Sicilian Diary

"Ognuno sta solo sul cuor della terra/ Trafitto da un raggio di sole: ed è subito sera." Salvatore Quasimodo

They call it "cambio stagione" here, that time when you pull out your warmer clothes from under the bed, or the bag at the bottom of the wardrobe, when you need to drag out the winter duvet and pack away the summer sheets until Spring. I dread this moment every year for this reason: dust. No matter how well I pack the clothes, no matter how many plastic bags, dust gets there. So I sneeze and sneeze and sneeze. I'm not alone in this - several friends have remarked on having the same problem. This provides some consolation but how, we wonder, could we prevent it. There is not even half this amount of dust in Ireland. It gets places I'd never even think of, like the inner grooves of radiators, collects in dust balls on the lampshade of a terracotta lamp. I've even had to store all my books in drawers - in a chest of drawers! - because their pages are so full of dust. I blame it on sirocco, that nasty south east wind. So forget that tourist brochure image of sunny Sic...

We had to close the windows last night: the air stank of gas. That's right, like a chemistry lab when all the Bunsen burners are on. Or when the burner is slow to ignite on your gas cooker and some gas leaks into the air. Except that the refinery is several kilometres away across the bay. And the whole town of Milazzo was inundated with the reek of gas. People outside went home. You simply could not be outside with the chemical toxins in the air. The oil refinery, in the local newspaper the following morning, blamed the smell on an oil tanker (there is always an excuse). But: oil tanker, or oil refinery – who cares where it comes from? The issue is this: there should be NO smell in the air, no toxins released into the atmosphere, because thousands of people live nearby. Which brings us to the crux: there should be NO oil refinery in an area where thousands of people live in close proximity. I’m particularly aware of it because I have Norwegian friends visiting at the minut...

Vendemmia time is here. The wine harvest. I remember the first time I saw vineyards in winter in Tuscany. “What are those rows of sticks?” I asked my Tuscan friend. From the road we were driving along they looked just like that; it was January and the leaves were gone, the grapes all plucked from the vines in late October. My students then brought me a bottle of vino novella from their family vineyard for Christmas. In Sicily, however, the wine harvest starts as early as August for white grapes such as Chardonnay and Insolia, and early September for Nero d’Avola and Syrah grapes. Last weekend there was a wine-tasting event at the castle with samples of local products such as cheeses and “sott’olio” foodstuffs like pesto and sundried tomatoes. I tried a delicious wine from the slopes of Etna and when I went back to sample some more I asked to see the bottle: “Nerello mascalese” I read, pleased by the sound, the way it rolls off the tongue. “It’s the name of the grape,” explained th...

As if that wasn’t enough, just when things were getting under control, a table of 14 rocks up: seven huge basketballers and their glamorous lady friends. Plus a 5 year old that our bambino started swatting with the menu. He was very good that night, playing by himself and not getting in the way. My husband got the table together into an L-shape, but then had to get back to the bar. The waitress was still flying out of the kitchen with courses and clearing tables, so it was up to me to take the order. This crowd were from Tuscany, France, Spain/South America and well-used to fine dining – I’d seen them chatting with my husband and thought they might have been fun. I detected the Tuscan accents and the Hispanic Italian. But they were only interested in ordering their food – after all it was going on for 11pm. Don’t these people book? Apparently they called half an hour before but it was so busy that by husband didn’t have time to set the table up for them. What an order. Anti-pasti and p...

I enjoyed chatting to the customers: out front, there were two girls from near Rome, one of whom ordered a Guinness. But I told her it was bottled and didn’t recommend it. It tuned out she had spent a week in Ireland in August. She loved it and wanted to relive the ‘taste’ of Ireland with the Guinness. The next couple had had an aperitivo – ours is abundant, consisting of three different plates of antipasti bites. They saw the dishes arrive at the girls’ table and asked me if it was also a restaurant. Also? They had thought we only did aperitivi, and were most impressed with the menu – and the chocolate brownie and almond semifreddo which they had for dessert. Upstairs it was chaotic. The covered terrace was full and the room upstairs was getting busy, with a couple sitting on the balcony. As I went to take their order, the waitress muttered that aperitivo could no longer be served as the restaurant was too busy and the three-plate aperitivo blocks the kitchen. The lady on the balcon...

Monday night was pleasant. A lovely group from Ligura were waiting outside in the rain, under the awning, lamenting the weather before we opened. I brought them up to the terrace and they were delighted to be able to sit outside, protected from the rain. One lady said, “We’ve read such wonderful things about this place on internet,” while another admired the décor. It is so nice to see the expectation and anticipation on their faces when customers arrive via tripadvisor. So different to the circumspection and suspicion I’d come to expect in the early days, when we were not yet “established”. Tuesday was mayhem. One of those nights when customers just keep coming and coming. Even before 8pm a couple arrived. I’d gone over early to do some Siae forms, which never got done in the end. The waitress was still setting up things, stacking glasses at the bar. In came “the man from Torino” as I call him, with a ladyfriend. He comes each year in summertime to visit relatives. Tall and tanne...

Back to Sicily after August in Ireland. Back to stuffed aubergines, sweet tomatoes and - torrential rain and mosquitoes galore. Also, Seamus Heaney, our Nobel Laureate, died on Friday, aged 74. On Saturday night we had a Swedish couple in Pachamama. I went to take their order, but instead of the order notebook, I pulled 'The Spirit Level' (my favourite Heaney volume) out of my little waiter bag (they are equally slim). I told the Swedes about Heaney winning the Nobel in 1995 and the man said he had seen it on the news on Friday in Stockholm. So I left them the book of poems to peruse until their food arrived. “You are neither here nor there,/ A hurry through which known and strange things pass/ As big soft buffetings come at the car sideways/ And catch the heart off guard and blow it open.” Seamus Heaney, 'Postscript', from The Spirit Level

I took one order last night just because my son and I were sitting outside when our first customers arrived - all the way from Hawaii. They were full of fun, from the minute I put on Paolo Conte - they loved the music so much they bought his "best of" on iTunes there and then. They ordered a great selection for food, accepting my recomendations of the tuna steak marinated in fresh orange juice and served with pistacchio crust, and the courgette and prawn risotto "al profuno di Sicilia" served with a sprinkling of grated lemon zest. I've just translated the menu into English - but of course, being American English-speakers, they didn't know what courgettes or aubergines were! I should have put eggplant and zucchini in brackets! The chat was great, and on my way home they had just tucked into their starters. "Hope you find your destiny," said Ken, who had been quietly observing all the banter. "We all have one," smiled Alice. What a ...

Wow! Special mention for me in a Trip advisor comment on Pachamama from last weekend. A lovely family from Torino - thank you Paolo, Roberta and Chiara. So nice to be appreciated :)

Lovely surprise to hear the Irish accent at Pachamama. Great to hear about their adventures in Sicily, share travel stories, and find a great review on Tripadvisor . Thank you :)

Tourist season is here again. So, among all the familiar faces of our regular and not so regular locals, it is nice to see foreigners at Pachamama again. Mio marito was away last week so I was at the restaurant for a couple of hours each evening. A little rusty from lack of practice, I had the waiter nearby to list the specials while I took the order for a group from Ukraine (serious, but appreciative) and a table of Germans, (smiley and appreciative). The highlight was a Spanish-Slovak couple who came back a second night. The Malaga-man has worked in restaurants for years and said, "A lo bueno se vuelve siempre". He complimented us on the excellent, varied menu and added - "There is something of you in the menu - the paella, the tapas, the tinto de verano (Spanish summer wine)". Nice to be appreciated :)

Excellent source on all things Sicilian: Best of Sicily, Magazine. Here is a link to an article on Italian Law , by Amanda Sorensen.

In my English class we were talking about the quality of life in Sicily and comparing it to life on a peaceful island off Japan, where life expectancy is long and the people are positive thinkers and never stressed. Some students ventured that Sicilians are often stressed and never happy. The fruit and vegetables and fish are great but some other things are not so great. I saw Marco Tullio Giordano's film "I Cento Passi" last night and needed something to make me smile. On my wanderings this morning this corner in the Borgo gave me hope!

Mount Etna is erupting ... Che spettacolo

Listen to Pearl of the Sea , a song for Sicily I wrote with some DJ producers here in Sicily. "Forgotten world, once the pearl of the mediterranean sea."

The mafia killings I mention in my post from last week 'Polifemo's Cave, Ulysses' haunt' did not make national news, except for brief coverage on the day of the first killing. It is remarkable that no TV news report, and no national daily such as La Repubblica or Il Corriere make mention of mafia-related deaths. This is what lead to the furore surrounding Roberto Saviano (of Gomorra fame)when he dared to state on national radio that the 'Ndrangheta' - the Calabrian mafia - were in Milan and indeed had requested the 'pizzo' (protection money) for many big construction projects. Milan, land of the Lega Nord, could surely not be infiltrated by the mafia, said the government. But it was proved wrong a year later when the scandal of the 'pizzo' in Milan broke out. The mafia go where there is money, and there was a lot of money involved in the big construction projects in Milan. At a local level, works began to construct a seaside promenage complete wi...

It's been a hard week. But amidst the daily trials and tribulations there were three undisputed moments of pleasure: on three separate occasions I was complimented on my beauty! Note: I am not so beautiful, I am just foreign. It was the unexpectedness of the compliment that made me extra-happy. The first was the female secretary in an office. She was registering my details and telling me I spoke good Italian and didn't have the typical English pronunciation (no, I'm Irish!)and then she looked me over and exclaimed, 'and to top it all off, you're bellissima!' Well, thank you very much. A few days later I was out for a walk - jogging bottoms, hoodie and cagoule because it looked like rain. A father and son were coming down the laneway and I think the son recognised me, he said hello. I was wondering whether to walk to the left past the son or to the right past the father. The father understood my predicament and said, 'Passa qui in mezzo, walk in between us! C...

Along Milazzo's western riviera there is a huge cave dug out of the promontory rock on which the castle stands. It's a beautiful spot. Legend has it that this was Polifemo's cave where the one-eyed cyclops tried to kill Ulysses and his crew when they stopped by. The cave was used for storage by the military during WW2 and in the 70s and 80s it was transformed into a discothèque and wedding functions were held there. The houses nearby are mostly holiday homes but some people live there all year round - including the accomplice of Barcellona mafia boss Filippo Barresi. Barresi was hiding out in a house along Via Polifema. Apparently he would go jogging along the seafront at night and no one recognised him with his hat and glasses on. The police tracked him down last week but he has denied being the boss of Cosa Nostra in Barcellona and says he is a simple 'vivaista' - working in a nursery or garden centre. Hmmm... I was reading this in a café in the local tabloid, G...