Italy - A Piece of the Pie
- Aubrey Johnson
- Jul 5, 2024
- 10 min read
This is not a story that takes place during the 10 years I lived far from home. Instead, I was nomadic more recently when I traveled thousands of miles to experience someone else’s home. Last summer I made the trek across the pond to visit my cousin’s family in England, but this summer I did something by myself and traveled to Italy, somewhere I’ve wanted to visit for years.
Italy is known for its beautiful landscapes, history, art, and food, and I was fortunate enough to experience a fraction of it all. I took a tour with the U.K. company Explore Worldwide. I found it after targeted ads and a more in-depth Internet search comparing a few companies. In terms of scenery expectations, the views were not oversold. Every corner my group turned and staircase we climbed while hiking through the small Amalfi Coast towns revealed beautiful views of terraces full of fruit trees, grape vines, and family gardens. From high on the mountains to the beaches (even from a ferry boat and at one point, while I swam in the water itself) we had views of the clear blue water of the Tyrrhenian Sea. Our tour guides, both our hiking guide who was with us for the week and our guide for Pompeii and Herculaneum, painted a thorough picture (thorough enough for a group of tourists standing in the heat) of the region's history. (Although, they did not agree about the inventors of paper or the compass.) I experienced more history during my last two days in Naples when I visited the National Archaeological Museum of Naples and the Royal Palace of Naples. Here I also saw amazing works of art - larger-than-life sculptures, intricate mosaics, and wall paintings uncovered at the archaeological sites of Pompeii and Herculaneum. The Royal Palace was also full of fresco paintings on the ceilings - more separate ceiling paintings than I’ve ever seen instead of one large picture taking up the entire space of a room.
While admiring the details on a door at the palace, I commented to my Australian travel companion how we don’t have places like the ones we’ve seen in our countries since the two countries are so young. We hoped that the Italians didn’t take the artistry found in their city streets (fountains, statues, architecture) for granted, but we imagined some, or maybe most, do. We were just grateful to enjoy it all ourselves.
One thing Italians do not take for granted is food. There were gelato shops and bars (more like our coffee shops but with some alcohol) serving espresso on every corner. I only stopped for gelato three times, which was not enough. And if it was cooler than the 90s and 100s, I would have had coffee more often (iced coffee is not part of their culture, and I did not want to pay €7 - €10). In Naples, I finally enjoyed fritto misto (fried seafood and vegetables), and at the agriturismo where we stayed, bread, mozzarella, and pasta were an almost daily staple. Agriturismo Luna D'Agerola served us meals made with vegetables grown on their property, and they made their pasta from scratch. We had a vegetarian lasagna, spaghetti with clams, and pesto gnocchi (which was better than the seafood gnocchi I ordered at a restaurant on our free night). Some of my group also participated in a cooking class where we learned how to make fresh linguine and mozzarella; then they cooked the linguine for us with marinara, sausage, and fennel - one of my favorites!
As with any place, though, it’s the people that make the trip truly memorable. As much as I enjoyed the views and food, without enjoyable travel companions and friendly Italians eager to share about their country, the trip would not be one I’d care to repeat. I liked that I was the only American since I thought group dynamics would be more interesting. There were 11 people on my tour ranging in age from 36 to 69 who were from Australia, Canada, the United Kingdom, and Jersey (which I learned is not part of the U.K.). The group consisted of two couples and the rest were solo travelers. Through the week’s hikes and mealtimes, we got to know one another personally as well as athletically. “I know where I fall,” I would tell some of my companions when they were going to let me pass, but I opted to hang back. I was happy to keep plodding up every hill, but it wasn’t a race for me. I didn’t end up with close to 2,000 pictures by being the front of the pack!
Our tour guide, Gennaro, was an Amalfi local who knew the area well. Not only does he lead tours for Explore, but in the downseason (winter), he leads local groups through the mountains on more difficult hikes at higher elevations. (For which he had extensive training. He made it sound like Italy cares more about its hikers than the U.S. since Italy has more training requirements and regulations for hiking with guides. In the States, any foolish American can lose oneself and have to cut off their arm, à la 127 Hours. Although to be fair, guides are necessary since signs are not great, even 11 years after this post.) Gennaro answered my questions and shared about his country as any proud Italian would. This included regional history - his impromptu lectures on the sides of the hills were welcome breaks; social practices, such as parents buying homes for their children; local cuisine - I asked where to find Delizia al Limone the first night; and even city utilities, which was prompted by bags of different types of recyclables and food waste seen tied to residential gates on our walk down to our bus every day. (Although to be fair, he wasn’t all-knowing. While he could tell me that no one was bitten by a viper snake - we saw a seemingly dead one hiking through town - since 1954, he was eerily quiet when I asked if he could identify the plants on our trail. I guess he’s not as passionate about plants as the rocks and mountains on which he hikes.) On our last hike, Gennaro made the point to say that while Italy used to be known for the exports of paper and lemons, the modern source of income the country relies on is tourism. He thanked us for joining the tour and allowing him and those who served us at the agriturismo to continue doing what they loved. They loved showing us their country and making our stay the best possible. Without tourists, he wouldn’t have his job with Explore, and the local economies would have to rely on local tourists, who only made up a fraction of those wanting to see the beautiful places we visited. I had never been thanked for being a tourist before, but I can understand why tourists’ presence, even with the occasional complaints and faux pas, makes a difference to their country.
After the tour, when I was on my own in Naples, I thankfully, encountered some kind strangers who took pity on my American naivete. This was mostly asking for directions, since even in my own country, my sense of direction is lacking. I had a few people direct me to the correct train platform (I didn’t want to take the wrong train again). And two different people actually walked me where I wanted to go. In the later afternoon, after getting to the villa where I was staying outside of Naples, I walked down a street trying to find a sandwich shop on my phone. I found it, but it was permanently closed. After walking farther down the street to see what was open before most restaurants opened around 6:30 p.m. or 7:00 p.m., I went into a bakery that was more of a pasticceria. In my broken “Italianish” I asked if everything was “dolce,” and where I could get a “panini.” The woman understood me enough to walk me down the street, maybe five or six shops, to a bread bakery.
While they did not make sandwiches, they did have a mini cheese pizza that was probably sitting in the display case for a few hours. After walking over two miles, when I got back to my room, it tasted just fine. The second stranger to steer me in the right direction was a man sitting outside a cafe in the area north of Naples where I followed Google Maps to Kayak Napoli. It looked like I arrived but the shop front for my kayak tour was nowhere in sight. I asked the man if he knew where it was, and instead of trying to tell me in Italian, which he knew I wouldn’t understand, he waved me to follow him and led me back down the street. The shop was behind a gated parking lot. Here, a younger man who was the parking attendant told me in English that I should have received an email canceling my tour for the day because it was too windy. I found the location, with some help, I just wouldn’t be kayaking, unfortunately.
The last people I want to highlight are those who hosted our pizza class at the restaurant of Hotel Risorgimento in San Lazzaro’s municipality Agerola. Nothing is more quintessentially Neapolitan than pizza. And when my fellow Explorer Googled “best pizza in Naples” while we were trying to decide where to eat while drinking granita at a cafe, countless eateries came up. Rem Malloy of Italy4Real can tell you about nine of the oldest pizzerias in Naples, dating to the 1700s. But my pizza highlight is none of those. I’m sure they’re molto delizioso, but in Agerola, I gained the full experience.
Ten of us on the tour participated in the optional pizza-making class. However, it wasn’t like the hands-on pasta making. Instead, it was more of a history of the family pizzeria. Nicola, the pizza maker, told the story (through his translator Antonio) of how his father started the restaurant and the pizza dough starter that he added to and developed for decades. Nicola grew up watching his father make pizza. His father’s pizza was always the best, but he couldn’t figure out why. When Nicola took over his father’s business in 2013 after his father passed away (or “flew” away, as it would be translated from Italian) he continued adding to the bread starter just like his father taught him. While his pizza was good, it wasn’t great. As a child, Nicola saw his father talking to his starter when he watched him in the kitchen, but Nicola just thought he was crazy and put no stock in it. During COVID in 2020, Nicola’s business had to shut down. His father was already gone by that time, but now, due to the uncertainty of his business and the hardship the world faced during the pandemic, he became depressed and let his now 60-year-old starter die. It was as if he lost his father all over again when he stopped adding to the bread starter since no one was buying pizza during lockdown. Thankfully, the world improved again. When global shifts started to happen and the country opened up, in 2021, Nicola made a new starter. It wasn’t the same one his father fed for decades, but it helped him feel connected to his father by carrying out the same method. The real change came when he started putting more passion into his product and started talking to his dough, just like his father did. He told us how he named it after the Georgian Napoli footballer. (They take their football just as seriously as their pizza.) He called it beautiful, even sexy and treated it with the same love and affection his father used for his dough. When his father was still alive he told him, “Maybe one day you will understand why I speak with my pizza.” And now, he is finally able to feel the passion and the love for the job that his father did. Talking to his dough and replicating his father’s methods with love and passion, made all the difference for his pizza and his business.
As interesting and touching as the story was, we were all ready to try that pizza! Nicola made us two traditional margherita pizzas and two Napolean marinara pizzas. It may have been because we had a full day of hiking to Ravello and back from Amalfi, and it was nearing 8:00 p.m., or it may have been because he cares about his dough and ingredients, but those pizzas were the best I’ve had!
We were told our class included eight pizzas, and after we finished the first four (two of each for our table of 11 people including Gennaro), we were wondering if that was it. Thankfully, the lull didn’t last that long, and we were not disappointed. Four more different kinds of pizzas, followed by Nicola’s own dessert creation, appeared on the tables. There were fresh ricotta, arugula, and tomatoes; pesto, zucchini, basil, a different cheese than mozzarella, and lemon zest (unusual but delicious!); prosciutto, tomatoes, walnuts, and honey; and broccoli leaves, cheese, and sausage. The dessert treat was pieces of dough that were fried and then coated with sugar and lemon zest - similar to a funnel cake. After still feeling hungry after the first two, I was full and satisfied by the time I tasted all six types!
It may be difficult to replicate Neapolitan pizza without the right starter dough, pizza oven, love and passion. But, in The Harvest Baker, Ken includes a few recipes that reminded me of the fresh ingredients Nicola used, even if they’re not quite the same. There is Italian Sausage and Broccoli Rabe Pizza (already described in my post on my Montana COVID Quarantine); Pesto Pizza with Mixed Baby Greens; Grilled Harvest Pizza, Basic & Beyond; Grilled Flatbread with Hummus and Veggies; Cracker Bread Pizza with Red Onions, Pesto, and Parmesan; and Three-Cheese and Mustard Greens Calzones. The Pesto Pizza with Mixed Baby Greens and the Grilled Flatbread with Hummus and Veggies are two of my favorites in the whole book. The pesto pizza had a delicious, chewy crust base with a salad of arugula, spinach, and a vinaigrette dressing on top. This pizza is a complete meal eaten with a knife and fork. I made the grilled flatbreads with the help of my parents. It was an experiment in grilling pizza, but it worked great, and the hummus and veggies on top were a welcome variation to marinara and cheese. After that trial, I was able to teach my cousin and her family about grilled pizza when I visited last December. If you want to use one of Ken’s recipes, I recommend the Grilled Flatbread with Hummus and Veggies linked above. If you want Neapolitan pizza, I recommend visiting Italy for yourself. ;)
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