My Sicily Today: "Then Get Your Ass on an Airplane."
This chapter of my connection to Sicily began in a relative's kitchen during a family gathering. A Sicilian friend had just returned from a food show and mentioned that he had met a group of Sicilians who were looking for someone to import their products.
I contacted my friend to see if he had any information about the group. He gave me their contact information, and I sent an email asking for more details. There was no response, so I sent another email. This time they replied that they would love to discuss the possibility with me.
I asked if I could taste the products. They told me they had left samples in town and would arrange to have them sent to me. When the samples arrived, my daughter and I opened them and started tasting. They were amazing.
I contacted a business friend to ask a few questions. He said he would be in town in a few weeks and suggested we meet. I brought the samples with me, and he said, "Please give them to my wife." It was the first time I had met her. She was tasting the products while we talked. Little did I know she was a gourmet cook. She said the products were excellent.
After a long discussion, he looked at me and asked, "Are you serious?"
I said yes.
He replied, "Then get your ass on an airplane."
I contacted the Sicilian group and told them I wanted to come to Sicily and meet everyone. I asked them to make a hotel reservation for me.
They answered, "No, you are staying with one of our families."
That conversation took place on July 15. By August 24, I was on a plane headed to Catania, Sicily, for six unforgettable days.
They met me at the airport. The airline had lost my luggage, but after an hour we were on our way to their family home. There were greetings all around from grandmother, mother, father, brother, and sister.
That evening we went to a town called Brucoli. We had dinner, walked through the streets at midnight, and stopped for pistachio gelato. There was a beautiful moon, a warm breeze, and gelato in hand — what could have been better?
While we were walking, we met some people on the street. As it turned out, one of them was the father of the Sicilian friend who had first mentioned the food show.
The next morning, I came downstairs early. His mother looked at me and, in Italian, asked if I wanted a cappuccino.
"Yes, please."
At ten o'clock that morning we visited a winemaker. There was a spread of cheeses and meats and a flight of wines to taste.
After flying all day, staying up until two in the morning, and then spending the next day eating and drinking, I was a little tired. I found a lounge chair under a beautiful olive tree. Between the sea breeze and the sun shining through the branches, I fell asleep.
I woke up two hours later.
To be continued.
Some things don't translate. They just live in you.
