The 18th century Sicilian palazzo that housed Madonna’s birthday bash, a vintage leather-bound backgammon set, and historic pastries in Erice
Plus homemade Sicilian mafaldina rolls, packing for Italy and my appreciation for acupuncture
A Trip: We arrived in Noto in the late afternoon— when the light cast a sandy glow over the little city, and well-rested locals started reemerging from their homes. We were renting an apartment from a Roman woman who had purchased the flat years ago— when Noto was sleepy and the nearby beaches were empty. She was not shy about sharing her evolving levels of disdain for tourists with us— even if she was passing over the keys to two of them. I like to think of myself as a traveler versus a tourist— but over the years have leaned into the “I’m a visitor” mentality. I think it’s so important to remind yourself of that. Especially if you grew up in the era of Bourdain like I did— which constantly pushed the cool message of venturing into parts unknown (all great), but obviously so nuanced. I made a big mistake when we met our Roman host— in that I mentioned two friends were visiting but had not disclosed this to her given the plans materialized pretty late and we’d already paid. The home had an extra bedroom and was suited for 6 guests, but still, I simply forgot to get in touch and clear. She was understandably peeved— especially knowing the small town was about to double in size due to l’infiorata— a big flower festival that carpets the streets of historic Noto and draws visitors from all over Europe and mainland Italy. It was my fault completely, and I felt terrible about it. She sat in her annoyance with me like she was in a comfy old chair, but thankfully moved on shortly after and didn’t accept my offer for additional money. I knew she’d forgiven me when she gave me a list of her favorite quiet beaches and the best spot to stop for sandwiches tucked within a local petrol station.
Noto is a cool, beautiful place— it’s one of Sicily’s baroque towns— having been rebuilt after the earthquakes of 1693. From a modern lens— our visit (May 2022) was before the White Lotus effect and the destination was most famous for the presence of Caffe Sicilia and visionary Corrado Assenza. Watch that episode of Chef’s Table if you haven’t already. And above all, go if you can. Also go to a lovely little wine bar called Ritrovino— which is owned by a Tuscan man named Gaetano, and tell them Dana from NJ sent you :).
We spent two weeks there, and four nights with friends visiting from Brooklyn before they ventured off on their own Sicilian adventure. The first day we were all together, we climbed down from the northern part of the city where we were staying, and ate granita with brioche for breakfast. Filling your days in Sicily is a beautiful thing when you just let the destination embrace you. It’s a hard place to be rigid and frantic— and I love it for that. We made no plans for the most part, and let it envelop us. This afternoon was a wonderful one because we basically had Palazzo Castelluccio to ourselves (our visit cost 10 euros per person at the time). The incredible, 100+ room 18th-century Sicilian palazzo of more than 100 rooms is owned by French filmmaker Jean-Louis Remilleux. He lives in a portion and recently restored another section, which he’s filled with his collection of astonishing art and antiques. There are gilted candelabras, leaf-carved urns, whimsical bird cages and even an eye-catching leopard-print tiled floor, among other awe-inducing details. You can read all about the restoration in A Palace in Sicily: A Masterpiece Restored. Easily one of my favorite spaces in all of the island. I later learned Madonna housed her 64th birthday bash here two months after we went home. I’m glad we went when we did.
A Thing: Who plays backgammon? I sourced this very cool leather-bound set a few months back and I’m now in pursuit of some more vintage games. I like the thought of playing them in the park, or enjoying them outside with summer cocktails and sunshine.
A Look: Always on the hunt for great vintage catch alls and love this Tre Scalini ashtray from the 70s. My dad actually remembers this restaurant and the branding is top notch. While no longer relevant, here’s the review from 1979.
A Time: While I’m on the subject of Italy—and have the appetite of a bull given I’m still nursing Matilda— let’s talk pastries. Some of the best I’ve ever had can be found in a fairytale-like medieval hill town called Erice perched above Trapani. There is a famous pastry shop there helmed by Maria Grammatico— the most beloved authority on all things sweet in Sicily. Thanks to her skillful art, a slew of historic Sicilian recipes for cakes, almond-based pastries and traditional specialties are still being produced today. My favorites (some pictured here) are the genovesi, maritozzi and belli e brutti. You can read all about Maria here via Italy Magazine— the article does a great job summarizing her fascinating story. She’s helped inspire me to try and make a cassata for Tild’s birthday in a few weeks. More on that later—let’s see if I can muster the courage.
A Take: I’ll be in Italy for work in a couple of weeks. It’s just a few days but long gone are the days that I can pack the night before. Now I find myself strategizing a meal plan for my 11-month old, stressing about my milk supply (and just being apart from her in general), as well as starting a list of what I’m wearing for the 4 nights I’m away. I’ve commenced with my plane outfit— which I think will be this. This hand-knit heather gray cardigan is my new best friend and seeing me nicely through the transition to spring. Also don’t sleep on stealing your husband’s shirts.
A Dish: I made Sicilian mafaldina/ bread rolls this morning. This is a pretty easy recipe using semolina flour, honey, olive oil, salt and starter. I should’ve baked them a little longer but will definitely make again soon. Matilda prefers hers with butter— a good representation of Sicily and Scotland :). Here’s a recipe for reference. They’re fun to make with kiddos because they’re shaped like little snakes.
A Piece of Wisdom: I went to acupuncture yesterday. I starting going back in 2014. My Nonni was a big supporter of this type of Chinese medicine and I had always been curious— so I booked an appointment at a nice studio on 23rd street just a block from the Chelsea Hotel. I did a little consultation first with a practitioner— she asked me what I was hoping to gain from the treatments (overall wellness, de-stress, respond to my curiosity)?)—she looked at my tongue and feet and then I had my first go. Treatments were made in a common room with a couple reclining chairs (almost like the ones you get pedicures in), and massage tables. It was a mixed bag of older folks, some women seemingly in their 30s and 40s for fertility treatments, and athletes. It was warm and spa-like music played on repeat. It was a relaxing place and I found myself going once a month as a wellness practice to chill out in response to the intensity of work at the time. I came to really enjoy it— and it worked. A couple years later, I was going through a particularly challenging chapter in my life. Reflecting on it now, my body was certainly reacting to some unprocessed trauma— and well— I basically limped my way into the studio, barely able to move. I felt like my body was turning on me, and was just able to make it onto the table. I remember the woman who saw me that day— her name was Masha. She put her hand on my arm— and simply said, “you’re very scared— but I promise you’re gonna be okay.” It’s funny in moments like that where a complete stranger can near level you with their empathy. She told me I was carrying a whole lot of fear in my body (fear=poison) and that with my blessing, she’d like to release my psoas— where I was holding most of it. In yoga, the psoas is often spoken of as the seat or muscle of the soul, and surrounds the major energy center of body around our hips. A flexible and strong psoas grounds us and allows subtle energies to flow through the bones, muscles and joints. At the time— mine was not that. I let her do her thing. The treatment lasted about an hour and a half— and the best way I can describe it, after she did some (not painful) needle work around my hips, was like a little door opened in my lower back and hot lava poured out. I truthfully felt the pain leave my body, and was able to walk out of there lighter and with greater mobility than I’d had in weeks. Over the years I’ve turned to acupuncture for a myriad of things, and see it continuing to be a strong pillar in my own approach to wellness/ self care. Have you tried acupuncture? Has it worked for you?
Thanks for reading x
Dana
so enjoyed this!! from dreaming of being back in sicily for almond based pastries to wondering if i need acupuncture (i’ve only done it once!) regularly, this was the perfect sunday read. do you mind sharing the name of your chelsea practitioner?
1) dreaming of a trip to Sicily!
2) I've been meaning to source a vintage mahjong set, your backgammon set has me inspired
3) we need to know the full outfit deets (mary janes?!)