Sicilian Diary

My favourite Madonna of all the multitude of Virgin Marys venerated by the Sicilians, is the Black Madonna of Tindari.  Her feast day takes place on 8 September, but the festivities go on all weekend: these include the annual pilgrimage to her Basilica at the top of Mount Tindari, fireworks and local processions. Part of the draw is the place of her shrine: Tindari, off the beaten tourist track, sits high on a rocky promontory with spectacular views. Founded by the Greeks in 396BC (by Dionysius the Elder, a nasty despot from Syracuse), the ruins of the city include an amphitheatre, the gates to the city, stone arches and tombs.  You can enjoy a picnic there without a Japanese tourist snapping a photo of you while you munch your sandwich (likely to happen in nearby Taormina). But the interesting thing about the Madonna of Tindari are the stories surrounding her origins. Legend has it that the cedarwood statue was hidden on a cargo ship returning from the ...

I talian premier Matteo Renzi speaks eloquently on the issue of the  Migrant crisis  to the Guardian UK.  Milazzo has a shelter for boys, mostly aged 18-20. I know the people who run it and several of the boys have worked for us at the restaurant under social projects. I know they are well-provided for at the shelter, with "tutors" or psychologists, and money to buy food etc. I wanted to speak to them about their experience but was afraid they would get upset. However, yesterday Emilia from Oxfam GB came by to interview some of them. Her questions were well-phrased and not too personal so the boys responded briefly without getting upset. I sat with two boys from Mali when they spoke in case they needed translation from French. I was struck by how much they spoke about their family back home and how they feel a loss of identity in coming here. "No one knows me here, no one knows my family," said Issa. With a smile he nodded at me and mio marito and said, ...

Ahhhhh...You know summer is here when you catch the sweet scent of fried aubergines/eggplant on the air. These stuffed baby aubergines are one of my favourites of Sicilian cuisine. Make sure you get the chance to try these tasty morsels once in your life! Like most Sicilian dishes, there are regional variations and family versions added to that. My mother-in-law makes the best ever :) These ones are stuffed with breadcrumbs (mollica), capers, pecorino cheese and a little fresh tomato sauce (passato) to bind the mixture together. The wonderful cipolla di Tropea (Tropea onions), marinated in white wine, vinegar and sugar and salt are then layered over them.

Temperatures are rising, and with it, tempers in the kitchen. So much so that the first cook almost assaulted the second cook last week. Almost, because in the chef's attempt to hit or headlock him, the second cook slipped out of his grip. Witnesses say the first cook was provoked by the second cook's gibes. Mio marito, so sorry  to have to deal with such issues, did the necessary legal formalities. So now we have a situation where the Second is afraid to work with the First Cook. I can understand: First Cook is a big guy. But Second Cook has now closed himself in a little world of his own and won't speak to anyone. Which makes collaboration in the kitchen slightly tricky. Did I mention my husband's other job is with Oxfam Sicily? He's working on projects related to the hugely pressing issue of immigration into Sicily. From saving immigrants' lives to saving cooks in our kitchen. Imagine what keeps him up at night...

At the café. Sunday morning and I’m just about to pay for my cappuccino when the owner at the till looks over my shoulder, says, “Are you paying for a coffee, doctor?” And let his mate pay first. I smile graciously (much more effective than fuming) and then pay for the two cappuccini and cake we'd ordered for a birthday lunch. The owner realised his error and gave me 50cents off. Half the fun in cafés where there are traditional, uniformed barmen is listening to the lively greetings in the morning. Buongiorno avvocato; buona giornata, professoressa; caffè dottore? Good morning, Lawyer, have a good day, Teacher, would you like a coffee, Doctor? (NB any flimsy old degree entitles you to be called doctor in Italy). However. We still don’t like queue jumping. Another friend who runs an English School said she ordered two hot takeaway capuccini at her local café in a five minute coffee break. The barman made the coffees and then let them stand before adding the froth while h...

Last weekend we parted company with our barman, who has been with us since our rocky beginning six years ago. Through the winter he worked Fridays and Saturdays, but recently the bar had been quiet on Friday nights so mio marito had him come in on Saturdays only. He was a high maintenance kind of guy so last week he handed in his notice saying once a week was just not worth it. He had tears in his eyes, he said, which we couldn’t verify because this was a phonecall. He ended by saying he would call in during the week to return the restaurant keys. My husband turned to me and said: “Rubbish. He has a new job and I know exactly where.” Fact is, the barman duly brought the keys back – when no one else was there. We only spotted them after noticing his cocktail mixers were gone. Now, aside from the fact that from our point of view he took the hint, it’s a shame our erstwhile resident diva didn’t have the balls to bid farewell in person. Especially since his new employment ...

This sign - which I read as a woman blithely skipped the queue and took my 16.20 appointment, much to my dismay as I was on the alert for such common trickery - talks about some basic Waiting Room rules, such as keeping the communicating door closed for patients' privacy (queue-jumping is not mentioned). The NB at the bottom warns that "Those patients who double park their cars will not be given priority".