I hadn’t been to Italy since 1997. I’d been in Italian waters, sick in my ship’s cabin whilst my friends frolicked and ate gelato earlier in the year, but I hadn’t set foot on gorgeous Italian land for far too long. All of that changed last week. An extended weekend in Ravello and other parts of the Amalfi Coast set things straight. Being Australian, I still marvel how a flight from London to Italy is half the time it takes from Sydney to Perth; London truly is the centre of the world.
Our darling friend Piers (I say our as it feels as if we all know Piers), owns a villa in Ravello, and it was lovely to be shown around by someone who is more or less considered a local; this way, you get to meet all the fun people. The view from the villa is not bad, if you’re the kind of person who likes sweeping views of beautiful hillsides and the gorgeous light dancing on the Mediterranean. It really isn’t the sort of view you want to gaze at endlessly with a glass of fiano. So we didn’t.
Italian food, and most food in general, is at its best when it is kept simple and the natural beauty of the produce gets to shine through.
There was an abundance of pasta with fresh seafood, lobster, crab and the words of the old adage keep it simple stupid, certainly rang true; the hero dish of the weekend was spaghetti with tomatoes, basil and garlic from Bar Mare, Praiano . It doesn’t get better than robust, unadorned flavours.
