Food. What Else?

There isn’t much that people care more about than food. It helps define them and is filled with significance, for family and the memories of childhood and of good times with friends. To an outsider, of course, people’s attachment to a particular food can seem puzzling. We stopped by a grocer and butcher on the way to Etna to pick up some outstanding sandwiches. While we were waiting, the butcher insisted on sharing one of his (and the region’s) specialities.
Outside on the sidewalk, a fire continuously simmered the pork for frittole (pronounced like the snack food brand).
To us, it would best be described as a pork fat sandwich.
Or, a great moment with our guide Davide and a welcoming butcher. In fact, throughout Sicily, we found people to be – with few exceptions – very open and warm. It was not unusual for someone to go out of his or her way to be helpful and friendly.
A note on street food: Yes, glorious street food. That’s what frittole is and Sicily has plenty of it. Some other ones we tried were arancina (filled and fried rice balls), panelle (chickpea fritters), crocché (potato croquets) and gelato con brioche (see below). We didn’t try the spleen sandwiches, thanks just the same!
One of our most memorable meals was in Selinunte, at a place called Boomerang (for some obscure reason).
Sorry for the half-eaten plate. We decided a little late to document the meal.
It’s a place with a fixed menu. Everyone gets the same thing, whatever the owner brought in that day on his fishing boat
The fish just kept coming, with a quick identification.
All of it was perfectly prepared and delicious,
As were the very good cannoli that topped it off. [Our all time favorite cannoli (after substantial sampling across Sicily) remain the ones from Cipolli Cannoli in Collingswood, NJ, where the cannoli kits are created fresh before your eyes in their tiny operation.]
Of course, cannoli aren’t the only canonical sweet treat in Sicily. The thing to eat in Palermo is gelato on a brioche. But, gelato all over Sicily is hard to beat, and we seldom resisted.
The gelato in Valletta on Malta (spoiler alert) may be more artistically refined, but the quality in Sicily is unsurpassed.

Etna, Alcantara, & the Vendicari Nature Reserve

Mount Etna in some senses helps to define Sicily. It dominates the landscape over a vast terrain. It doesn’t have that iconic volcano profile like Mount Fuji, but has currently six active volcanic craters within it and a range of other craters and vents over a substantial area.
It has frequent eruptions and flows of lava, although they are much slower moving than some other volcanos so that it is a less dangerous volcano than many. Here is an area of lava flow from 2002. The depth of the lava at this point is about 10 to 15 meters. What looks like snow stakes are, in fact, snow stakes. There is a ski resort nearby. It was destroyed by the lava flow and has been rebuilt.
As can be seen in the middle distance, lava will flow around higher terrain, leaving swaths of untouched land. Of course, the edges of the untouched land are scorched by the tremendous heat causing vegetation to die off.
There are different kinds of tubes within lava. Here’s one that was formed by a tree trunk.
Two older, dormant craters are in the distance.
The “ash” put out by a volcano consists of various sizes, weights and densities of material, ranging from dust to “lava bombs” (near right) that make quite a dent when they land.
As we descended to a lower altitude, the vegetation changed from pines to birch and broom (the Italian term meaning “rock breaker”). The birch is a species unique to the Etna area. It was nice to have a former Park Ranger as our guide for a better understanding of what we were seeing.
Donning helmets to explore a lava tube turned out to be a good idea.
The tubes were formed when a hotter stream of lava flowed through lava starting to cool.
The particular tube we explored was used to store snow over the summer and the steps were carved into the lava to make this easier in the 1770s.
Not far from Etna is a river gorge famous for rafting. Our guide had found a remote spot that offered a quiet way to enjoy the Alcantara Gorge.
The bored hole appears to be a post hole for a bridge from Ottoman times.
In winter, the gorge is full to the brim with its swift flowing river. If the day was any warmer, we would have stopped to go in the water.
Back in Taormina, taking the cable car down to the beach, Ken took advantage of the Mediterranean.
With a farewell to Taormina, we headed down the coast
To Vendicari Nature Preserve
For a walk
A chance to admire herons and flamingos and some spoonbills scurrying through the water chasing their lunch
And our own downtime on the beach.

The Greek and Roman Worlds (and More) in Sicily

Greek civilization was a culture, not a geography, and Sicily was where much of that culture was found, although the Greeks typically displaced non-Greek people who were already there. Today, there is a lot to see that has been unearthed from those times and from when Sicily was the granary of the Roman Empire, as well as a tremendous wealth of architecture from medieval times.
SEGESTA
Here’s an amphitheater in Segesta, originally a city founded by the non-Greek Elymian people but taken over by Greeks. We enjoyed the impromptu serenade by a group of school children.
And, the temple was just down the hill, actually really far down the hill. We gave ourselves the luxury of taking the shuttle bus up the hill and then down again. (This photo was taken with our biggest telephoto lens.)
Yes, indeed, those ancient Mediterranean civilizations tended to build in the most inaccessible locations. They were generally well out of harms way on the top of mountains so as to defend from attack. Those were tough times! Fortunately, we can now take things like cable cars to make the climb less arduous. This one goes from the resort town of Trapani up to the town of Erice. The watery fields by the sea are for processing sea salt.
ERICE
One amazing place after another.
This Norman Castle was built on the location of the Temple of Venus reputedly founded by Aeneas and where animals simply walked up to be sacrificed. (That last one may be a stretch.)
This 3rd to 4th century BC wall at the Temple of Venus site is said by tradition to have been built by Dedalus, the builder of the labyrinth on Crete to contain the Minotaur. We’re not sure how to fact check that one either.
Founded by the Elymians, then settled by the Phoenicians and then the Greeks, Erice is now mostly a Medieval town. It also has a little pastry shop the B&B owner from Palermo sent us to where they make a Genovese filled with creme fraisch after a recipe from the nuns and only sold there. It was worth the search. Delicious.
SELINUNTE
This is the largest archeological site in Europe. Selinunte was a Greek colony founded in the late 7th century BC according to Thucydides.
What’s remarkable are the piles upon piles – vast areas – of what looks like rubble and is what has been unearthed in recent centuries, only for archeologists to work out what it was and to reassemble portions of it for us to admire and wonder at the scope and scale of the structures that once stood on the landscape and formed cities for these peoples to live in.
Selinunte had been a relatively large city of about 30,000 free people, plus slaves. There were five temples centered on an Acropolis.
They were in constant conflict with the Elymians of Segesta until Selinunte was sacked by Carthage in the 4th century BC when they didn’t choose sides wisely.
And, never regained their stature or strength.
 
AGRIGENTO
Agrigento was another large Greek city of around 100,000 to 200,000 people founded in 580 BC that tried to stay out of the conflict between Athens and Syracuse. However, they didn’t avoid sack by Carthage in 406 BC or getting the worst of it when Carthage and Rome went at it in the First Punic War when Rome enslaved all the inhabitants around 260 BC. (Then, back to Carthage, then Rome, until their citizens were given Roman citizenship after the death of Julius Caesar in 44 BC. Phew, too much history!)
The reassembled temples were truly monumental.
And, again, the piles of rubble spoke to the archeological work still to be done.
Meanwhile, in the Archeological Museum in Agrigento there is an impressive collection of artifact with ample English language signage. Here’s a 7th Century BC ceramic piece notable for both for being in a style established on Rhodes and for the central motif. It’s the triquetra or triskeles, a symbol evoking Sicily because the island is essentially triangular in shape with three substantial capes.
A few segments of one of these enormous human figures is laying on the ground at the archeological park, difficult to decipher in the field.
With an imposing head.
All of which becomes a lot clearer when you see the model helpfully provided by the museum.
 
PIAZZA ARMERINA
Fast forward to the Middle Ages. 11th Century. There are a lot of medieval towns in Sicily, most of them with a certain charm, after you navigate impossible roads and wait for the sheep to be safely crossed by the very alert and attentive sheepdogs. This little cathedral was the reward as seen from the balcony to our room on the cathedral square.
Down here someplace was the restaurant people liked on TripAdvisor.
A terrific place for an overnight and an early start the next day.
 
VILLA ROMANA DEL CASALE
 
Nothing quite prepares you for the Villa Romana del Casale. Thanks to a mudslide long ago, the villa of a very important Roman figure has been remarkably well preserved. It’s what Vesuvius did for Pompeii, but Pompeii was a city with ordinary people and a few wealthy ones. The villa exudes power and position. We don’t know who owned it, but this appears to be the reception room where he received people when exercising that power.
The courtyard is imposing.
But, it’s the mosaics,
The mosaics on every theme
Decorating every room that most impress.
This one of women athletes being rewarded for their prowess is very unique and popular.
The subject matters go on and on.
Even the utilitarian servant’s areas are decorated, although “only” in beautiful geometric patterns.
In large rooms and small.
Then there is what is beneath. Here are the works for the heated baths.
And, finally, a nicely decorated lavatory for the master’s family.
 
SYRACUSE
Cicero referred to Syracuse as the greatest and most beautiful of the Greek cities. It was certainly one of the most powerful cities of the Mediterranean world, along with Athens and Carthage, and was the equal of Athens in size. It was the home of Archimedes.
Its amphitheater was not built into a hillside, but carved, and would allow 16,000 people to enjoy performances. It’s where Aeschylus sat to enjoy the last of his plays.
Dionysius kept prisoners here in a cave now known as the “Dionysius Nose” where he could eavesdrop on their conversations through a small opening at the top.
When the Romans took over, they constructed an arena for their entertainment.
When Christians came to power and wanted a cathedral, it was natural to simply take over a temple and remodel it to current standards. (Notice the columns)
Inside.
And out. Actually, having visited countless cathedrals over the years, the Syracuse cathedral is now our favorite for its intimacy, beauty and human warmth. We respected the “no photos” admonition in the most beautiful side chapel. Notice the Virgin Mary in the center looking over the plaza, placed where Athena stood when it was her temple. We also enjoyed the atmosphere of the old part of the city and the wonderful gelato just across from the cathedral.
 
TAORMINA
 
The entrance to our hotel in Taormina gives some idea of where the town is situated – the town, that is. Of course, our hotel was also a challenge. We asked the hotel staff to drive the car back up the ramp when we departed.
At least we didn’t have a big climb to get to the ruins. Not only is the Taormina amphitheater the second largest in Sicily (after Syracuse), performances still take place there. You may remember that they recently hosted the G7, although that must have been a logistical and transportation nightmare.
It is, however, a beautiful view.
And a charming, although really expensive, town.

With a rather quirky cathedral square.

 

Palermo. Welcome to Sicily.

For a city that’s 2700 years old, any beginning seems arbitrary. So we begin with a less popular site, one that goes unmentioned in the leading guidebook for Sicily. Zisa Castle or el Aziz, was a summer hunting retreat built in the 12th century by the Norman kings.
Begun by William I and completed by his son William II, it had fountains in the main hall on the ground floor as well as in the castle gardens and was fashioned by Arab artisans.

The restoration reveals original details and surviving caches of amphorae, but the comparatively minor status of the site made it rather difficult to find the entrance, as we wandered the neighborhood.

We dropped by the archeology museum to be reminded just how deep history goes here, from Neolithic times to the Mycenaeans to the Greeks, Romans, Arabs, Normans, and so forth. Legend has it that this is where the refugees from Troy came. Here we have a tomb from 3000 BC.
A nice slipper shaped bath tub.
Poor old Actaeon being torn apart by dogs for having seen Artemis, the goddess of hunting, naked (450 BC).
And a procession of Amazons on a sarcophagus (170 AD).

 

The al-Qasr (now the Royal Palace or Palace of the Normans) was started by the Emir of Palermo in the 9th century. It was then enlarged and transformed by the Norman Kings following their conquest of Sicily in 1072.
Most of the interior of the Royal Palace was completed by Roger II, the father of William I. This room is known as the Roger II Hall.

 

The Royal Palace is the oldest royal palace in Europe. The Swabian emperors continued to use the palace, although it was only an administrative palace under the Angevin and Aragonese Kings until it became once again a royal residence under the Bourbon royal family when Leopold of Bourbon commissioned this Pompeian room.
The most sublime achievement of King Roger II was the Palatine Chapel built in 1132 on the second floor of the Royal Palace. The mosaics are so stunning, we forget to look down.
The chapel combines Byzantine, Latin, and Islamic styles in a way peculiar to Sicily.
Arab craftsmen built a wooden ceiling typical of Arab architecture, a muqarnas ceiling.
There is a Christ Pantocrator in both the dome and central apse.

With biblical stories arrayed on the walls and ceiling in gold mosaic, the effect is a magnificent space that is still used today. In fact, we carefully planned our visit to avoid a closure due to a wedding. And, yes, we did catch a glimpse of the bride.

It’s said that Pope Gregory I founded a Byzantine church here in the 6th Century. Now known as the Cathederal of Palermo. When the Saracens took over in the 9th century it became a mosque until the cathedral was founded around 1185 in the reign of William I.
The crypt contains tombs and sarcophagae from Roman, Byzantine, and Norman times. The oldest we noticed was from the 11th century.
The highlight was the roof.
It’s good Jim didn’t realize that the access consists of a narrow, two-way walkway on the crest of the roof.
The views are, however, spectacular.
From high above the city, we go deep beneath another neighborhood to the Capuchin Catacombs where the monks and many, many, many other people were from the 18th through the early years of the 20th centuries propped up and even posed as a celebration of death.
Not particularly our cup of tea, although our B&B hostess has taken her 3 year old daughter there a half dozen times and finds it inspiring. It was hard to relate to that. (No photos allowed, these are courtesy of the tourist brochure)
We preferred the market.
Wherever we go, they’re hard to resist.
They are full of interesting people.
And inspiring food.
Teatro Massimo was conceived as a way to promote Palermo as the second largest city in southern Italy just after the unification of Italy in 1861. It was finally completed in 1897.
With a reputation for perfect acoustics, it’s the third largest opera house in Europe (after Paris and Vienna).
We understand it’s also renowned for a dramatic death on the front steps in the third Godfather movie.
But, there’s much more about Palermo to recommend it.
From quirky fountains.
To a weekend street scene packed with people of all ages out walking and enjoying their city.
Just outside the city perched in the hills is the small town of Monreale where the Bishop of Palermo fled upon the 9th century takeover of Palermo by the Arabs. Following the Norman return of the island to Christianity, Monreale remained important and William II started construction on a cathedral in 1174 and the pope designated it as a metropolitan cathedral in 1182.
The interior is, like the Palatine Chapel, entirely decorated with exquisite mosaics, one layer featuring stories from the Old Testament and the other featuring stories from the New Testament.
The effect is dazzling.
Adjoining the cathedral is the cloisters, built in 1200 as part of the Abbey. There are 108 pairs of marble columns, each with both a unique mosaic decoration and a unique floral capital.
 

 

The Big Easy. Easy to Love.

Not far from the street musicians in front of the Cathedral (well, everywhere, really),
there are the lush streets that are never entirely emptied with their posh shops and galleries,
and then the other Vieux Carre, or French Quarter that
offers surprising oases of calm that seem far away from the brash chaos of the lower reaches of Bourbon Street. That was our retreat, just across the street from the French Quarter on the edge of one of the oldest black neighborhoods in America, the Treme, where from time to time we could hear snatches of music from a Second Line drifting through the neighborhood.
Even the neighborhoods for the dead are interesting in New Orleans, and are, of course, where the idea of the Second Line originated – the joyous music leaving the cemetery. Now, people hire a Second Line to celebrate almost anything.
Lafayette Cemetery #1 in the Garden District houses the remains of the Americans (who pushed their way into New Orleans after the Louisiana Purchase) and is, of course, an active cemetery. It’s the second oldest “garden cemetery” in the country (the oldest being Mount Auburn outside of Boston), although it’s difficult to fit in much garden when burial is almost always above ground (due, among other reasons, to the high water table). Our guide Naïf explained how hundreds of people can be entombed in the above ground vaults (hint: not a lot of embalming fluid). For much of the city’s history, it seems like burial practices were one of the few things on which the Americans and the Creoles (pre-Louisiana Purchase inhabitants who were born in America, irrespective of race or origin). They lived in separate neighborhoods with Canal Street as their DMZ. The Cajuns are, of course, the descendents of the Acadians who, during the French and Indian War, were expelled from Atlantic Canada as a security threat. You might recall our posting from Cape Breton in 2014 in which we quoted the opening lines of Longfellow’s Evangeline, his lament of the human suffering from Le Grand Derangement (“This is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks . . ..”). The Cajuns now live all over southern Louisiana and keep a lot of their culture alive.
In addition to family vaults, people also bought into burial societies through which families purchased perpetual rights to each of the mini-vaults, above. As always, people looked for a way to belong.
The same practices apply in above ground, in ground, burial. Pillows for the remains of those making way for the newcomers, but at least they get to stay.
Of course, there was some stubborn New Englander who decided he had to have a New England cemetery plot in the middle of New Orleans. Shh, we’re just from out of town. If we make it back to New Orleans, maybe we’ll visit St. Louis Cemetery #1. That’s the even older one in the French Quarter where Nicholas Cage has purchased a plot and built a pyramid for himself.
Back among the living in the Garden District, we discovered why it is so popular with celebrities.
Here’s one Nicholas Cage owned for a while because of its reputation for being haunted.
But, there are better reasons for living here. Gorgeous houses.
Your intrepid photographer naturally failed to snap the required photos to show where Sandra Bullock or John Goodman lives, although we learned that Goodman is a friendly guy who waves to people when he picks up his newspaper (no surprise, really)
What!? How can we go on about cemeteries and Nicholas Cage, ignoring the red hot reason people go to New Orleans in the first place? It’s bands like the up-and-coming Brass-a-holics. Jim and Ken had seen the Rebirth Brass Band down in D.C., so it was time for something different. These guys offered up a sort of fusion brass band sound, mixing in everything from traditional sounds to hip hop, heavy on the electronics. They were great.
A couple of doors away at Bamboulas on Frenchmen Street the Sunshine Brass Band were playing a much more traditional sound and standards. Good listening.
There was a really well attended free concert at the cathedral featuring Sunpie, the zydeco musician. Unfortunately, the acoustics were terrible and the Christmas concert was so entirely down tempo that we moved on to see what was happening in the Quarter.
For a line like this, you know it’s Preservation Hall.
It’s a substantial wait, a tiny room and we ended up in standing room, but it’s also a stellar performance, as they have a stable of the best musicians in town (in a town where music is the life blood). Worth the journey.
Back on Frenchmen Street, we caught blues man Walter (“Wolfman”) Washington and the Roadmasters.
His friend Rooster of Rooster and the Chickenhawks ventured over from Bourbon Street for a couple of numbers. Loved it.
Grammy winner John Cleary (best regional roots album) is a kind of swamp music Elton John, stomping along with a really playful style. Really enjoyed him. Oddly enough, he’s originally from England, but discovered where he’s supposed to be.
We wandered into Vaso in between our planned visits to the d.b.a. to see Cleary and the 10:00 show. Ed Wills and Blues4Sale was a real treat with a great voice and guitar style for a classic blues delivery.
Then, back for the 10:00 show with the Luke Winslow-King Trio. Like a lot of the bands, hard to pigeonhole, but Ken bought one of their albums on our way out.
With no photo to show for it, our very first outing was to the Column Hotel in the Garden District to catch David Doucet, the legendary Cajun musician of Beausoleil fame. Despite starting the gig about 45 minutes later than advertised, he was, well, David Doucet and well worth the listen. After that, we started taking the camera. Lots of music for a 4 day visit.
And, what visit to New Orleans would be complete without a visit to the bayou?
An airboat is noisy, but it gets you out there quickly and the ear protectors are pretty effective.
It was too cold for the gators and when we got up to speed we understood why the guide wore a parka.
But, it was fun to explore and see things like the cedar knees that help the tree breathe.
One evening we went over to Lafayette Square for the Luna Fete, a visual arts festival with vendors. The light show was first rate, as the old bank’s facade was continuously transformed, with the illusion of action taking place behind the columns and of the entire building pulsing with breath.
One artist came with a trailer for projecting series of images with which you could interact by tweeting your own images into the program.
Ken tweeted the bird (on left)
and the eye graphic (on right).
Colorful lasers lay over top
helping to link the installations together
for a luminous experience.
Young Life (1994).
Ken was familiar with Bo Bartlett, whose Young Life hangs prominently in the entry to the Ogden Museum of Southern Art. He included a small insect and dandelion seed under the paint and a deer tail in the frame. Andrew Wyeth was a mentor early in his career.
The Rookery (2007).
This painting is enormous and completely immersive. It’s creator, Simon Gunning, was on his way from Australia to England to go to art school in the 1970s when he stopped by New Orleans.
Crossroads (2013).
He was so captivated by the city and southern Louisiana that he returned in 1981 to make it his home.
The Canal in Lavender and Blue #2 (2015).
In addition to its substantial holdings, the Ogden had a special exhibit of Gunning’s landscapes, each one captivating.
Mourners (1962).
The big break for Georgia painter Benny Andrews came when he could study art at the Art Institute in Chicago under the GI bill.
Death of the Crow (1965).
Teacher (1965).
He also became well known for his pioneering work in art programs in prisons. It was interesting that most of these artists spent time at the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts, where Amanda took a course in drawing.
World of the Happy and the Free (1986).
The Rev. Howard Finster was a self-taught Visionary artist who began creating art after God appeared to him on his thumb and said, “Make sacred art.”
Man of Vision (1981).
One of the things that makes Visionary art interesting, as well as Outsider art and other ways we choose to think of art made by self-taught artists, is that it isn’t part of the dialogue that naturally occurs within the realm of contemporary artists conscious of what has come before them.
Elvis at 3 (1984).
There is a wonderful intensity to it that is at once bewildering and fascinating.
Mississippi (no date).
Will Henry Stevens grew up in Indiana, but studied and worked in Ohio, New York, and Kentucky before winding up teaching at Newcomb College in New Orleans from 1921 through 1948.
Untitled (1945).
He was a naturalist, mainly drawing and painting in the outdoors, and so adapted his media away from studio easel painting, including developing his own pastels (having the benefit of growing up with a chemist father).
Untitled (no date).
He was interested in the Sung painting of the 12th century, in particular because of its philosophy of the artist as an extension of nature.
Pyramid (1995).
Over at the New Orleans Museum of Art we wanted to catch the special show featuring George Dunbar, New Orleans born and bred (art school at the Tyler School in Philadelphia), and his massive highly structured pieces. Being a land developer as a second day job, Dunbar is fascinated with land forms, bridges, canals and the like.
Marsh grass XXVI (2007).
Exploring the tension between order and chaos, Dunbar buried coils of red canvas in brown clay with red gold overlaid and then filed patterns into the surface to expose some of the underlying material.
Coin du Lestin XXXVI (1997).
In this earlier work Dunbar had also created a base of clay overlaid with gold that has been incised or filed off.
Glad to be outside again, we wandered the Sculpture Garden at the NOMA
We Stand Together (2005).
George Rodrigue’s iconic Blue Dog image is also found in a gallery on Royal Street (as well as galleries in Lafayette, LA, and Carmel, CA). That dog sure showed up in a lot of ways. He is, of course, a native son.
Back downtown, close to the cathedral, we visited the Cabildo, the old seat of the colonial government and now a state historical museum. Among its holdings is this death mask of Napoleon, the man who wheedled the former French possessions out of the Spanish with a promise to not sell them to the Americans and who, naturally, turned around and cut the famous deal with Jefferson.
In a private antiques gallery nearby we found the desk at which Napoleon wrote his memoirs while imprisoned on St. Helena (and that’s his footbath). It seems conditions weren’t overly harsh for him.
Back at the Cabildo, Jim was tempted by new career options,
while Ken wasn’t sure that was such a good idea.
We think of New Orleans as a city built by the French and Spanish, but in reality there was also very significant immigration from Germany (which is easy to see in the cemeteries). Much to our surprise, it was the German immigrants who introduced the accordion to the culture, providing some vindication for Jim’s side of the family.
The museum at the Cabildo provides a very clear-eyed overview of the history of Louisiana, including the successful effort to overturn Reconstruction and reestablish white rule after the Civil War. Artifacts like a New Orleans slave auction block from around 1850 make it tangible and remind us that all of this occurred not long ago. Jim, for example, remembers his great grandfather Billy who, as a young boy, hid under the porch as Confederate troops made their way to Gettysburg.
It was, however, the World War II museum that was the big surprise of our visit to New Orleans. We are all quite well versed in that war, thank you. But, everywhere we turned we were advised by locals that it was an outstanding museum, that everyone raved about it, that it is consistently rated as one of the best museums in the world, and that at least 4 to 6 hours are needed for a visit, if not more. They were right.
The exhibit spaces are filled with documentary footage on the walls, compelling and carefully explained artifacts, oral history recordings running continuously as you move through the spaces, and fascinating detail on all of the more minor missions, engagements and battles you actually haven’t learned about before.
It’s a museum experience taken to new heights (actually, Jim had a tough time on the catwalk way up here!).
Finally, you can’t think of New Orleans without thinking about food. Wonderful food. Muffuletta. Po-boys. Jambalaya. Gumbo. Sausages. Lots of pork. Here, Amanda enjoys a beignet at the Cafe du Monde. From very upscale eateries to absolute dives there are plenty of great places to grab a delicious bite to eat, including delis with smokers in the back. People are proud of their food heritage and, don’t forget, if there’s tomatoes in there it’s not Cajun, it’s Creole.
There you have it. Four days. The Big Easy. Hard to forget.

San Sebastián. Life is good, and the food even better.

Here, twelve miles from the French border, you are in the real heart of Basque Country, and it is entrancing.

People have been living in the area for around 25,000 years and the city was chartered in the 12th century, but a catastrophic fire following the breach of the town’s walls and the fall of the city in 1813 to an Anglo-Portuguese force has given it a 19th century look.

It’s a town that makes its living largely from tourism and international festivals and as a cultural magnet for the people of the region. Tourism improved dramatically when separatist violence from the ETA ended.

Where it’s easy to kick off your shoes and enjoy yourself, even on an overcast day in late October.

A stroll along either side of the river

Or in the old city

Will bring you to places like Constitution Square (where the numbers over the apartment doors harken back to when owners were forced to rent balcony space to their betters to watch the bullfights in the square)

Or a sunset over the Atlantic.

But, what has really put San Sebastián (Donostia, in Basque) on the map is food.

In what turned out to be a stroke of genius, we hired a guide to take us around to a few bars in the city for pintxos. Although we could have survived with a bit of pointing and taken advantage of the reasonable amount of English and the substantial amount of friendliness found in the Donostiarra who live here, our guide enriched our experience immeasurably.

Donostia is a city obsessed with food and gastronomy. Especially on Thursdays, people go out with friends and family to a series of bars offering both cold and hot pintxos. They order a couple, together with a drink they never finish, enjoy them and move on to the next establishment. People almost always stand, as this is a snack, not a meal. Kids are typically in tow.

Our first pintxo was a Gilda. Olives (yes, but only-available-in-Spain really good ones), anchovies (a revelation), and peppers (one in ten is hot). Eaten in one bite & it was extraordinary. The Gilda was apparently named after Rita Hayworth’s 1946 movie of the same name. Franco banned it. Reason enough.

Within sight of this first pintxo bar were three gastronomical societies, of which the city of barely more than 180,000 people is reported to have around 140. We were told that in their matrilineal society, Basque men value a place of their own, especially one in which they can cook and can claim the kitchen as exclusively theirs. Men may belong to 2 or 3 of the societies, maintaining connections to childhood friends, work colleagues, and so forth. The city has an embarrassment of riches in terms of food. Of Spain’s five restaurants with 3 Michelin stars (the highest rating), three are in San Sebastián. But, back to the food.

At our next stop, we had squid in its own ink, as well as beef cheeks.

One of the pintxos at our third stop was Brie coated in poppy seeds and lightly fried. By the third stop it was raining a bit, so we huddled close under the umbrellas as we stood at the tables, but the eating was enough of a distraction that it really didn’t bother us.

As befits a pilgrimage to San Sebastián, we reported for our course in Basque cooking.

Our instructor Augus (holding the bag) took us through the paces.

Proper cleaning and deboning means you don’t over handle the fish

But carefully remove both the skin and the inner membrane which otherwise will cause the cooked fish to curl.

Oh, and don’t forget the cheek, the real delicacy.

The fish is cooked gently by swirling the pan (for hours, if you don’t know the chef’s shortcut).

The peppers must be correctly sautéed. And, yes, Adrianne from Miami was recording pretty much every technique.

Frank, the Basque-American whose mother witnessed the attack on Guernica, tries his hand at one of the chef’s secrets. Whisking with a colander.

The team begins to assemble one of the dishes.

This one.

Truly delicious.

And reason enough for a visit to Donostia (San Sebastián).

On egin! (Bon appetit!)

 

Being so close . . .

When planning our trip to northern Spain, it occurred to us to wonder how far off the beaten path we would find the famous Paleolithic cave paintings. As it turned out, not far. From Bilbao, we rented another car and headed west towards the mountains, making for Altamira, El Castillo, and La Moneda.
El Castillo (the Castle) and La Moneda (the Money) are minutes away from each other along a mountain path. La Moneda is mostly interesting for its rock formations, but El Castillo contains the oldest known cave art in Europe (at over 40,000 years old). They are discs and stencils of hands made by blowing pigment onto the rock surfaces. There’s also representational art in the cave, although it is a little more recent (but, not much). We were impressed with the skillfulness of the execution and how the artists incorporated the naturally occurring contours of the rock surface into the compositions. The back or stomach or haunch of the animal wouldn’t actually be drawn, for example, but the artist would enhance the animal form one might see in the rock contours by using pigment to fill in the “missing” elements of the design.

The most (justifiably) famous Spanish cave is Altamira. It is open only to a few visitors who are chosen by lottery in order to conserve the artwork. In fact, we met two young men during our visit of El Castillo, one of whom had been fortunate enough to have been chosen to go into the cave. His friend showed us a video showing how visitors are suited up in what look like hazmat suits for their tours. However, a “Neocave” has been built that is a faithful, life-size replica of the cave and the paintings, visits to which are controlled with timed tickets. There’s also a sizable display covering cave art and other early human topics that could take most of a day to thoroughly consume.

Altamira’s art was produced at different eras ranging from 36,000 years ago to 13,000 years ago. It was the areas further into the cave (rather than closer to the entrance) that were used for the paintings. To Jim’s question why the cave walls and ceiling weren’t smudged with soot from the fires or torches used to see inside the caves, the guide at El Castillo explained that animal fats were used for lighting because they burned much cleaner than wood and didn’t produce that kind of smoke. To make the paintings, the artists used charcoal and ochre (iron oxide). They are very cleanly and precisely rendered, so that it’s clear that the painters must have practiced extensively elsewhere before committing their art to the cave walls and ceilings.

Being already in Cantabria, how could we not visit one of the small towns in the hills?
We chose the one Sartre called the prettiest town in Spain in one of his novels (it’s amazing the research promotional people do), Santillana del Mar.
We even managed to have a nice lunch, after once again confirming that we couldn’t find anywhere to eat lunch that opened earlier than 1:00 (we must confess to never fully adapting to Spanish dining hours).
And we visited the town’s Romanesque church and (no longer functioning) monastery before making our way to our house in the countryside.
A house along a lane in a tiny farming village

In the midst of fields with the pungent smells of country life

A house we couldn’t find without first rendezvousing with our host at the bar along the “main” road and following her along a narrow lane to the edge of the village.

Where Amanda put together a meal for us with ingredients purchased in the nearest town, including hake cut to her order by the fish monger in the supermarket, and fresh figs just pulled from the tree in the garden.

Knowing of our interest in food and plan to next visit San Sebastián, our host pushed us to drive into the city of Santander for lunch, as she maintained that the food was just as good and cost half of what we would pay in San Sebastián.

So, we took the plunge and had a great meal

At a restaurant that hands out a little dictionary with the names of foods in eight languages. We think we’ll keep it!

 

Bilbao and the Beginning of the Basque Country

Let’s face it, most people come to Bilbao to see the Frank Gehry designed Guggenheim Museum.
And to groan at the huge flower covered dog
Created by (it’s not hard to guess) Jeff Koons.

That was certainly the case when we planned the trip with our friends Philip and Catherine.

After all, it is a beautiful thing to behold.
And provides oodles of visual interest along the river in the heart of the city.
It has also done a remarkably effective job in spurring the revitalization of this mountain-wrapped, industrial port city (founded in 1300) that is the gateway to Basque Country.
The recently spruced up market, further along the river by the old part of the city, is also a great place to feast on tapas or pintxos (in Basque). Sitting in a common area, you check out the wares at the different vendors and try different plates of extravagant compositions. There are lots of anchovies.
Wandering the city has its own visual rewards. This last imposing looking palace was, in fact, a palace. Philip and Jim walked in and talked with the guard who explained that the building houses the official presence of Spain in the city. Hmmm. We understand that both the Basque territory (comprised in a few different provinces) and Catalonia have more autonomy than other provinces.
We also visited the Basque museum where this iconic representation of Basque identity is given pride of place. Looks kind of like a . . . some kind of a . . . boar (?) with a disc. It’s known as the Mikeldi and is from the Iron Age.
The museum features displays on the seafaring and shepherding life of the Basque (who curiously have a cultural center in Boise, Idaho where many Basque seem to wind up). This wolf trap was easier to understand in a museum with signage only in Basque and Spanish. It was also grimly interesting.
But, back to that art theme suggested by the Guggenheim – don’t expect a lot of art inside Mr. Gehry’s sculptural tour-de-force. For one thing, the design doesn’t allow much interior exhibit space (although there are some interesting installations that make a visit worthwhile). To see art in Bilbao, all you need to do is go next door to the art museum where the collection is varied and of a very high quality. We enjoyed it quite a bit, especially because we saw artists with whom we weren’t as familiar, such as Joaquin Sorolla (the scene of Granada in the last photo).

The ceramicist Francisco Durrio

Dario de Regoyas

And some interesting pieces from the 15th and 16th centuries. Something for everyone. By the way, the enormous painting of the matador by Ignatio Zuloaga is on loan from the Hispanic Society of America. Interesting.

No, Picasso’s Guernica is not in Bilbao. Having lived its own life in exile until it was reluctantly returned by the MoMA to Spain under the terms of Picasso’s will, it is now installed in its own gallery in Madrid. However, the art museum in Bilbao (not far from the town of Guernica, “Gernika” in Basque) maintains a fascinating exhibit of a number of Picasso’s sketches for the work, as well as other anti-war art, including some pieces inspired by Picasso’s work.

These included an untitled painting by Jackson Pollack from 1951 in a size (roughly 12″x15″) we weren’t used to seeing from him.
In yet another proof of the theory of “six degrees of separation,” we later met an American (Frank, or “Patxo”) in a cooking class in San Sebastián (or “Donostia” in Basque) whose mother hid in an orchard during the attack on Guernica by Italian Fascist and Nazi German warplanes (at the request of Franco and the Spanish Nationalists).

A Day on the Mountain of Montserrat

Getting to the Abbey of Santa Maria de Montserrat has an element of drama. We started with a metro ride to the train station, then a train to the cable car station, and finally a ride up the mountain in the little yellow box.

It affords a good view. “Montserrat” is, of course, “serrated mountain” and its name seems apt enough.
There are also funiculars and a cog railway. Apparently, there is also a road. Whether that affords more or less of a sense of adventure we couldn’t say without checking it out. It does seem like cheating, though.

The Benedictine monastery was founded in the 10th century and still has over 150 monks in residence. We didn’t see any.

The Abbey has played an important role in the religious and political life of Catalonia. In more recent times, the monks were persecuted during the Civil War by Republican forces and then also persecuted by Franco given their ties to Catalan separatists and left wing politics and habit of providing sanctuary.

In a basilica partly built into the mountain, the Virgin of Montserrat is the principle attraction for both the curious and the faithful.

(Thank you to Wikipedia for the image.)
She is a likely-Romanesque statue of Mary holding an infant Jesus with blackened skin, known as the Black Madonna or La Moreneta. Various legends are attached to the statue, including that it was carved during the early days of the Church in Jerusalem and spirited away for safe keeping in the 8th century. Even in the middle of October there was a long line as people made their way along a passageway that led behind the altar to an elevated area overlooking the interior of the church. There the Madonna was behind glass, except for her hand which can be touched or kissed in veneration.
After mailing a postcard, it was down the mountain and back to Barcelona.

 

Miro, Picasso & the Essence of Catalonia

It is that white star in a blue triangle that changes the Catalan flag into a separatist flag. You see them often, as it had been our intent to visit the two regions of Spain that don’t really want to be a part of Spain: Catalonia and the Basque Country.
Barcelona has long been the vibrant heart of Catalonia. It’s currently one of the “it” cities of Europe, full of energy and personality. It was that cultural energy that drew 15 year old Pablo Picasso to Barcelona in 1896 from his native Malaga and kept him anchored to Spain as he maintained residences in both Barcelona and Paris until his self-exile in 1939 when Francisco Franco prevailed in the Spanish Civil War (remember Picasso’s 1937 painting of Guernica?). From exile he donated hundreds of his early works and some works of his final years (The Pigeons series) to a dedicated Picasso museum in Barcelona which Franco forbade to bear Picasso’s name. Picasso never saw the museum because he died before Franco met his own end. Our visit (no photographs allowed) was somewhat disappointing. The early works clearly show his gifts, but the collection somehow seemed as if it were comprised of all the paintings that didn’t sell. So, it was interesting, but not inspiring.
We went up to the Monjuic neighborhood to visit the Joan Miro Foundation out of a sense of obligation to check out another museum dedicated to another acknowledged modern master, even though we had low expectations. We had a different kind of experience. We liked it. This 1919 painting (Miro was 26) of the village of Mont-roig captures Miro’s interest in primitivism, his Catalan roots, nature and the objects of everyday life.
From there on the canvas continues to loosen.
Miro often thought of his art as “anti-painting,” although he also said: “I make no distinction between painting and poetry.”

He was fascinated with body language and graffiti. He was also influenced by Japanese art and the approach to calligraphy characterized by rapid execution following a period of intense concentration. He visited Japan a couple of times, as well as the United States where he met with the abstract expressionists, including Pollack.

The beauty of the Miro Foundation museum is that it actually does provide such as wide perspective on his work that you begin to have the illusion that you understand him.

From the Miro Foundation we walked over to the National Art Museum of Catalonia with its commanding view of the city (hi, Catherine!).

Among other things, the Catalan museum houses the preeminent collection of Romanesque Art in Europe, featuring murals and panels from rural Catalan churches from the 11th – 13th centuries. In the early twentieth century, a mass purchase of the art was being orchestrated by American institutions. The Catalan government stepped in and organized a conservation effort to preserve them for Catalonia.

It’s again a very impressive collection that, makes you reassess how you feel about an entire epoque in art.

Our heads filled with art, we headed down towards the Placa d’Espanya
And the heart of Barcelona.