A lovingly restored four bedroom villa, with sweeping views of the sea, located near the heart of town, but on a calm, quiet street, was the perfect place for us to stay in Vasto. We scored the “Camille’ room which I suspect was the former grand bedroom of the villa. And it is a lovely,…Read More
We were late. We were hungry. We were in the ‘danger zone’ where we might be too late for lunch and this creates all sorts of stress. The ristorante was right below our hotel and it was a little quiet at lunchtime, and Don Magnifico may have been a little sleepy, but the chef sure can cook.…Read More
It was our first visit to Vasto, and I’m hoping it won’t be our last. Vasto is a charming and very ancient (founded in 1300 BC), small city precariously perched above the sea. Unfortunately the ground has a way of sliding into the sea in this area and in 1956 a significant chunk of the…Read More
A funny thing happened last fall, maybe even in the middle of the night. We woke up one morning and there was a “Casa dell’ Acqua” in the Montone parking lot over by the elementary school. And another one had sprung up in the nearby town of Umbertide. When you live in Umbria, you get used to certain things: horrifyingly bad roads, spotty internet, wonky electric, and now, no bells in town. The story is always the same: no money and a fatalistic shrug of the shoulders. So when something new and shiny shows up, everyone notices.Read More
Twenty years ago, Napoli Restaurant was a classic spaghetti joint on the corner of Spring and Sullivan streets in Soho, NYC. Actually, it was ‘our’ spaghetti joint back in the day when we were living cheap and going out didn’t require a mortgage to buy a bottle of wine.
Flash forward to the new enlightened us who live in Italy and have eaten many clams, preferably picking them up at the port from the fisherman, with a cold bottle of local wine in the shopping bag. Here’s the time warp part: eating linguine alle vongole at the Italian seaside is probably cheaper than those dinners at Napoli. See, life isn’t always cruel.
There’s a little island, off the coast, between Roma and Napoli and it is calling our name. A craggy crescent of volcanic rock, Circe once ruled Ponza, singing her siren song to the tragic Ulysses. Perhaps, we’re hearing the call?Read More
My mother always said, “If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.” And ordinarily if we go to a restaurant and we don’t like it, we don’t blog it.
But, this one got to me.
We had gone to Il Clandestino in Porto Novo a few years ago and had an astonishing, memorable, can’t wait to go back meal.
Lavinia In bocca al lupo!
In the mouth of the wolf!
I’ll murder it!
And that’s how you wish an Italian good luck. You tell them to look into the mouth of the wolf and they return with full bravado and machismo, “I’ll murder that wolf!”Read More
Tues morning, Aug 16
Town is a beehive of activity. Those little 3 wheeled Api’s are buzzing around town hauling sets and props, garbage, chairs and what ever else needs to be transported through our tiny medieval streets. Anything larger and Jeff is hauling it around in our trusty-rusty pick-up truck.
Clusters of people with clipboards gather, confer, and separate like so many drops of mercury, endless reorganizing according to the task at hand.