Palermo Rick Stein's Long Weekends

A change is as good as a rest, they say.

So, a long weekend, not too far away and not obvious, like Paris or Rome.

A place where I can take in some local history, a bit of culture,

but of course, it's the food that will always be the key.

If you like a strong sense of the past, great street food,

a touch of the baroque with a hint of the Godfather, plus a swim,

then this could be for you.

# Hey, Rick! Where we going this weekend? ... #

Palermo!

# Or are we flying a few hours away?

# For some delicious food, they say

# So, Rick, make the booking, and let's get cooking

# And get those taste buds going this weekend. #

I must say, I'm really, really happy to be back in Palermo.

I just love the city.

It's so dilapidated in a very, very stylish sort of way.

Also, what I'm looking forward to is southern Italian cooking.

The food of Sicily,

it's so different from the food of the north of Italy.

It's all about vegetables, very little meat,

lots of lovely, interesting and sometimes slightly daunting street food.

But one of the things that, really, for me personally,

I'm looking forward to is to catch up

with one of my favourite books of all time, The Leopard.

And there's this great feeling of opulence and decay

and love and death about it,

and that's the way I feel about this great city.

One of the joys - I think that's the word -

of arriving on these long weekends is that I never know

what the hotel's going to be like.

I've been very lucky so far, and this one,

I'm told, used to be the stock exchange in Sicily

before Mussolini closed it down and just had one, based in Milan.

Does that say something about mainland Italians and Sicilians?

It might do. Anyway.

This looks good.

This looks very good.

Bedroom...

Oh, look!

My own sitting room.

And champagne... Cannolis!

I love cannolis.

Gosh. Let's have a look.

Oh! Look at that view.

Look at that!

Buona sera, Palermo!

I came to Palermo for the first time about 25 years ago,

and I'm ashamed to say I was quite nervous about it.

The press coverage around the 1980s and early '90s

had been pretty gruesome, with Mafia revenge killings

filling a lot of pages.

I have to say, though, because I thought it so nerve-shredding,

I did get more than a frisson of excitement about the whole thing.

Times have definitely changed.

It feels different and I don't think it's got anything to do

with growing older.

There's a much happier spirit floating about.

This is the freshest octopus anybody's ever likely to get.

Interestingly, not cooked for that long.

About 10-15 minutes.

But just look at it!

A bit of olio?

Olio.

Oh!

I know I keep saying it, but that is the pure taste of the sea.

It is unbelievable, if you like seafood.

It's like an epiphany.

It's an epiphany of seafood!

I love all this graffiti.

Al Pacino looks quite at home.

'I was just thinking about whether to eat here

'with a few tiny dishes of this and that or find a restaurant nearby

'when I was accosted in the nicest possible way by a stranger.'

Rick. Right?

-Yeah, yeah.

-Rick Stein?

Hi, you don't know me, but I know you.

'This is Marco Romeo.

'Great name. And he just happens to know a lot about market food here.

'Right place, right time.'

But since I met you here. Are you staying nearby?

Yeah, I'm just in that hotel down there.

I'm just looking for somewhere to eat. This looks so interesting.

-Do you mind if I join you?

-No, no, absolutely.

-Cool.

-I just don't know what to order.

'Apparently, I'm filming with Marco in a couple of days' time.

'As he's an expert on street food here.'

Earlier on, I happened to see these cooking on the charcoal.

They smelt delightful.

Never had them before.

So, now we're going to enjoy some mangia e bevi,

but there is of course much more,

there are panelle, cazzilli, crocche,

polpo and God knows what else!

I would think this is like street food central then in Palermo?

-It is.

-Fabulous.

It is the pumping heart of the street food.

"The pumping heart"!

I like that.

'So, it is simplicity itself.

'A couple of spring onions wrapped tightly in thick,

'fatty bacon and put over the charcoal.

'I can't wait.

'Just a bit of lemon juice, I think, and then taste.

'I wouldn't mind putting a few of those on the barbecue home.'

Perfection!

Beer?

Mangibrevi?

Melts in your mouth... Mangia e bevi.

-Mangia e bevi.

-Meat and drink.

I mean, I would never think of wrapping bacon around spring onion.

That is so simple, so thoughtful.

What would go really well with a cold beer...

It is going with the cold beer. It's quick, tasty.

Do you know what I always say about street food?

You're never going to get sick from street food

because you can see exactly what they are doing right in front of you

and it's always cooked and it's always,

often as lovely as this.

We also say that street food is for everybody.

You don't have high class, low class, or whatever.

-No.

-Who's eating street food?

We are all the same. For the very same moment, for an instant,

everybody's happy.

I have to say, Marco, this is a bit of a special moment for me,

you know?

Salute.

Salute!

That was fabulous.

I'd quite like to try some fish now.

-Can you show me?

-You can go ahead, I've got to go now.

-Oh, OK.

-Take care.

-All right.

-Enjoy the night.

-Cheers.

-All right, take care.

'All thoughts of sitting down at a restaurant disappear,

'seeing all this fish.

'I've got everything I need in this night market, the Vucciria.'

These are just little, tiny sardines, tossed in flour and deep-fried.

Could there be anything more delicious?

So fresh, so tasty.

Yum!

So, here I've got beccafico. They are stuffed sardines,

stuffed with breadcrumbs, pine nuts and raisins

and a little bit of tomato.

I must say, I'm getting a little bit tired now,

but I just had to come here to the Vucciria.

My hotel's just across the road, and in here,

all this lovely food, all this activity.

I was just thinking, you could never feel lonely in Palermo.

There's so much going on all around you all the time.

I've felt like I've just arrived right in the middle of things,

broken the ice, and everything is going to be such fun from now on.

Now, there's a film I like called Spinal Tap.

It's about a British rock band

and their amplifiers go up as high as 11!

Whereas all the other amps in all the other rock bands go to ten.

It reminds me of Sicily.

When it comes to food, the buzz, the general feel and the heat,

it's number 11!

Now, I have to say, what a very Sicilian dining room this is.

Fortunately, no complicated coffee machine to deal with

and today, I feel, because it's Sicily, I want something sweet.

Something like a honey and almond cake

goes really well with good coffee.

And a pear flan! Superb!

Oh, yes! And the famous cannolis.

That crispy shell stuffed with tangy, sweet-tasting cheese.

I remember a scene in The Godfather

when the wife of Peter Clemenza says,

"Can you bring back some cannolis when you come back from work?"

Little did she know that, with an accomplice,

he shot Pauly in the head and he said to his fellow assassin,

"Leave the gun and take the cannoli."

It's gone down in film history.

That's a cannoli.

Espresso, Americano?

Oh, I'd love a cappuccino, please.

-Cappuccino?

-Yeah. Thank you.

-Grazie.

-Prego.

See, the only time you're supposed to drink cappuccino is at breakfast.

Never after a meal.

I've learnt that already.

So...

Mmm.

Cannolis - they are really nice.

The best cannolis, I've been reading this - the outer bit, the biscuit,

is made in Corleone.

The inner bit has got to be made with fresh ricotta.

Mm!

Delicious.

It was by pure chance that the Thanksgiving Day

for Palermo's patron saint Rosalia

was being held at the top of Monte Pellegrino,

overlooking the city.

Pilgrims come here to pay their respects and pray.

Some walk on their knees.

It seems the more painful and uncomfortable their journey,

the more likely they are to receive her blessing.

Roaslia ran away from home, or rather the palace,

when King Roger arranged a marriage with one of his knights

when she was at the tender age of 13.

This was in the 12th century.

First, she went into a convent, but after a short while

decided to live the life of a hermit.

She gave herself to God and lived alone in a cave for about 20 years.

And then 300 years or so later, when Palermo was in the grip of a plague,

she appeared before a hunter and told him to parade her bones around the city walls

and the plague would go.

He did and the plague miraculously disappeared.

In July, when she has another festival,

they feast on snails fed on wild fennel

and a profusion of watermelons.

I didn't get that, but at least I met Rosalia.

Viva Santa Rosalia!

APPLAUSE

I think what makes Sicily so special to me

and so different from the rest of Italy...

I mean, it's the largest island in the Mediterranean,

so it would feel a bit different,

but it's just the fact that so many different nations have crossed

and recrossed it and, in fact, Santa Rosalia is a case in point.

She was Norman.

And there have been all these different nations

and changing food and changing architecture,

you can see it everywhere and eat it everywhere.

And just thinking about it, there's all these nations, the Phoenicians,

the Greeks, the Carthaginians, the Romans,

the Goths, the Byzantians, that Arabs, the Normans,

the Spanish, the French, everybody's been here

and there's bits of them everywhere and it makes it so wonderful.

Down from Monte Pellegrino is the seaside town of Mondello,

a little jewel box collection of Art Nouveau buildings,

where the great and the good - and the not so good, probably -

would come and take the waters.

Mondello sounds like a new type of ice cream,

maybe with some cherries in it.

Just one Mondello, give it to me!

The beach is mightily chaotic.

I love the way the Italians just stand in the water for ages,

having conversations.

Probably about where to get the best seafood and pasta.

And talking of that, look at this.

Stiff, fresh bream.

Just hours out of the sea.

Lovely, chunky steaks of swordfish,

just chargrilled with olive oil and grains of sea salt.

Langoustines, perfect with mayonnaise, and these prawns.

They haven't been cooked, they are naturally red

and have a great flavour.

And there's oysters, of course.

And in the cucina, there's just one woman, beavering away,

always a brilliant sign, I think, of good food.

Her name's Nelly.

She's cooking spaghetti vongole, one of my desert island favourites.

As simple as it gets.

Just clams, spaghetti, parsley, olive oil.

A classic.

I have to say, I think

Italian seafood antipasti is one of my greatest pleasures in life and

honestly... Well, I'm probably going to have a grilled fish after this,

but this is so enjoyable.

I just want to run through a few of the things I've already eaten.

First of all, just a little octopus and clam and mussel salad,

just with some olive oil over the top. That's it.

Over here, we have some pannelle,

which is actually probably the most famous food in all of Sicily.

It's chickpea fritters with fennel seeds in them.

They sound nothing, but they taste unbelievably good.

They just call these open mussels.

They are just mussels opened with a bit of tomato sauce.

And the great thing about them is the freshness of the mussels

when they are open. Over here,

we've got some octopus just cooked with red wine and a bit of tomato.

It's a baby octopus, slow-cooked.

And talking of tiny things, these are baby squid,

just fried in breadcrumbs.

Gosh, they are good!

A glass of local wine called Grillo and, you know...

Wish you were here!

Part of my job, which I love by the way,

is looking for great recipes to take home and this is a real delight.

Pasta alla trapanese.

It's pesto, but not as we know it.

There's no meat in it, no fish in it, but for me,

it was one of the most memorable dishes of the whole trip.

I first had this dish in Palermo, but it actually comes from Trapani.

And what I liked about it is it's a completely vegetarian dish,

but it's so fresh.

The flavours are so vibrant.

And it differs from the normal pesto

because it's made with almonds rather than with pine nuts,

but it's still got the basil in it.

But then it's got fresh tomatoes with it and pecorino,

rather than Parmesan.

I just find it really fresh and really spiky with that pecorino

and absolutely delicious and quite surprising, really.

It's quite unlike a lot of other Sicilian dishes.

I hate using these food processors, but they are so efficient!

So, into that goes skinned and toasted almonds

followed by fresh basil.

I've never met anyone who doesn't love basil.

And then chopped garlic, about four cloves.

Pulse until they make a sort of paste, a sort of pesto.

Chop little vine tomatoes, drenched in the Cornish sun.

Not quite up to their Sicilian counterparts, but very nice and will do.

Put those on top of the pesto and then the grated pecorino.

It's a sheep's cheese, as we all know, crisp and sharp.

And now, lashings of really good olive oil.

You'd be very unlucky to come across a bad olive oil in a Sicily.

I think it has the best going.

Next, salt and pepper.

And now, the pasta is al dente, drain it and mix with the pesto.

That's all you need to know.

I sort of think if you saw on a menu "pesto alla trapanese",

with whatever pasta it's going with, you probably wouldn't order it.

And I recall the last time I had it, we were with the crew

who were a bit conservative, to put it mildly,

and there's one or two members of the crew that always go for steak.

And when I hear them go for steak in somewhere like India or Sicily

I think "Nah, don't do it, don't do it."

Anyway, I saw the pesto alla trapanese and I suppose

I knew about it and one or two of the others who know about

their food also knew about it, we ordered that.

We had a lovely meal

and the crew who had the steak said it was a horrible restaurant. Ha!

Palermo feels almost North African to me.

And the joys of eating and relaxing on the roof in a lovely shady garden

in the late afternoon makes a lot of sense here

like it would do in Algiers or Casablanca or Tunis.

Viviana, a lawyer and a very keen chef,

invited me to supper with her friends

on the top of an old palazzo.

No lifts, just lots of stairs.

It's worth the climb because there are lovely views

and it's a great place to cook.

Viviana, this is such a nice kitchen.

In the summer, we come here every week or two times a week

to stay together, to cook, to drink

and to eat... To enjoy ourselves.

-You get a nice breeze up here...

-We eat a lot!

-You tell what?

We eat a lot!

I bet you do! I mean, who wouldn't, with a view like this.

You obviously love to cook your Sicilian food.

My love for the cooking, it comes from my mother,

who loves French cuisine.

I began to cook like my mother,

-with a lot of butter, a lot of cream and such.

-Yeah.

And after a while,

I understood that the Sicilian flavour

was better than the French flavour or the Greek flavour

or the other flavour, because it is more...

More flavours, I don't know.

The dish that you taste and you say, "No, I must have another!"

So do I! That's what I... I always say the same thing.

-Si, si.

-You want to make food that people say, "I want more of this, I want more!"

Yes, we say "non si puo levare della bocca".

You cannot put out of your mouth, when you taste something...

It's so good. Can you say it again?

Non si puo levare della bocca!

Fabulous.

So, along with olive oil, there's minced veal and finely diced onions,

carrots and celery.

Marsala wine - at least a generous glassful -

then passata, two jars of passata.

A great Italian invention - uncooked and sieved tomatoes.

Salt and then a little home-grown chilli,

they call peperoncino.

Next, sugar...

..and fresh peas.

And now the pasta.

Round pasta.

And no, it's not that round spaghetti that comes in tins,

it's called annelletti, great for soups and stews.

Meanwhile, in another pan, olive oil and then breadcrumbs.

These form the base of the dish.

It's almost like a baked cake, and they call it pasta al forno,

pasta baked in the oven.

Now, she puts in these pieces of fried aubergine,

she drains the annelletti and then the source, the ragu.

Now, the Parmesan cheese,

and at every stage this dish seems to grow in stature.

It wouldn't cost too much to make, but typically Italian,

this would feed at least ten to a dozen people.

And now, slices of the famous fontina cheese and then more pasta.

Look no further than this if you're making a dinner party for ten people

and you don't want to be stuck in the kitchen the whole evening.

Finally, Viviana tops with breadcrumbs and into the oven,

bake for 25 minutes.

Perfetto!

And out it comes, and this is how it should look.

Eccola!

These very satisfying pieces of golden aubergine

on top of the pasta cake.

Ecco qua! Pasta al forno alla Siciliana!

-Chin-chin! Tanti auguri!

-Chin-chin!

'Now, just look at that.

'You know it's going to taste good.

'This is really Italian family food.'

Rick. Voila.

'You know, I can't think of any other cuisine that people love more

'when friends and family get together.

'And it's made for a good, generous glass of Sicilian red.'

GLASSES CLINK LOUDLY

Alla pasta al forno!

It seems like bells from a cathedral here.

Santa Rosalia aiutaci tu!

That is spectacular.

Buona?

I think, when I was watching you cook it, I was just noticing...

You know, when British people make Italian food,

they don't put enough in of everything.

They don't put enough oil in, they don't put enough salt in,

they don't put enough tomato in.

I told you about my mother, no?

-Yes.

-My mother says always,

"Viviana, esagera."

You must exaggerate.

You know, pasta con le sarde is a typical Palermitano dish.

Love it, love it.

But it is difficult to find a good because my mother says,

"You must exaggerate," you put oil, you say, "This enough? No!"

Plaf! You put saffron? Another kind. Plaf!

You must exaggerate and the food it will be good when you exaggerate.

What's the expression?

Non si puo levare della bocca!

Exactly! I don't want to take it out of my mouth.

I think it's just because it's so well made,

you sort of think you must have had a secret ingredient, you know?

THEY LAUGH

I'd like to thank everybody very, very much.

-Bello,

-bellissimo! You've got to have glasses that sound like bells.

Duomo bells, remember, Duomo bells.

BELLS CHIME

I know it's a bit of a boy thing,

but I love a city where they are still making cooking implements

in the back streets somewhere.

I mean, we've got barbecues being made, we've got pizza paddles,

we've got things for roasting chestnuts.

Round the corner, some massive pans.

Stuff for both domestic and commercial use.

It's just a fantastic atmosphere.

I know you may find it a little bit dull, but I love it.

Not far from the cathedral in the Piazza Papireto

is a lovely, old flea market.

It started life in 1948, with hidden treasures,

probably from old palazzos,

bombed in their hundreds by the Americans in the Second World War.

In those days, it was full of the trappings of an aristo's palazzo,

but now, it's pretty bare pickings.

But who knows if there's not a tiny da Vinci sketch lining a drawer

in an old desk? Or a dirty, old Caravaggio lying around,

or maybe a chair, sat on by an exhausted Garibaldi

before he set off to unify the rest of Italy.

This is a welcoming sight.

A sfincione van, just in time for elevenses.

You come to Palermo without tasting a sfincione?

It's like going to Cornwall and not having a pasty.

-One?

-One. Si.

Grazie.

-Guarda.

-Perfect.

Perfect.

'The Palermitani like nothing more than to argue passionately

'with each other over what constitutes the best sfincione.'

Tagliare?

Si, grazie.

This is the most popular street food in Palermo, called sfincione,

it's like focaccia bread with a topping of,

I think just tomato and onion, and olive oil and salt.

It's hot, it's a perfect snack...

..in fact I would say it is a perfect lunch,

if you're trying to lose a bit of weight.

It's utterly, utterly delicious.

Yum!

This is a place I well remember from a filming trip ten years ago,

it is called Spinnato's.

I think I sat in exactly the same seat and this dish blew me away.

Pasta with tomato, fresh mint and capers,

it was sensational - so simple and so good.

I put it on the menu in Padstow and it's still there.

Now, I see subtle changes, there are definitely more holidaymakers here.

Before, I was a little bit in awe of the place,

people seem to be very smartly dressed,

they weren't holidaymakers - oh, no,

I remember watching them and thinking,

"Gosh, they've got so much style, I wonder what they do."

Best not to ask, but it's really nice to be back.

I've been reading quite a few thick books about Sicily,

and Palermo in particular.

Sometimes the internet just gives you what you want.

This is from a "Come To Palermo" website - it's very pithy,

and what's good about it, it says what's really nice about Palermo,

but it doesn't airbrush out the bad bits as well,

which I think actually makes you want to come here more.

Here's a few lines from it, it says,

"They say Palermo is difficult to describe," well, it so is,

"Palermo is sensual and fascinating, Palermo is chaotic,

"Palermo is an Arabian city, not Muslim,

"Palermo is a city that changes continually,

"Palermo has blinding light" - gosh, it does -

"Palermo is a bridge between East and West,

"Palermo is a hell of traffic and smog,

"Palermo is near yet exotic,

"Palermo is the most European of North African cities..."

HE CHUCKLES

"Palermo is not clean"...

I love it!

"Palermo in summer is an experience on the edge of reality."

Fabulous stuff!

Gosh! Says it all.

This is a must for me, the steps of the Teatro Massimo,

Palermo's opera house,

because I saw the third Godfather film a couple of days before

for about the seventh time,

and this is where that tragic piece of cinema

was played out to the music of Cavalleria rusticana.

I bet loads of film fans come here

as part of an homage running that scene of Pacino hugging his murdered daughter.

Not a dry eye in the house.

GUNSHOTS

But it's time for lunch at a really good local restaurant

called Cascinari.

HE CALLS OUT IN ITALIAN

-BELL RINGS

-Servire!

This restaurant is all about substance, not about form,

in other words it's all about truthful, Palermitani recipes,

learned from grandfathers, grandmothers,

it's not about modern food at all, and that is why it is so popular.

I have just been talking to Vito,

what he's making here is a very popular local dish, swordfish involtini.

Involtini just means stuffed.

In other words, this is the stuffing and you wrap swordfish around it.

It is traditional cooking from Sicily.

So, it's fried onions in olive oil,

then breadcrumbs mixed with crushed almonds, now raisins and pine nuts.

That's very Arab, that.

A squeeze of lemon and then salt and sugar.

Then a small piece of swordfish, fill and roll with the stuffing.

Hold it together with a skewer and then separate with a bay leaf

and dip in olive oil.

Then, breadcrumbs and chopped pistachios

and then bake for eight minutes. Lovely!

I am having lunch here with Giulia Monteleone,

she is a formidable woman, who believes so passionately in the food here.

It was her choice of restaurant as well.

Oh, look at that.

Thank you, grazie.

This is quite special. I've never seen them in a pistachio...

Pistachio outside and inside, almonds - it's the best.

Gosh!

This is absolutely lovely.

I mean, it's so simple and so clean tasting.

What do you think is so special about Sicilian food then because

-everybody loves it, can you put your finger on what it is?

-Yes.

Yes, we have a particular... feeling with food.

For us, food is like love, family, warm sensation.

Sometimes, when I go out in holidays,

for example my mother called me and she don't ask me, "How are you?"

She asked to me, "What did you eat today?"

So, it's very strange because for us, it's very important, the food.

These are moments of...

It's like a writer, we love food, we love to speak about food, we always speak about food.

During lunch, we speak about the dinner.

And, for example, when I am falling in love with someone,

I like to cook for him.

It's important for us.

It's amazing. It is our way of love someone.

Aw, Giulia, one thing I've noticed, there is not a lot of,

as far as I can see, not a lot of young people

doing wacky new things with food,

it's very much about concentrating on classic Sicilian food.

Well, I love the classic.

The classic ones because they have a history,

so you cannot have new things,

but you must respect the traditions inside of this

because we have, I tell you, we have a lot of dominations,

so this dish is in this way because we have the Arabs,

we have the French ones, we have the Spanish ones,

so have a lot of history and you cannot change,

you cannot make another thing with our plate, with our dishes.

Fair enough.

Giulia was one of those food enthusiasts I could talk to for ages.

That's where I came up with the idea for this dish.

It's been around for a while, it's traditional,

and it's very tasty indeed.

Chicken with Marsala sauce,

a dish from the '60s

when beef stroganoff and spaghetti Bolognese were new and with it.

I'm really pleased to be doing a recipe for chicken Marsala,

it comes from my youth, from the '50s and '60s.

The '60s. I just, I didn't see it,

but somebody said in the '60s in places like Fitzrovia in London,

there were signs saying, "We serve spaghetti, but not on toast."

Well, those were the sort of early Italian restaurants,

which would've had chicken Marsala on.

And the first thing you've got to do is bash out

this chicken breast till it's about half a centimetre thick.

And it's just really nice.

You know, it's the sort of thing I really like after

maybe a bowl of pasta, is to have chicken Marsala.

Remember, when you serve this you will need a raffia-covered

Chianti bottle with a candle in it and a chequered tablecloth,

probably red and white with some grissini - some breadsticks,

and to complete the ambiance,

you must put Dean Martin on the radiogram.

It will take around two to three minutes a side,

you want golden brown,

and then use the same pan to make the sauce.

So, a bit more butter and chopped shallots.

And then garlic, about three cloves.

So, I'm just slicing up some mushrooms here.

What I like about this dish is how simple it is,

it is like virtually all-Italian cooking,

there's nothing much to it.

Here we've just got some garlic,

shallots, a few mushrooms, in the pan,

sauteed down a bit, throw in some Marsala, throw in some chicken stock,

and it's done.

I suppose Marsala is a bit like the Sicilian version of sherry.

It is made, actually, in the same way,

but whereas in Spain they call making the sherry the solera system,

in Sicily it's called in perpetuum.

That just means you are always adding new Marsala to the top of the stack

and taking the old stuff from the bottom,

so it has this lovely, nutty flavour just like sherry.

It came to England in the 18th century, and was an instant hit.

Now, some chicken stock, and that's it.

It's a little trip down memory lane, for me.

I'm thinking of Steak Diane and Crepe Suzette.

So, just taste it now I've put some seasoning in.

Oh, that's so good. I have often fancied myself in an earlier life

of being one of those waiters in a really busy Italian restaurant

doing this at somebody's table.

It would be such fun.

You know, it doing it with so much aplomb.

Just doing a little bit of basting here, and a little bit of seasoning,

but basically it's as quick as that, it's done now and ready to serve.

I'm just going to do a few sauteed potatoes

and a little lettuce salad to go with it.

OK, it may be old-fashioned, but who cares?

Because it's very tasty and that Marsala sauce is well worth doing.

The next day I got up early to do my morning walk,

well, to keep a bit of weight off, really.

I was meeting up with my new friend Marco who is very keen on Palermo's

street food heritage, especially the stuff food tourists seem to ignore.

In this case, frittula - gristle and soft cartilage.

You could well call it the sweepings from the abattoir floor,

though that might put people off a little.

This gentlemen is the frittularu, so he's the vendor of frittula.

Where is the frittola? It is hiding inside here.

-Hidden?

-Hidden inside.

-Yes, exactly.

-No, no, no, but why is it hidden?

-Is it so...

-Why? To keep it warm.

-Oh, OK.

-And not to scare people before they get to know it better.

So, we are talking about cartilage and fat of veal,

fried and then boiled in salted water.

It is considered a little bit hardcore in town.

Why?

Because it's served by his hands directly on a paper.

You don't take the food to your mouth,

you take your mouth to the food.

-Good.

-Black pepper and lemon.

Mouth go to the food.

Oh, yeah! Nearly, nearly!

HE SPEAKS ITALIAN

-How is it?

-Excellent. Excellent.

I'm not just saying this, but it's really nice.

I mean, I can understand a lot of people not liking it.

It doesn't look very nice.

But it's a surprise because then the flavour is very delicate.

Absolutely. It smells nice. I think if you like your roast beef,

like we do in the UK, and you like the fat on the roast beef,

it's just like that.

You are now eating the history of Palermo.

-That is what I want.

-This is a 500-year-old recipe.

-You are a real Palermitano now, with oily hands.

-With oily hands.

This is how you check a real Palermitano.

I always find it a bit frustrating staying in a hotel

and looking at all the lovely fish and seriously beautiful vegetables.

You know, I just need a kitchen,

but I have to say it is really nice to be with Marco.

He is a great champion of street food here,

and this, the Capo market, is like his home.

So colourful, look at those chillies.

Colourful, fresh and tasty.

Wow, look at those.

Sicilian zucchini.

Wow!

-Is this...

-These are the leaves of the zucchini.

So, with these two guys, you make the typical mamma or grandma's pasta.

Which means the pasta cooked in broth,

with leaves and zucchini and then my mum,

so you have two different parties, some people eat it hot,

but my mum puts this broth with pasta in the fridge.

So you have lovely, fresh, seasonal vegetables, cold.

But only mammas and grandmas make this.

-Why?

-Because it is a typical mamma's recipe.

-Oh, OK.

-When the mamma makes this at home,

she phones me and my brother,

-my sister come home, we have pasta. Like, uh...

-It's like....

..the day we have been waiting for...

-Home thoughts, home thoughts.

-Exactly.

From abroad. Oh, to be in Palermo, now that August is here.

I just noticed there is a lot of tourists coming up through the market.

We were here about ten years ago, and I was in another market,

I don't think I ever saw a tourist, it was like, so local.

Exactly, tourism in general is increasing very fast.

It is not only because it is a nice destination,

we are slowly getting rid of the reputation that this is a dangerous place to come.

Now, finally we are all aware that

a spleen sandwich, a chickpea fritter,

it actually tells the history of the place.

It is not just something to eat, to fill your belly and that is it.

Also, there's no better way of spending a day

as an ordinary tourist than walking through a market.

Marco wanted desperately to show me a very special Sicilian tonic.

He told me it was very good for hangovers, not, I may add,

that I had one of those.

This is a very famous drink on the streets of Palermo,

it is called the driver - autista.

You have a sparkling drink with a chinotto syrup.

Chinotto is bitter orange.

And something is going to happen to your glass,

because our friend, he is going to put some special ingredients,

and then you have to drink it as fast, and as much as possible.

So, get ready for that, deep breath and enjoy the driver.

OK, OK.

Ready? Pronto! Drink, drink, drink, drink!

Go, go, go, go, go, go, go, go.

All right!

Not bad. Bravo.

-Now you can do your well-deserved burp.

-I can see that.

-This is what the people are waiting for.

-Excuse me.

HE BURPS, THEN LAUGHS

Well done! Fab!

When I was last here,

I remember seeing a brilliant painting of a Palermo market,

the Vucciria.

It has really gained in popularity

and so many people now come to see it.

It was painted by Renato Guttuso.

That's him in the yellow polo neck,

and that woman facing him is supposed to be his lover.

The lady behind him in the background I'm told is his wife.

But it's the market scene that I love.

When I first saw this in the Vucciria market, it just struck me,

just by the colour and by the explosion of things going on,

but to me it is the most wonderful painting of food.

And all the time when you are looking at it, your eyes are drawn

to these two figures in the middle.

But, to me, it is about the sort of confusion which is Palermo,

this delightful confusion,

this sort of sweetness and sourness,

that everything is happening in this picture, all of life is in there,

and in fact, the word "vucciria",

it means confusion, it means, like, bedlam,

it means everything is going mad.

But, to me, in a totally delightful way.

His work seemed familiar to me,

and I found out where I had seen it before.

It was in Elizabeth David's seminal piece of work,

her book on Italian food, published in 1954.

These were the days when in Britain nobody had heard of sea salt,

vinegar was malt, olive oil was for dislodging ear wax

and nobody had ever heard of tomato puree.

And as far as focaccia was concerned, forget it.

Incidentally, the painting is housed in what was the headquarters of the

Spanish Inquisition.

But now it is time for lunch

and it is at Ristoranti Buatta, 35 seconds from my hotel.

This dish, I have to say,

is probably the best I had tasted that whole long weekend

and it is called broccoli arriminati.

It is made with new season's cauliflower using some of the smaller leaves

and saffron, raisins and pine nuts.

In fact, all the flavours from Sicily's illustrious past.

You've got some anchovies in there, you've got pine nuts

and you've got some currants and saffron.

And it's just... The bit that makes the difference to me is

the fried breadcrumbs on top.

Who would've thought you could get so much flavour out of a humble cauliflower?

But, also, I have to say,

I just love these white Italian wines.

This is cold, this is crisp, it's from Sicily.

I couldn't actually say what was in it,

there's a bit of pear in there, I suppose, a bit of apple,

a bit of vanilla, if one was being really up one's self but,

really, the thing that I love about Italian wines is they're understated.

You taste them and you think, "Oh, that's nice, now where's the food?"

There's something immensely satisfying, I'd say soothing,

about being in a busy Italian restaurant,

a real Italian restaurant.

While I can't speak Italian,

I know the people here are talking about food.

And Sicilians love to argue.

Where the best lemons come from?

Or what village grows the finest lentils or the sweetest tomatoes.

Or where you go to get the freshest red mullet?

And bread - just don't get them started on bread.

I think, for me,

this is the most memorable crossroads anywhere in the world.

Every time I think of Palermo, I think of the Quattro Canti,

which means the four corners.

It was built by the Spanish in the 1600s.

And on the bottom layer, here, we have the four seasons.

Here we have autumn. There we have winter.

There, with a garland of flowers, we have spring.

There, with lots of fruit, we have summer.

But more than that, above are the four Spanish kings of Sicily.

Above them are the patron saints of Sicily.

And above them is the sky

because this is known as the theatre of the sun

because at any time of the day

the sun is always on one of the quarters.

Any story about Sicily will have love and death,

betrayal and decay running right through it,

like the veins of a blue cheese.

It was and still is a rich island.

And here in the golden shell surrounding Palermo

was where a lot of the wealth came from.

Lemons and oranges grown on vast estates,

owned and run by noble families.

Those that study these things

say that when Garibaldi came along on his

campaign to unify Italy, he took the landowners' power away from them,

their militias and their bodyguards,

who were there to protect the most profitable agricultural land in Europe.

That was just the thing needed to give birth to the Mafia

as the new protectors of the crops.

You see, oranges and lemons during the 1860s

were worth an absolute fortune.

And it was during this time of social change

that one of the most powerful novels written about Italy was set.

It's called The Leopard,

and it was written by Prince Giuseppe Tomasi di Lampedusa,

and it was about the decline of his family's empire here during the early days

when Garibaldi invaded Sicily.

And this is his daughter-in-law - the Duchess of Lampedusa.

She's a great cook and occasionally has cookery lessons here.

But I wanted to talk to her about The Leopard.

I really love The Leopard.

Well, you know, it means a lot.

Because when I got married and when I came into the family,

of course I had read The Leopard, everybody has.

One of the greatest novels ever written.

And it's mainly a novel, well,

of course it's a novel about the resurgent of the history

of Italy, the big changes,

and everything has to change to remain the same, et cetera.

But it's mainly a novel about life, love and death.

Well, the other thing is, for me,

it just means a lot because I actually gave it, when I first met my wife,

I gave her a copy of The Leopard, and she loved it.

But the fact that I had personally given it to her and said,

"You must read this," she was so overwhelmed.

Oh, that's really romantic.

And she got in love with you thanks to The Leopard.

Well, I'm very happy to hear that.

Well, at least it worked with your wife.

Well, it did. Now she says, "You don't read enough!"

So, just before we go any further, do I call you Duchess?

No, Nicoletta, please.

OK, Nicoletta.

I've never talked to a duchess before.

-Aren't you excited?

-Very, very!

Nicoletta is going to cook one of Sicily's most famous street food dishes,

panelle.

It starts off with heating, and beating and stirring chickpea flour,

salt and water until it becomes thick and creamy, like polenta.

Now, can you take over?

-Yeah.

-You can see that immediately...

-Yeah, yeah.

-..it becomes very thick. You have to be quicker.

-Quicker!

-Because, yes, you have to dissolve the lumps.

And scrape the sides and the bottom otherwise it will ruin

and we have to start all over again.

-OK, OK.

-And it will be your fault.

-Stir well. I'll chop the parsley, meanwhile.

-OK.

Do you know how to use the mezzaluna, Rick?

I've never had one, but I know what they do.

-They're for chopping parsley, aren't they?

-Yes.

I'm very happy with my stirring.

It's as smooth as a baby's bottom.

Now, as soon as my parsley is chopped,

-I will come and check.

-OK, OK.

Because I don't trust you.

Fair enough, fair enough.

I understand.

I can appreciate that.

Might have done these things a few times before, but no, no!

Oh! That's good.

Oh, my God, you're hired.

Unfortunately, you know, just stirring, stirring and stirring.

Oh, no, that's fine. I just thought you were going to say,

"Unfortunately, it's ruined."

So, once that's hit the right thickness,

she pours the mixture into an old oil can -

even duchesses can be quite frugal.

And then she puts it into the fridge to harden.

Now, this is a much nicer snack than crisps,

or cheesy God knows whatever

and it's a classic Sicilian favourite.

The Duchess puts parsley with it,

but I know it's very popular with fennel seeds as well.

We're talking seconds here in clean, very hot sunflower oil.

You can see them puff up a little bit.

Then after, say, 15 seconds at most, they're done.

They're rather nice.

They're exquisite.

I'm sure you personally wouldn't agree with this,

but I would love a cold beer with one of these.

Mm.

-I have some.

-Do you?

Yes.

I didn't know that duchesses had cold beers in their houses.

I mean, duchesses have everything, my dear.

Well, panelle and beer is not very Sicilian, but still.

-Thank you very much.

-You're welcome.

-Cheers.

-Cheers.

It's not new, that... It's not the done thing.

Oh. It is to me.

But I must admit, beer goes very well with panelle.

I never ever thought of having beer with panelle.

It's time to go home now.

But I couldn't help notice this old hotel

fairly near the Duchess's palazzo.

The plaque here says," Garibaldi stopped here for a couple of hours

"for a break."

Maybe he had a plate of pasta, or a glass of wine,

a piece of cheese,

before putting his boots back on and finding his rifle

and going on to unify Italy, as you do.

Well, all I have to say is arrivederci, Palermo.

You've been great.

Lovely, happy food.

Great, colourful markets.

Cheerful people.

A lovely ,long weekend.

I salute you.