake Milanese (the Sicilians who go to Milan for work and acquire the Milan accent because it makes them feel superior) asked for a Curuuna. A what? Do you mean a Corona? But what I heard myself say sounded like Cohrawna, with the typical broad Sicilian vowels. Probably akin to a Castlederg accent if you are from Tyrone. Oh dear. But having a more local accent helps when dealing with the locals. They understand me better. It makes me less foreign to them, less daunting. I can rattle off the house antipasto without batting an eyelid (la parmigiana, la caponatina, involtini di zucchini, melanzani ripieni, cozze al limone …), tell you what meat you can have in your panino : bresaola, carpaccio di manzo, prosciutto crudo o cotto. These words are a struggle for me since I don’t eat meat and so don’t actually know what the ham in question is like. But I sound convincing. Likewise I am most convincing on the...

We're putting up a huge billboard advertisement with this picture of our paella at the motorway exit for Milazzo for the next two weeks. Let's hope it lures some tourists up from the port.

Heard a couple speaking in French last night on the terrace so went over to see if I could help, but it turned out they were from here but lived in Switzerland and spoke in French for the benefit of their two young children. (they picked up one of our cards in a bar at the port -yeah! our publicity efforts work!) They said there was no way they could come back and live here. ‘In Switzerland things work,’ said the man. ‘When you ask for something, you get it straight away.’ Not like here, of course. We have the wonderful Norman/Spanish/Arabic castle on our doorstep here in the borgo antico, but since its opening (after two years of closure for reconstruction work), nothing has been made of its fabulous atmospheric spaces. Mio marito proposed, at a recent meeting with a town council member, that concerts and plays be put on in its amphitheatre space. The meeting was about what ‘rules’ would apply this summer for the running of locali in the borgo; opening hours, hours when music could b...

Here are some photos of Milazzo's castle with its symbol grafted on to one of the outer walls; the volcanic island of Stromboli; and our gamberi in tempura and our famous paella!

Today is the first day of August and I wonder will there suddenly be a huge surge in clients like there was last year. I have already noted a few returned faces. W have dj music on Thursdays, Fridays and Sundays throughout August so that will no doubt bring in the punters, and damage my eardrums. Last night the cameriere called me discreetly from the till. He had two bottles of wine in his hand so I thought he wanted to consult on which to bring to table. But no. His beady eye had spotted a sneaky cockroach on a table at the back of the room. Luckily no one was sitting nearby, and the dirty thing was brown in colour rather than the brighter pink-red they can sometimes be. SO it was camouflaged. We just had to get rid of it without anyone noticing. He gave me the two bottles of wine and went to grab it with a napkin. Ugh. It slipped off the table and scuttled towards the steps to the kitchen. But he got it just in time. Good for him. I took lots of orders for paella last night. Our ads ...

Last night, Friday night, again our aiuto cuoco is off – this time at a theatre performance where he plays a crucial part in the play apparently. We are going to have a serious talk to him about responsibility tonight. Then our waiter asked us for a loan of €2500 at the end of the night. What? What do these people think we are made of? Do they think that having 4 or 5 tables a night with moderately priced food and then selling cocktails for a few hours puts us in a position to offer bank facilities? Don’t they realise that we have big overheads? That we constantly pay, then owe then pay then owe our suppliers? He wanted the money to buy a scooter! These Sicilians ragazzi have not learnt basic work and responsibility ethics (I blame the indulging parents). Mio marito explained that the thing to do was save his wages and in October he would be able to buy a scooter. But he wants to go to Ibiza in October he says, on holiday. Ah yes, but at the age of 20 you can’t have it all, my friend. ...

Cauldron took down the sexist advertisement. Result! The Donne Libere organised a petition-signing event for the ad to be removed, and one of the members held an interview with the director of the company on national radio, where he completely embarrassed himself. He offered a kind of written ‘apology’ where he said you can see worse images than these on Italian TV every day and on the promenade at the seafront in Milazzo! As if sharing the blame released him from responsibility … He also said that if the ad were placed in bigger, more cosmopolitan cities such as Torino, Milan or Rome, no one would bat an eyelid as the residents would understand the irony … yes, he entirely missed the point and didn’t learn much from his mistake. The billboard now shows a family picture of mother and young daughter flashing white teeth at the camera in the understanding that the husband/father is off installing the solar panels … yes, progress is limited here.

We were supposed to go to Stromboli for a 2-day break before the high season kicks in and we'll have no more days off until September. But the weather got quite stormy and the sea was going to be rough for the crossing so at the last minute we cancelled, and opted for Marzamemi and the wild white beaches of Southern Sicily (near Syracusa). There's an international film festival on there in this quaint fishing village, with screens up in the main piazza and side streets. There is now a motorway the whole way there basically, so we were there in 2.5 hours, fantastic. After Catania the terrain changes, becoming lower and smoother, more open fields cultivated for vineyards, olive groves, hay, wheat etc and then around Marzamemi there are km and km of stretches of greenhouses – all semicircular, low-lying for the melons and higher arches for the Pachino tomatoes. I was most disappointed to discover that the Pachino,or cherry tomatoes are not indigenous to Pachino, as it would seem; ...

19 July 2010 The usual back-and-forth going on between the potential new cook and ourselves regarding the contract and pay. In this country it seems the power lies with the employee. Or perhaps it is just because they know we have no one else lined up. How they boast about their talents is quite something. Perhaps we are all just too humble in Ireland. This cook, or should I say ‘chef’, started off with an unattainable figure for his pay (again – it was he who named the sum, not us …), knowing full well that this would oblige us to counteroffer a high figure and that somewhere in between would probably be agreed. We watched him at work this week, but it was a fairly quiet one for the kitchen. While compliments were received for the food, we never got to see him deal with 3 or 4 orders arriving at once, or a full restaurant. Just as well for his first week, as he needs time to note how we do things etc, but it is hard for us in such limited time to discover just how competent he really ...

This obscenity is plastered on several billboards around Milazzo. It just clarifies, in case anyone was still in doubt, what Sicilian males think of women. Here, we have a woman, naked apart from her red shoes, advertising solar panels. This commercial says "Montami a costa zero." A play on words. Montami means 'set me up' ie in the sense of having your solar panels installed - but it also means 'Ride me' and the Sicilian males have photographed the girl in just the position in which they would like to do so. Needless to say my Spanish friend and other members of the Donne Libere have already been on to the company to get rid of this degrading and volgar and chauvinistic advertisement. The director simply doesn't undersand what the problem is.... There is no hope. 2010 in Sicily.

We had the new cook on trial last night. He just came for a few hours. He seemed capable of only speaking to mio marito at first, until I started asking him direct question about some dishes he was proposing for the summer menu. He is absolutely huge, built like a sumo wrestler, he’ll not be able to do much moving around in our kitchen! He did speak more convincingly than anyone I have seen in the last year who professed to be a cook. Indeed, this man calls himself a chef. His CV does cite several well-recognised hotels and restaurants, but no formal training. Our second cook has worked with him before and says he is a proper chef; this of course means that he will be pushing for high rates of pay. He is also from Naples. My mother-in-law is still fuming about the fact that the German-Sicilian cook never appeared. We last heard from him when mio marito was away on a boat trip a few weeks ago and he got me on the landline. I told him to stay in touch and let us know if there were any ch...

The police came by on Saturday night saying we had to close at 2am. Luckily, a friend from another bar had warned us about this and we had a sign up saying Last Orders at 2am! Usually at 2am it is our busiest time. The bar was packed on Saturday at that time. We said we thought we just had to stop serving drinks, and he said, I’m sorry but the new rule is that the locale must close at 2am. I would be delighted to see us all get to bed a bit earlier except that it had a big impact on our takings for Saturday night. And we need Friday and Saturday night takings to survive as a business! The policeman had two guys form the army with him as backup, and we recognised them as regulars – they looked really sheepish and embarrassed. Apparently there is a new chief of police and he wants to make his presence felt. It will probably die down in a few weeks – it better do for August, which we all depend on for good takings for the rest of the year … At least the policeman was decent and not throwi...

My sisters arrived Saturday night in the most stressful circumstances. I was so annoyed that we had no one to pick them up. We would both be working Saturday night so we had to find out about taxi services, since the last bus was at 8.10pm from the airport, and they would not make the last train from Catania to Messina. The agencies all quoted €140. Megabucks. The bus costs €12! I phoned the agency Garage delle Isole to see if their minibus might be picking up others on Saturday night and the receptionist said no, but she called on Saturday morning propsing €100. In fact it was SHE who called to suggest a taxi for €100. So the girls accepted. But the girls were delayed getting their baggage, of course we are talking about Catania airport. SO they said the driver was calling them and seemed a bit agitated about the delay. Then half way into the journey I got urgent calls from my sisters. They said the agency had called, three times in Italian and then once in English, a lady telling the...

I left the locale after midnight having been there since 6.30pm for the book launch. Things were quiet enough. But I found our house to be the cross-section for about 4 different bands playing live outdoors, each of them belting out equally atrocious music. The band playing nearest was attempting terrible renditions of and 70s and 80s Italian rock music. I hardly recognised Paolo Conte’s lovely ‘Via Via con me’. The second nearest was a screechy woman trying to perform international rock music – I heard various U2 songs being murdered. The background din was so formidable I couldn’t hear the news on TV, even with the windows shut. Absolute nightmare when you know at 12.15am that this awful din is going to go on until at least 2am. However, I was aware that everything did come to an abrupt halt at around 2am due to a police raid on the nearest and loudest locale; they weren’t there to stop the music apparently, but rather were looking for a Mafioso, stopping punters and asking for docum...

Last night Pachamama hosted a book launch: ‘Lesbianism in Nazi-Fascist Europe’. Only our locale could have hosted such an event. The organiser, my Spanish friend, was highly excited when she came, with her projector and images and requests for fun music to lighten the atmosphere. Arci-Gay arrived from Messina laden with posters on safe gay sex and anti-gay and anti-discrimination slogans which he then plastered all over the front of the locale. It reminded me of the early 90s in Ireland, and the 80s in England. but being gay is still a taboo topic in Sicily. But apart from Arci-Gay and the Rita Atria Women’s Anti-Mafia group and a few of the Donne Libere there weren’t too many people. The usual. We had just enough chairs so it was perfect in the privé (sideroom). I thought all was going well – young Claudia introduced the subject matter and then the two co-authors talked about the difficulty of researching a topic about which there is so much secrecy and censorship. Survivors, they sa...

Our aperitivo on Sundays is going well, each week there are more people. Although now that the heat has arrived, we reckon people will tend to stay until late at the beach and either come late for the aperitivo or not bother at all. So we’ll have to see how it goes in July. I say we should play it by ear. Have a minimum of food prepared and then if necessary prepare more. Although that could prove difficult if we have to prolong the aperitivo until later as it could clash with customers who wish to have a meal – too much activity for the kitchen. We’ll see. The locals love it, because our food is so good. When I think back to the aperitivos we used to have in Tuscany, ours is definitely more abundant and better quality of food, all freshly prepared. The whole idea of the aperitivo is that you don’t make money on the food, but rather on the drinks consumed, as people will want to have a second drink to accompany their second round of the dishes. That is how we operated in Tuscany anywa...

Last night was very busy after the mere three tables on Tuesday night. We watched the Spain Portugal World Cup match on Live streaming. But last night I had told mio marito to rest and I’d call if we needed him. But first the Fortunato Wine family arrived with a party of 9 and sat outside. Then a table of 6 came and sat outside, six women, who then moved because the cats were prowling around – the ginger has given birth to 6 kittens. The tabby cat and another silvery one chase each other on the rails of the gazebo overhead, while the kittens scamper between flowerpots. Our clientele is divided between those who love them and those who don't want them nearby while eating. I would be in the second camp but it is so hard to get rid of them. We have put plastic bottles fo water everywhere - apprently tis serves to keep cats at bay - but today we found a large cat poo right next to one of the bottles on the windowsill - clear marking of territory. Mafioso cats. Then another table of 5 a...

Well, our joy in finding a competent cook is, of course, of course, now tainted with a little doubt as to his intentions. You can never take anyone at face value in this place. He’s only been here two weeks, that is, he has only been working for us for ten days, but already there are a few things that don’t quite figure. Or that hint at certain things. Especially one particular instance: on Sunday night he asked my husband could we lend him some money. Some money? Says my husband, thinking he perhaps wants an advance on his first salary to help with settling back into Sicily. But we are talking along the lines of €10 000. EH?????!!!!! As bold as brass, he explains he’s in a tricky situation because his money is all tied up in Germany, but his sister needs some money badly at the minute and can we help out. I am blown away. Amazed. Has he not seen that the restaurant is practically empty on weekdays? Or does he actually think that the fact that the place is packed on Fridays and Satur...

Escaped for a couple of days to the magical islands of Stromboli, my favourite of the Aeolians. May is the perfect time to go as it is not too hot. As soon as you get off the hydrofoil you start to feel the Stromboli effect. No cars, just motorini, api (the three wheel moto-truck) and bicycles. The sounds of birds flitting among olive groves and lemon trees, and the low boom of the volcano when it erupts. Stromboli is a live volcano and you can walk to an observatory to watch it and have pizza by candlelight – which we did a couple of years ago when the volcano was particularly active, erupting every ten minutes or so, sending sparks of lava high into the air and molten rock tumbling down its dark silhouette. There are also guided tours which start in daylight and finish in darkness at the top with a picnic while you look down from a height into the crater before sliding and jumping down through the black sandy slopes. This time we were staying in a secret garden – hidden from the outs...

Election fever dominates the sound waves here since voting takes place finally on Sunday. Just like in South America, cars go around all day blasting their candidate’s names and jingles from huge speakers. 660 people have candidated themselves for the council – il consiglio. They hope to get some financial gain out of it apparently, network in high places; but I still haven’t worked out what the requirements and parameters for candidacy are. Even the young girl in my favourite clothes shop asked me for a vote; so many of her friends were candidates too that she couldn’t count on friends’ and family’s votes alone. So what will you propose be done for women, I asked her. But she hadn’t a clue. She said much was needed for children here, more sports facilities, more playing fields and swimming pools. If anything is needed for children here, it is something of a more educational nature; cultural exchanges, international opportunities, better use of the grants available from the European Un...

Finally the cook has arrived from Germany. After weeks of anticipation, procrastination and speculation as to whether he would actually come at all, he showed up en famille with wife, son and sister, for dinner last Saturday night. We were a little taken aback at his relaxed attitude after keeping s waiting so long; perhaps we would have preferred to see an example of his eagerness to work at this stage! But he dodged in and out of the kitchen between courses, commenting on potential changes and offering advice on presentation and cooking methods as if he was already in charge! Crucial to his performance in the kitchen, he explained, was his outfit; he didn’t dress all in white, but rather in the shirt and black trousers he was wearing at the moment, since he felt more himself. His wife nodded, strongly backing him up. I noted that the tiny 8year old son was dressed identically; was he going to be his father’s accomplice in the cucina? In fact, on Wednesday, his first night at work, fa...

Who was it that came by on Sunday night asking for the Irish woman who wrote the blog about Pachamama? What a pity they didn’t come back! Mio father-in-law, who can perform well in English when required, was interviewed by some English speakers around 7pm. No doubt they were up visiting the castle and were hungry and then went back down to their hotel by the port and ate somewhere nearby and couldn’t face the trek back up to our place. They asked him was his wife Irish. How funny. Pity he didn’t find out where they were from. And how they got news of my blog! On Friday night I was heading home around 2.30am, going out through the terrazzo which was closed at this stage, all the chairs up on the tables. I was surprised to hear male voices: two of the men came walking towards me to go back into the restaurant – but the third guy was left doing his business with his back to me by the gate. Yes, there he was watering the beautiful flowering plants tended to carefully by my father-in-law. “...

Quiet weekday nights. The cook we are waiting for called on Wednesday night. ‘Sono Giorgio’ he says as if he were already part of the family. He babbles on for about 10 minutes, spouting the same stuff he has already discussed with mio marito. What is your kitchen based on, he wants to know. Ah, yes, just like mine, Sicilian pasta dishes, tuna, swordfish roulades, antipasti Siciliani … I tel him our paella is a big seller and he says he is not being into paella, because in his town in Germany the Chinese restaurants give you paella for €4 and who knows what would be in it. Hmmm. He assure me he will be with us next Saturday because he is just waiting for his son’s school to break up for holidays, sign his report card and hey presto he’ll be with his. ‘Sono dietro la porta’ he says – I’m just behind the door. Sure. I said well, I need to see you to believe it since we’ve been expecting you for the last month. How’s your car? Is it working? Did the spare part arrive? It is impossible to ...