Taormina is a charming little city perched up onto the steep cliffs of Sicily’s eastern coast, overlooking the Ionian Sea at over 800 feet above the water. We arrived by railroad in the late afternoon to the Giardini Naxos station, an indication of the city’s rich Greek, Roman, and even Siculi history.
The sun was only beginning its descent to the West, but still piercing the sea in a way that illuminated all of the titanic boulders beneath the surface.
We took a bus from the station up to the main city of Taormina, a short ride with views that will make you praise every moment of breath you’ve had in this vast universe. Riding up the winding streets that hug the steep rocky sides of the mountain, we pointed out ruins from millennia past either Greek or Roman. Giò put his biased bets on the Romans and we sighed at the picturesqueness of it all.
Taormina is teeming with tourists from all over Europe. It was a relief when one would find a small deli or café noticeably frequented more by its locals than by tourists. Like the small Alimentari da Melania e Giulia that reminded me of a bodega in Washington Heights, run by two young ladies under what appears to be the age of thirty (either sisters or friends). Giulia would make us panini with “tutto ciò che ho” (whatever I’ve got) as she shrugged her shoulders and proceeded to prepare the most amazing prosciutto and formaggio sandwich I’ve ever had.
The sun was only beginning its descent to the West, but still piercing the sea in a way that illuminated all of the titanic boulders beneath the surface.
We took a bus from the station up to the main city of Taormina, a short ride with views that will make you praise every moment of breath you’ve had in this vast universe. Riding up the winding streets that hug the steep rocky sides of the mountain, we pointed out ruins from millennia past either Greek or Roman. Giò put his biased bets on the Romans and we sighed at the picturesqueness of it all.
Taormina is teeming with tourists from all over Europe. It was a relief when one would find a small deli or café noticeably frequented more by its locals than by tourists. Like the small Alimentari da Melania e Giulia that reminded me of a bodega in Washington Heights, run by two young ladies under what appears to be the age of thirty (either sisters or friends). Giulia would make us panini with “tutto ciò che ho” (whatever I’ve got) as she shrugged her shoulders and proceeded to prepare the most amazing prosciutto and formaggio sandwich I’ve ever had.
One could write a mini-series on the Sicilian food alone. But for the sake of brevity, my experience will sadly have to be reduced to a mere few sentences. Eager as I was to try Sicilian food, boldly advertised at most Taormina restaurants, I was blindsided by how much I was already acquainted with it. Eggplant parmigiana, spaghetti alla carbonara, cannoli, granita (italian ice), arancini, sicilian pizza--things that I have known all my life to simply be “italian food” are typically Sicilian. A bittersweetness came over me at the very moment--a sublime medley of alien pride and nostalgia--as I empathized with the Sicilians that escaped poverty abroad a century ago only to find that their food would shape so much of what Americans know as generally Italian cuisine. The cannoli were the best I have ever had with a crunchy dough that flaked away at the presence of your breath and a cream so fresh and rich it deserved only to be scooped by fingertip. Da Cristina (our cannoli restaurant of choice) generously garnished theirs with pistachio, sliced almonds, candied orange peels, and confectioner’s sugar. Their arancini were also worth the visit. After a hearty meal there, we relaxed at the foot of the fountain in the piazza del duomo.
BAM BAR--a title that doesn’t suggest the café’s potential--is simply terrific. If you want to experience the delight of a true Sicilian granita, Bam Bar is the way to go. After having a surprisingly bad granita in Catania, I was relieved to find this little gem tucked away in one of Taormina’s side streets. Every flavor is made with fresh fruit, as it should be, and topped with a perfectly dense yet fluffy panna montata. To my surprise, their granita di fragola tastes just like Giò’s. I guess it’s the second best that’s out there. Since Giò is used to not being able to find Granita even on the mainland, his instinct is to have as much as he can in Sicily. Things have changed now and you can even find good granita in New York, but we still made sure to have at least six granite per day while in Taormina. For anyone looking to try Granita in New York, Grom has got the closest thing to what you can find in Sicily. It is, however, only available in the summer months.
We arrived at Isola Bella by cable car, the most popular of Taormina’s beaches. I can understand why the “Romance Language” came from Italy at the sight of its waters, for one succumbs to its beauty like a stifling hypnosis. As we looked around we saw people so relaxed one would think that their biggest problems lied in wondering where they would find time to buy more coffee tomorrow. We found a private nook tucked away behind several large boulders and had a solitary dip as Isola Bella tends to get crowded. The water was refreshing and crystal clear like a natural spring.
The ancient amphitheater is nicely preserved and definitely worth the visit. It is the second largest in Sicily and thought to be the most dramatically-placed in all of Italy (see photos). Although its placement suggests it is Greek, the Romans are likely to be most credited for its structure, being almost entirely brick. Giò is betting that it’s all Roman. Have you noticed that Giò loves his Romans yet?
Santuario Madonna della Rocca was by far what made the trip to Taormina worth every moment. An impromptu hike (please prepare more than we did for this) offered the most breath-taking views you may ever see. The small chapel is over 1300 feet above sea level and chiseled into the mountain’s rock dating back to the Norman era, but officially restored into a church in the 17th century. After the long hike, it is a lovely respite where one can pray and give thanks for our remarkable place in this universe. Coming back down, we watched the sun set and heard the unrest of Mt. Etna’s volcano erupting in the distance.
Now we travel to the Amalfi Coast with memories of stunning views, houses lodged on the sides of cliffs, steep winding cobblestone streets, and the second best granita in the world.
Now we travel to the Amalfi Coast with memories of stunning views, houses lodged on the sides of cliffs, steep winding cobblestone streets, and the second best granita in the world.