When one visits Pompeii, there is a clear sense of what was once violent and threatening. When one visits Sicily’s east coast, there is a sense of what is now violent and threatening. Mount Etna is the highest active volcano in all of Europe. It is two and a half times higher than Mount Vesuvius and towers over all of eastern Sicily. When I say its active, it is active, having erupted thirteen times since 1949, most recently in 2020.

Well, here we go again! Etna eruptions are probably the only thing in Sicily that runs on schedule. The good news is, this latest episode poses no true danger to the surrounding villages. “We’ve seen worse”, is the word on the street.

With Etna in the news this week, Huong and I of course scrambled to view the images and play the videos of our own experience on the mountain when we visited Sicily in June of 2018. After sharing a few laughs, we found ourselves reminiscing about all the activities we enjoyed during that trip. Sicily was one of three stops, along with Matera (located in Italy’s boot heel) and Positano on the Amalfi Coast. Italy provides an abundance of options, both urban and rural, north and south. But there is something about Sicily that is quite romantic in a “land that time forgot” sort of way. While this reality obviously poses significant problems as it relates to government services and infrastructure, a tourist who might otherwise consider writing off Sicily should think again. Sicily is beautiful and untouched, the people warm and inviting, and the history interesting and complex.

The collective impact of multiple civilizations over the millennia have shaped Sicily into one of the most culturally-rich regions in all of Italy. Greek and Carthaginian influence is in abundance, as both former empires invested heavily in the island. Carthage on the western half with Palermo it’s Sicilian capital, and Greece on the eastern half with Syracuse its capital. Interestingly, during Roman rule Sicily was mostly ignored, thus ensuring Carthage and Greek architecture as the lasting aesthetic. As for Sicily’s agricultural heritage of lemons, oranges, and sugar, much of that is thanks to Arabic domination in the 800’s and 900’s. Throw in some Byzantine and Norman rule, and the island has quite the soup of contrasting empires and influences.

There are many ways to approach the planning of an itinerary for Sicily, but we chose a four day stay that focused on the island’s eastern seaboard. As for Palermo, Cefalù, and the western and southern coastlines, they will be saved for a future visit.

Our home base was the beautiful and picturesque village of Taormina, and our excursions included Mount Etna to the west, Vendicari Nature Reserve at the southern tip, and a small village to the north named Savoca, best known as Michael Corleone’s exile hideaway in “The Godfather”.

The evening of our arrival, we landed in Catania via Rome, picked up our rental car, drove to Taormina, checked in to our Airbnb, and were taken through the customary walkthrough of the property by our dapper host Salvatore. He then eagerly assisted me in completing the important task of wine acquisition. We hopped on his motorcycle and zoomed up the steep crooked roads of this ancient hillside town to visit his friend Tomasso’s wine bar. I scored a couple of great pinot noirs, returned to our new abode, and bid a fond “buonanotte” to my new friend. After uncorking una bottiglia di vino, I then sat with my beautiful bride on the back patio of our temporary home overlooking the Ionian Sea, with wine in hand, listening to the crashing waves while gazing at a Sicilian sky filled with stars. Life is filled with moments. This…..this was one of them.

Our first out-of-town excursion was Etna. We drove our rental car from nearby Taormina, which is at sea level, and wound our way up the side of the volcano. We stopped along the way for a great platform view of one of the main lava flow areas, a massive wasteland of ash cutting through a heavily forested area. The view is ominous and breathtaking.

We then continued up the winding roads and eventually parked in a giant lot next to the gondolas. We bought our tickets, caught a ride further up the mountain on what appeared to be an antique gondola (yikes!), and then walked to an even higher point which had an altitude marking of 9,000 feet (for perspective, Denver is 5,500 ft). This is the highest point a visitor can traverse without a special climbing guide. The surface was dark, ashy and moon-like. I’ve never seen anything like it.

The gondola ride is scary for anyone who has issues with questionable engineering and heights, Huong being one of those people. At the conclusion of that day’s experience, she disembarked from the gondola, regained her composure and then questioned, in adorably pouting fashion, “the ROI” of possible death vs seeing the top of a volcano. She said the only way someone should ever go to the summit is if there is a Chanel boutique up there selling handbags for 50% off.

No matter how upset she was, I guaranteed her she would eventually look back fondly at this harrowing ascent and descent. Well, we watched the video footage this past week and…..um…..I was wrong. She relived the horror. Maybe we need a few more years before my prognostication comes to fruition.

The next morning when I was making a local call in Taormina, I got an error message from my T-Mobile service indicating I dialed a wrong number. The voice on the other end was my dad’s. That unmistakable baritone that he rode to a long and distinguished career as a tv newsman. After retiring as a journalist, he did quite a bit of commercial work, both on camera and voice over. As a kid, I would come home from school and see his commercials running on local tv channels in between cartoons. Seeing him on tv and hearing him on radio at random times during my life was common. But he had passed away only months before this trip, so hearing his voice while dialing a local number in eastern Sicily of all places was a bit of a blind side. I called the wrong number two more times just to listen to it. Funny thing is, he was always relentlessly correcting my grammar during my childhood, and here he was posthumously informing me my call could not be completed as dialed. The teaching never stops I guess.

Huong and I are beach people. And, as with our NYC food tour experience which focuses on hidden treasures, we always seek out-of-the-way beaches during our travels. Don’t get me wrong. The coastline in and around Taormina is beautiful, but it is more touristy, with umbrellas, lounge chairs, and crowds. So we decided to get in the car and check out a less traversed beach situated at the very southeastern corner of Sicily in the protected Nature Reserve of Vendicari.

Half the fun of Vendicari is the drive and hike. This is not an easy beach to reach. After an hour’s drive south from Taormina, we made the first left into the Reserve, followed the sign for Marianelli Beach, drove along gravel roads sandwiched between what looked to be rather old stone walls, passed through some fields, and finally reached the parking lot.

The approach to the coast from the highway at the Vendicari Nature Reserve in Sicily

There is an option to park for free in an unattended lot or pay five euro to park in the tended lot. Based on what we have read, it is a very bad idea to park in the unattended lot because your car will probably get broken into. So…..five euros will be well spent. After that, an enjoyable ten minute nature walk gets you to the beach.

As for the payoff at the end, it is so worth it.

Along the shoreline of the Nature Reserve is a collection of Greek ruins from 5th century BC and more “modern” decayed fisheries built by Sicilians in the 18th century. Along that same shoreline is what feels like untouched beach. The crowds are sparse, the water shallow, gentle and crystal clear.

On another day during our stay we planned on hiking in the Cava Grande Nature Reserve. But Huong was feeling slightly under the weather and the physical requirements of that hike are significant. While we cannot confirm the value of this particular excursion, our research lends us to believe it is well worth the time and physical toll. The hike consists of an hour long descent to a beautiful lagoon where you can swim and relax. Keep this in mind if planning your own trip.

When not hopping in the car and exploring the countryside, we enjoyed walking Taormina. Originally founded by the Carthaginians circa 400 BC, it was overtaken within a decade by the Greeks. The Greeks invested in infrastructure and the town grew rapidly. One of the lasting relics of the Greek era is the Teatro Antica amphitheater, which has remained well preserved and possesses a breathtaking view of the sea. Taormina is both upscale and lazy, offering higher end services (and prices) while also preserving itself in a manner which makes it feel as though it is stuck in a foregone era. Because of that, one finds themselves moving slowly and in carefree fashion. It is downright delightful.

A bird’s eye view of Taormina (drone footage credit to Fredrik Simonssons)

One evening in Taormina we stepped out for a late bite to eat. Unbeknownst to us, we just so happened to choose a quiet block dominated by one territorial Sicilian kitty. Being that we were traveling and thousands of miles away from our own kitties, we missed them a great deal and therefore felt an immediate connection to her…..Huong especially…..and we became a table of three. Huong ordered seafood. As it turns out, this kitty had kittens of her own and would make the rounds, visiting the tables of diners, hoping to first feed herself and then feed her kittens. She made multiple visits to our table, each time trotting away with a bounty from Huong’s dish. We all ate well that evening.

On our final day in Sicily, we packed, checked out, and made our way north to the industrial town of Messina. On the way, we made a brief detour up the hillside to the tiny picturesque village of Savoca. Some of you may be familiar with Savoca as Michael Corleone’s hideaway in “The Godfather”. For anyone staying in Taormina, Savoca is a nearby place to, if nothing else, take a stroll and enjoy an aperitivo while catching the late afternoon sun on the front patio of Bar Vitelli. Then, later, when you re-watch “The Godfather”, you can point vigorously at the tv screen and exclaim, “I was there! I was there!”, most assuredly annoying anyone in your presence.

When we arrived in Messina for our ferry transport, we spent a comical and calamitous hour driving around trying to figure out where exactly we were supposed to buy our ticket (fun fact: it was NOT at the ferry location itself). Once we finally had ticket in hand, we drove onto the car ferry, parked, and made our way across the channel to the Italian mainland. Something we never realized before this trip is that there are no bridges connecting Sicily to the rest of Italy. The region is prone to earthquakes and the fear by engineers is that a bridge would not stand up to significant tectonic movement.

After enjoying some sea air during our thirty minute crossing of the channel, we disembarked and began our two hour trek to the region of Basilicata and the incredible hilltop town of Matera. Alas, Matera and its ancient caves will be a story for another day.

In the fall of 2004 I proposed to Huong. After the initial glow of engagement, it soon dawned on us that our wedding logistics posed some challenges. Her family resided in Western Pennsylvania and we were living in Miami. Huong wasn’t excited for a Western PA wedding and the odds of extended family traveling such a distance as Miami was low. So during a moment of….some might call it frustration….others might call it clarity…..Huong declared “let’s just get married in Florence”. As in Florence, Italy. I had never been to Italy. She had never been to Italy. Neither of us had vacationed overseas. We didn’t even own passports! But, as has been the case during our twenty years together, I fell in line with what she wanted to do and said “ok, let’s do it”. Happy (future) wife, happy life. You know the drill.

Picture taken in 2001

Why Florence, Italy? To this day I have no idea. She must have read something or seen a travel piece on tv. But this turn of events PERFECTLY captured the nature of our relationship. Apart from and prior to the meeting, we both made relatively conservative decisions and led conservative lives. Together, the sky was and is the absolute (expletive) limit. I would do anything for her, and she for me. I would move anywhere for her (and did!) and I would go anywhere with her. So when she blurted out “Florence”, I was like “why not?” I didn’t bat an eyelash. That’s how we have been since Day 1.

Before I met her, my career was spent working for “the man”. I made a nice living but began to feel caged. Once together, she planted the seeds of entrepreneurship in my mind and set my imagination free. For the first time, I became a problem solver and inventor. I launched an education technology company. She was climbing the corporate ladder and doing so with great success. We were creating a life together. None of this included travel…..until she uttered the word “Florence” in the fall of 2004.

We were complete rubes. I traveled to practically every state in the country for business and did so regularly, but I almost never traveled for leisure and never had gone anywhere internationally. But hey, I was going to plan a wedding in Italy myself. Don’t worry, I GOT THIS! Welp, to marry in Italy, one must run a bit of a bureaucratic gauntlet. Contact the local Italian Embassy here in the U.S., visit the U.S. embassy in Florence, visit the judge at the courthouse in Florence, “post” the wedding announcement in Florence. Finito! We’re married.

I didn’t make it past Step 1. The dang Italian Embassy would never answer their phone! Days and then weeks passed. What at the time was frustrating now makes me chuckle, and has since become representative of what makes Italy so charming to us. Italians do things on their time, at their speed. We ultimately decided to hire a Tuscany-based wedding planner. Best decision ever.

Outside of the wedding, the rest of our trip was ours to plan. Two nights in Paris, three nights in Venice, seven nights in Florence including a wedding, and then three nights in Rome before flying home….as newlyweds. In theory this all sounded wonderful. In execution it….it was a little uneven.

My pose in front of the Arc de Triomphe would make morose singing legend Morrissey proud
While standing outside The Vatican, a bus with an “Over the Hedge” ad on its side began to pull away and I said “Huong! Quick! Smile like a character!”

We set out for Europe in October of 2006. In Paris, we ran and laughed in the rain. But that was because we ended up not researching dining options and wandered far from our hotel, unable to decide where to eat. In Venice, we excitedly and successfully communicated with a clerk at a vaporetto (water taxi) stand with our
newly learned Italian phrases. But this was after originally thinking we were going to land at Marco Polo Airport and take a brief walk to the water’s edge for water transportation to our hotel. Instead we landed at Treviso Airport (Venice had a second airport, who knew?) and had to take a twenty minute bus ride from our inland airport to the vaporetto stand, completely bewildered by this geographic turn of events. In Florence, we drove the narrow lanes and piazzas while the bells rang and pigeons flew away from their positions on the ground….like we were in a De Beers diamond commercial. But while this scene was taking place, we were anxiously debating whether we were even driving on a road or a pedestrian area. “We’re going to get arrested! What are the Italian prisons like??” In Rome, we ate amazing pasta dishes next to beautiful millenia-old buildings. But we had no idea that there were so many other culinary delights the city had to offer and in neighborhoods not so touristy and over priced.

Ah, but that week in Florence. It was incredibly romantic, and it impacted us in a way where we knew we would never be the same. Our view of the world and our place in it would be forever changed.

On our wedding day, prior to the ceremony, we posed for photos. This was not a normal photo shoot however. Nadia, our wedding planner, had serious connections. One was with Ferrari, and they sent their photographer to shoot us for a couple of hours posing with five Ferrari sports cars of different models and eras, one of them the personal possession of Enzo Ferrari, the company’s founder. To thank us for our time and participation, the Ferrari rep then let us pick one of the five sports cars to drive for thirty minutes through the Tuscan hillside outside of Florence. I chose Enzo Ferrari’s, the 1964 250 GT Lusso.

After our joy ride we pulled up to our wedding location, which was the garden of a villa in the south of Florence across the River Arno, down the hill from Piazzale Michelangelo. We bade a fond farewell to the classic Ferrari, and made things official. With a violinist playing in the background, the service was conducted completely in Italian, very little of it understood by our untrained ears. I THINK we’re married??

The trip triggered a new mindset for us. Upon our return home, we found ourselves routinely hearkening back to memorable moments. The recounting of events in storytelling form was an elixir from the stresses of day to day life. We wanted more.

Hence the initiation of a calendar filled with travel. The more trips we took, the more seasoned we became. The more seasoned we became, the better planners we were. What began as one trip per year became two. Then three. And the trip itself was only part of the experience. The planning became a big event for us. We began creating spreadsheets where we would establish a spine for a trip and then assign responsibilities. I choose the countries and cities, research their history, and map out our excursions. Huong researches accommodations, whether they are Airbnb’s or hotels, and she also selects the restaurants. We pour wine, dine from a charcuterie board, open our laptops, and then research and document.

Flatiron District viewed from our bedroom, NYC

Both Huong and I are highly opinionated. We evaluate our travel excursions with a critical eye. So in 2017, when I retired from education technology pursuits, I said to her “what’s next?” She pointed to our passion for travel, how we have strong beliefs and good taste, and that this might prove beneficial to others. That was all I needed. The light bulb turned on over my head. My inventor mindset kicked in. Within weeks I drafted a long term plan, a plan that ultimately includes operating a travel-oriented business in Italy. I mean, why go halfway, right? But where to start? I had no background in the food and travel industry, nor did she. The logical place was our backyard. New York City. Looking out our bedroom window we saw incredible history and architecture, as well as tons of fantastic boutique restaurants. The idea of a tour for foodies was initiated. The tour began Memorial Day weekend, 2017, and has since risen in meteoric fashion in TripAvisor’s “things to do in New York City” rankings. In 2019 we received their Certificate of Excellence and in January of 2020 we earned Top 1% status. At publication we are listed #64 of 5,180 things to do in NYC.

Food and travel is a passion unlike anything else I have done professionally. So much so that, while it may totally sound cliche, it doesn’t feel like a job. I love heading down to the starting point of my food tour, eager to meet new friends. I love when people reach out to me, as they often do, for recommendations regarding overseas travel as well as restaurants and activities in New York City. I appreciate being asked, and I go the extra mile to offer information of substance.

Boy have we learned a lot since those clumsy early days. I hope you follow us through our experiences, enjoy our writing, and find yourselves, like us, in love with the world of food and travel.

Our ritual when flying to Europe is to catch an overnight flight, check in to our apartment or hotel before noon, then nap until the late afternoon. This way we are feeling fresh and ready to begin our trip in earnest. We then invest heavily in our first night on the town. When visiting London, the perfect first night for us is a visit to Ronnie Scott’s. Founded in 1959 by saxophonist Ronnie Scott, this world famous jazz club bustles with crowds every night of the week. Originally in a dingy basement, its more modern digs now reside in a more upscale locale in Soho. They serve food and a variety of cocktails, and the warm red glow of the main room provides a throwback charm. We make it a point to book in advance, as this is a live venue. There are a variety of seating options, all with tiered pricing, and the doors close at 9:30pm.

In true sliding doors fashion, London’s love affair with jazz might have never come to be if not for a conversation that took place in New York City’s Flatiron Building in 1912. The Flatiron Building? Well, it turns out two brothers from The Basque region (the contested territory between Spain and France) opened an establishment in the Flatiron’s vast basement and named it “Tavern Louie”. The space actually extended underground all the way across 5th Avenue. It was huge!

New York City’s Flatiron Building, 1903

This unusually liberal establishment was all the rage among New Yorkers of the era, many of the patrons filing in from the theater district after a show. Women had their very own section of the tavern reserved, thus protecting them if they were not in the mood to be disturbed by overeager men. Openly gay men were also welcomed and embraced, and many of the musicians were black, among them Louis Mitchell and his band. Once again, not the norm in turn of the century New York City.

The Louis Mitchell Band, discovered in the clubs up in Harlem, brought an unheard of sound to midtown Manhattan that amazed diners. One of those diners happened to be Irving Berlin, the renowned composer and lyricist. After a set, Berlin approached Mitchell and recommended he take his act to London. Mitchell did so and became immensely popular in the U.K. in the years leading up to World War I.

Before the first artillery shell was lobbed in The Great War, the sounds of black music had already crossed the Atlantic. In the summer of 1914, drummer Louis Mitchell, considered the first man to bring jazz to Britain, and his band opened at the Piccadilly Restaurant in London. British journalists described Mitchell as “the supreme artist of noise”.

Harlem in Montmartre: A Paris Jazz Story Between the Great Wars
By William A. Shack

After the war, he returned to Europe, but this time it was Paris where he once again introduced his unique sound to captivated audiences. To this day, the French consider jazz to be the greatest American export.

So, today’s thriving jazz scene in NYC, London, and Paris all ties back to turn of the century, The Louis Mitchell Band, and the since-abandoned basement of The Flatiron Building. Who woulda thunk?

And for your listening pleasure, I will leave you with Nora Jones, live at Ronnie Scott’s, performing “And Then There Was You”. Enjoy.


Tagliolini with sausage ragu

France is fun, but there is something about Italy that resonates with us in a way no other place in the world comes close to doing. On an especially hot day in July, 2019 we drove from Nice to Milan and all we had time to do, due to our commute, was eat lunch and eat dinner. But being that we were in Italy, we knew both of these experiences would possess extra flair. We stopped for lunch in Sanremo, a city that resides on the Italian Riviera, less than an hour east of the French border. Our stop? “La Porta Verde” (Address: Via Francesco Corradi, 86, 18038 Sanremo IM, Italy), owned and operated by Chef Francesco and his wife Katie (with the smiling assistance of their three month old baby Olivia). This is a place that just oozes “local” and to be honest, they were surprised and elated that we not only found them but also made this stop our singular mission during our brief afternoon visit to town. The meal began with an offering of octopus and burrata before the main course, which was a homemade tagliolini with sausage ragu. Sooo good.

Not only did we dine on wonderful Italian cuisine, we engaged and befriended the proprietors who welcomed us into their establishment in a way that it felt like they were welcoming us into their home. All it took on our part was to have smiling faces, an appreciation for our surroundings, and an eagerness to engage them in conversation. In Italy, we have found that we get what we give, and the warm embrace we so often feel in this country is truly incredible.

As an aside, we have noticed the city is often spelled one of two ways: San Remo and Sanremo. The clearest definition I have found is that when written in Italian, it’s Sanremo and when written in English it’s San Remo. Do with that as you will. We are going to be rule breakers and present it in its Italian form of Sanremo.

We enjoyed our visit to “La Porta Verde” and consider it a worthy stop whether staying in Sanremo or driving E80 past town. Street parking in the area can be tricky, so we found an inexpensive parking garage within a five minute walk (Garage address: Via Martiri della Libertà, 25, 18038 Sanremo IM, Italy).

As for the drive from Nice to Milan, it was pretty easy, especially with a relaxing lunch stop along the way. Scenic along the coast, nondescript heading north to Milan from Genoa, the drive was a win-win in that we kept costs down not having to fly to a smaller city like Nice and it allowed us to do the things we love like exploring the countryside and stopping in random places. These little moments are the ones we remember and romanticize long after the trip has come to an end.

I may or may not use that wonderful Italian left lane and get places a little sooner than what Google says
Beautiful drone footage taken above Sanremo