Italy

There are few more beautiful places in the world than the Amalfi Coast. Ancient villages vie with lemon groves for the prime real estate on the cliffs – with views that take you over the rooftops, through the fresh laundry flapping in the breeze, out to the blue sea. Truly gorgeous.

But when you try to walk in those quaint little streets, all you can see over the heads of the tour groups are stores selling t-shirts and limoncello. That’s the trade-off – at least in the big-name towns like Amalfi, Ravello, Positano, and Sorrento – there’s truly beautiful scenery but you’re going to have to share the view with a lot of other people. A lot of other people.

We stayed in Amalfi in a lovely, funky hotel up above the town – The Villa Lara. We ate in town and very well. My favorite was a place called Marocco where I had spaghetti with shrimp and lemon. I’d never tried that combination before and Amalfi is the place for it. The local lemons are famous – and unbelievably large – like the size of your head – and they carry a lot of taste. That’s it, I think: just toss the pasta in oil and lemon (probably juice and a little grated peel) and toss in the shrimp. It was totally satisfying with a glass or two of the local white wine.

Jill was done.  For three weeks I'd been force feeding her on a take-no-prisoners march through the restaurants of Italy.  I had all but nailed her feet to the floor.  And then four days in Rome – dio mio, Roma!  If you don’t eat well in Rome, you’re an idiot.    

Now she was on strike. “Forgive me, honey, but I have to go light tonight”, she said.  “Just a little grilled fish and a salad.  And no wine.”    

This last was underlined as if to indicate it should have some special meaning for me.    

“Just eat what you want, baby” I said, moving right past it.  My focus was on the menu, planning my point of attack.    

We were in Ristorante Lorenzo in the stylish seaside resort of Forte Dei Marmi, just down from Pietresanta on the Tuscan coast.  Versilia is the beautiful name Italians give to this region.   Lorenzo is not only the best restaurant in town but one of the most stylish, most satisfying in all of Italy.

I ate a perfect dish the other day and I was lucky enough to be with friends who were able to document the whole experience.

Trista and Cappy have visited us before in Umbria and they are on the A-list, as far as we’re concerned. They’re the easiest, breeziest houseguests in the business. One day, we were noodling in the fridge, trying to concoct a lunch out of various leftovers – very high-level leftovers, I may say – when Jill came up with an idea.

“Have we ever taken you guys to Pettino?” So much for leftovers. Pettino is a tiny village about ten miles (and two thousand feet of altitude) from our house. We jumped in the car and slowly made our way up the twisty hill. At around 800 meters above sea level, we started to see the striped poles on the side of the road that are used in the winter to measure the snowfall. We still had 300 meters more to climb. Pettino boasts a population of 74 inhabitants and many more sheep. The only commercial building that I know of is the small inn that houses the Trattoria Pettino. This was our lunch destination.

I just spent my first night in Rome and wanted to share my dinner from last night. It was at Al Duello, a place a friend recommended. It was absolutely incredible.

It's a cute little place off a random side street between the Pantheon and Piazza Navona. It wasn't too busy and they were super sweet with me. Not only did they bring me a free glass of champagne, but a free desert, as well. I had sadly decided I couldn't quite muster eating it after the other three delicious courses; however, they insisted. Man, whatever it was it was worth shoveling into my mouth and overindulging.

It wasn't the cheapest meal, but given all I ate, how good it was and, oh yeah, two large glasses of wine, it was well worth it. I can only hope the rest of meals are this good.