February 18, 2013
I believe this about breakfast: you absolutely must eat a healthy one.
The breakfast I eat in Sicily goes against everything I hold true.
I ingest a big fat brioche (brioscia) oozing with chocolate or pistachio paste, snowy with powdered sugar. Along with a sugary shot of caffeine.
But the guilt I feel is only a passing blip on the radar of my emotions before Euphoria sets in. Does my lack of shame stem from the fact that everyone else on the island is doing it, too?
Or because, to get my hands on these treats, I have to haul myself down one hundred steps?
And then haul myself back up like some kind of alpinist?
***
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February 12, 2013
Well, happy Carnevale. While they’re whooping it up in Venice, with masked balls and banquets and elaborate costumes and masks, here in my sleepy village at the southernmost outpost of Italy, the only trace I’ve seen of carnival spirit today is the odd tiger, lion or skeleton.
I had to run after this little tiger…
When I caught up to him, I asked where his tiger head was. “I forgot it at home,” he said, clutching his tail.
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February 9, 2013
As we tooled around Sicily this week, a theme emerged: scary sights.
Spotted in the Ballaro market in Palermo: goat heads. What is the home cook to do with these? Are they meant for lunch, or…?
Wikipedia says, “In Sicilian witchcraft it is customary to leave a fish head on the door step of one’s enemy to ward off malicious intention. The practice dates back to at least 1308, when Dante referenced it in his epic, the Divine Comedy. In a more serious feud, escalation of hostilities can be signaled by the appearance of a goat head or horse head.”
Below was the Dantesque vision that greeted us as we entered Mazara del Vallo. I can’t say for sure what it is.
And in the Mazara fish market, the catch of the day was a creature the size of a very large pizza, with eyes instead of olives, and a laughing mouth.
***
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February 6, 2013
A few people we’ve met in Palermo:
Minnie Mouse and her mother, in the gardens of Villa Giulia. The pink polka-dot child is all ready for Carnevale on February 12. After I took her picture, she grabbed my camera to see herself on the LCD screen.
Dorotea and Paolo, married for 62 years. They live in the Kalsa neighborhood of Palermo, the old Arab quarter. She knit the red shawl to keep Paolo warm in winter.
Sal and his partner in Palermo harbor. On a sunny day, it’s good to be a fisherman, but life can be hard, Sal says.
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February 2, 2013
We drove up from the south on a bright blue day.
“Let’s stick to the little back roads!” I said, and Kim raised his eyebrows.
We saw gorgeous villas abandoned to pigeons.
We saw Giovanni, pastore, who has kept goats for half a century.
We saw abandoned houses the color of persimmons, with trees shaped like corn dogs on a stick.
And that is where we got into trouble.
We had to turn around. (Only lost a few hours.)
We zipped through the cold Madonie Mountains…
…and came out the other side to warm sea breezes. Palermo! Straight on!
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All photos and text on BaroqueSicily are Copyright of Jann Huizenga ©2009-2015, unless otherwise noted. Material may not be copied or re-published without written permission. All rights reserved.
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