Catania, Sicily: An Endangered Market, Alive and Well.. for Now

The Fontana di Amenano, built by sculptor Tito Angelini in 1867, owes its name to the underground river it takes its water from. The jet that causes the water to cascade is nicknamed "the fountain of the blanket-like water." From here, one descends beyond the veil, down the stairs, into the belly of the Catania fish market.



Old men and young, stand behind make-shift stands in old clothes and rubber boots. The stone street is wet with water and the occasional fish gut. Fish of all kinds are huddled together in blue plastic tubs, wooden crates and buckets, and spread along tables in colorful forms of fishy madness, with the slaughter and sadness of a funeral parlor.

Bright eyes and bloody heads sit beside exquisitely butchered torsos of tuna and swordfish. Tiny schools of fish lay one dimensional on ice, next to neonatal neighbors of baby squid, whitebait and minuscule clams that squirt. Piles of ricci (sea urchin) lay on top of each other looking like spiky black stones, used for  Medieval hand grenades. When opened they display thin channels of briny gonads that we like to slurp up raw with a bit of lemon.

Lampuga is in season—beautiful grey and yellow mahi mahi. I can't say that I haven't enjoyed eating them as this week alone I've had them prepared raw with pomegranates, baked with tomato, red onion and capers, and pan fried with breadcrumbs.

Yet, I can't help feeling that we are raping the sea of its bounty and delicate balance. To think this happens nearly every day is astounding. Yet, it seems the Sicilians are partial to fish. It can be economical, throwing nothing away. One uses the bones and head with fleshy cheeks for broth.

We could tell the real fishermen from the ones who were not, as they only had their small catch of the day. They were few and looked hungrier. Their dialect strong and their faces, ruddy and weary.

And you may ask yourself... so why does she write about it so poetically?

The last time I was there, the tables were wooden. Now the EU demands stainless steel. The old, the new. Who will remain? The fishermen who fish? Or the fishermen who buy from other fishermen?
Or will there fish to fish? 

At least one thing is for sure, there will always be fish-kisses..

Sicily: Beach Club Bingo

Twenty minutes from downtown Modica is a golden beach with sand as fine as flour.

The Mediterranean sea lapped warm and shallow close to the boardwalk where I was met with open arms by my old friend, Innocenzo Pluchino, entrepreneur and chocolatier, who was once just a curious young Sicilian who loved to travel.

Now, he is a successful young man, who takes a keen interest in creating quality products and experiences. His Beach Club is a white washed building with an open porch with simple tables,  not unlike some of my favorite places on Bar Harbor Island in the Bahamas, or Barbados in the Caribbean.  There were no dunes on the beach, just a flat horseshoe bay that reflected blue sky and a tourmaline sea.

Francesco, my gypsy driver, stripped down to his speedo before leaving the bus, walked through the Beach Club and out the back door to the sea like he owned the place. He stuck his cigarettes in the sand and took a dive. Merete and I fell into the sea like a baptismal. We lolled for the longest time in what seriously felt like salted bathwater.  The Sicilian sun is strong. A rest under the umbrella brought a nice reprieve.

Innoncenzo invited us in for lunch.  I had asked only for a taste of a few small plates. They started arriving with poetic names like, Involtino di pesce spada in sfoglia di melanzana con cuore di ricotta all menta. "Sword fish rolled with a leaf of fried eggplant stuffed with ricotta and mint."

Tuna tartar with specks of orange zest.

Two types of spaghettini—one with ricci, sea urchin, and tomato.

The other with clams, green lemon from Siracusa, and whipped ground toasted almonds.

The taste of the sea was in our mouths, in our vision and under our nose. Tasca d'Almerita's "Leone" vino bianco was the perfect date—a chardonnay and Insolia blend—it gave a bright fruit forwardness to dance in tandem with fellow Sicilian flavors.

I was really impressed by the Beach Club. The chef is young and passionate, previously a pastry chef by trade and by family. Innocenzo recognized this passion and put him to work. You could feel his heart in the food.

I can recognize a certain note of happiness in myself when the stars line up around people, place and taste and today hit a high note. Bingo. An unexpected aria. The day was splendid—and free.

* Photos by Merete Mueller

Recipe: Pesce Mediterraneo

> 1 lb of fresh white fish

> 1 cup cherry tomatoes

> 1/2 cup black olives

> 2 cloves of garlic, smashed and sliced

> 1 bunch of fresh basil leaves

> extra virgin olive oil

> a splash of white wine

> salt and pepper to taste (remember the olives)

or: use a bit of crushed red pepperoncino for pizzazz!

Rinse the fish and set aside. Chop cherry tomatoes in half. ‘Mise en place’ the  e.v.o.oil, olives, garlic, tomatoes, basil and fish.

Choose appropriate frying pan. Add olive oil, garlic and tomatoes. Toss around

in the pan for 5 minutes. Add olives and basil. Let simmer for another 5 minutes.

Add fish on top of the sauce. .Salt and pepper the fish…or pop it with the pepperoncino. Splash the pan with the white wine. Cook on low-medium heat. Put on a lid and let it steam for 5 minutes.

Check your fish for doneness, but touching it. If it springs back, it should be done, along with an aroma of cooked fish. Flip the fish if needed, otherwise,

turn off the heat and let it steam for another few minutes. Check for flavor

balance, adding another pinch of salt if needed.

Serve the fish by spooning the sauce over it. Add a fresh leaf of basil for garnish.

Ventotene... No wind? I dare say, it's where the wind comes from.

Our first morning sail took us around to the south side of Procida, to see the panoramic pastel houses that grace the island, all bunched together like a bee colony.

Historically, the various house colors had a purpose. A sailor could spot his house from afar and see if his wife was waiting for him in the window.

Sunny with a bit of good wind, we calculated our sail to Ventotene, 16k away at 8-9 knots, to take 4 hours. Tony Tony, our captain, has a keen sense to head straight to where the wind is. An avid sailor, he rides the waves like captain Ahab rode his great white whale.

We are not talking huge ocean waves—but the Mediterranean can kick up some activity. The adventurous part of my culinary program is often accented with a few unexpected edgy experiences that keep our name valid. This undoubtedly puts a smile on some faces and a look of surprise on others.

Guazetto: A Saucy, Stewy Way to Serve Fish

Angelo Cabani is a mentor of mine. A spectacular chef, with big eyes, a big mustache, and a huge appetite for fine and tasty fish.

His restaurant, Locanda Miranda, is located in what he likes to call his "gastronomic hotel" by the sea. It is perched above the Bay of Poets in the pastel village of Tellaro, ancestral home of his family since the 13th century.

This Ligurian coastal settlement has seen it's share of marauders since the days of the Saracens. 

According to local legend, the watchman fell asleep and the rope to the bell tower fell into the sea. An octopus from the rocky shore below got entwined in the rope and trying to break free, woke up the town with his continual clanging. As luck would have it, the town awoke, expecting an attack just as a ship of Saracens were preparing to ascend. Lets just say that a lot of hot boiling oil was used and the village was saved...by an octopus! Angelo doesn't often use frutti di mare, but prefers deeper ocean fish, scampi and smaller fishes that swim around the rocks.

He cooks with traditional recipes and ingredients, but steps it up a notch. "People don't go out to eat what they can get at home," says Angelo. His challenge is to make it interesting.

Zuppa di Pesce Panaresca

Zuppa di Pesce? si..but also Risotto Pescatore


Inside our sailboat the 'Swamy', cooking on a gimbled stove.
photos by: Hank Strauss


Zuppa di Pesce Panaresca
(Fish soup from the Aeolian Island of Panarea)

1 kilo of fresh prawns
3 fresh squid
1/2 kilo of vongole verace (clams)
2 red mullet
 a few cherry tomatoes
1 can of cherry tomatoes, peeled
olive oil
4 cloves of garlic, chopped
white wine
a bunch of parsley, chopped fine
salt to taste
pepperoncino (cayenne) a dash to taste

Peel the prawns, separating prawn from shell. Set the prawns aside. Bring a pot of water to a simmer and drop in prawn shells.

Clean and cut the heads off the mullet. Fillet the fish, cut into 2 to 3 pieces and set aside. Add heads and bones to the broth.

Rinse and tap the clams (looking for a "flat" sound that may indicate a shell without a clam but full of sand). Set aside.

Clean the squid by taking out what’s inside the tube. Peel off the thin outer layer. Slice into rings. Set aside.

Peel and flatten garlic. Rinse and dry. Chop parsley fine. Set aside. Quarter the cherry tomatoes and set aside.

Now you have your mise en place.

Put a generous drizzle of olive oil in the bottom of a large sauté pan. Add chopped garlic and simmer until barely golden. Add pepperoncino, half the parsley and the tomatoes. Stir until saucy. Salt and pepper. Strain and add the broth.

Heat a separate pot. Add some olive oil and a little garlic. Add the clams. Toss them in the hot pan, splash them with white wine and cover the pot with a lid. Steam for 3 minutes, or until the clams open and give up their liquid. Add to the pot. (Be careful not to let any possible residual sand from the pot liquor to slide in.)

Season prawns (or shrimp) and squid with a quick toss in a frying pan, with olive oil, parsley and salt. Set aside. Add to the pot. I like to season things separately before adding the pot, it deepens the flavor. Otherwise, you could just skip this.

Correct salt and pepper . Add the rest of the fish and fish broth if you have some leftover. Let it simmer to marry, but not so long to overcook the seafood.

Garnish with parsley. Serve with garlic toasts. Should be flavorful and spicy.

P.S. Broth can be used for making Risotto, shrimp and squid can be cooked right into the rice.
Scampi in the shell, clams, etc. can be added on top of the risotto before serving.

Learn more about our week-long culinary sailing program along Italy's Amalfi coast. 

Moroccan Fish Pastilla Recipe

Guided by master chef Bahija, we learned to make a traditional Moroccan chicken pastilla during the 2010 trip to Morocco.


Ready with our assortment of spices


Adding saffron to the chicken.



Bahija crushes almonds for the chicken pastilla by hand, a method she
laughingly refers to as the "Berber food processor."

By popular request, the recipe for a fish and seafood version of the pastilla follows. Enjoy!
FISH PASTILLA (Pastille au Poisson)
The below recipe uses filo dough to form the crust of the pastilla. Traditionally, Moroccan pastilla is made with warka, a slightly less-flaky, more malleable pastry sheet. In the United States, warka can be found in many Middle Eastern groceries, but filo dough also makes a suitable substitution.
>> 1 pound of filo dough
>> 5 T melted butter
>> 2 egg yolks
>> 14 oz white fish, cut in pieces
>> 14 oz. shrimp
>> 14 oz squid
>> 2 diced onions
>> 4 cloves garlic
>> 2 Tablespoons parsley
>> 5 oz. vermicelli

>> 1 teaspoon cumin
>> 1 teaspoon paprika
>> 1/2 teaspoon salt and pepper
>> 1 teaspoon saffron
>> 1 teaspoon harrissa (spicy tomato paste)
>> 1 preserved lemon, quartered and pulped
>> juice of one lemon
>> butter


Sauté fish in a skillet with 1 teaspoon of butter for 5 minutes. Add salt and pepper.
Sauté shrimp for 5 minutes, separately, add salt and pepper. Sauté squid with salt and 1teaspoon harissa.

Sauté onion in a little butter until translucent.

Soften vermicelli in hot water, drain and set aside.

Melt a little more butter and add half the of the fish (you will save the other half) to the pan, together with all of the shrimp and squid. Add parsley, vermicelli, garlic, cumin, paprika, preserved lemon, lemon juice, saffron, salt and pepper. Mix and simmer in the pan for 10 minutes (or a bit longer if necessary, to ensure that the vermicelli is cooked.)

Butter pan for the pastilla.

Place 5 leaves of filo around in a fan, starting from the center (like we did in class with the warka) and brush with butter. Add one more in the center and brush again with melter butter.

Add filling, spreading evenly. Add the fish pieces that you saved and place them around the top of the filling. Brush outer leaves with butter and beaten egg. Fold the leaves of filo over the filling, trying to keep it round. Brush again with butter. Add one or two sheets of filo on top. Tuck in well. Brush again with butter and remaining egg yolk.
Cook at 400 degrees F. for 20 minutes or until golden. Decorate with lemon slices and cilantro. Slice into wedges like a pie. Serve hot!