Sue's London Goes To Sicily

Siracusa/Ortygia


Before memories of our dining experiences in Sicily fade as quickly as my tan, it's time to reflect on some of the highs (and a few lows). Siracusa is on the southeast coast of Sicily and Ortygia, an islet connected so firmly to the mainlaind that it's almost inseparable, is full of nightlife with bars, restaurants and cafes around almost every corner. It's also a maze of narrow streets and alleys, and impossible to truly get lost for long. A bit wary to start with, we set off on the 15-minute walk from our beach-side hotel as dusk descended, and tried to ignore the slightly dodgy area we seemed to be passing through - later, as we grew more familiar with the route we lost our initial nervousness and each sighting of other, lone strollers emboldened us. Once on the island, swept up by the crowds out for the nightly 'passegiata' (the traditional meet-and-greet nightly stroll that is such a part of the culture in Italy and Spain), we feel completely safe and start to enjoy the spectacle. Minimal research has resulted in a few possible restaurant options for the week ahead, but this first night, failing to find any of them, we dive into the best looking option, the aptly named Dionysius (the Greek God of Wine). It's 8pm, but the place is empty save for the Chef, a waiter and, presumably, the owner/investor - though within an hour the place is heaving, and it's clearly a neighbourhood place as most of the clientele are greeted like old friends. Oddly, for a restaurant trading on its association with wine, there's no wine list, and we're invited to simply choose something off the shelf. Well, that's a bit of a dare, isn't it? Thank goodness I know a thing or two about Sicilian wine and carefully negotiate our way into what should be a moderately priced white - Cusamano Insolia - as we will almost certainly be eating a fishy meal. Coastal Sicily makes the most of the bounty of the seas, and we've already encountered a distinct lack of meat during our time in Siracuse. Local specialties include sea urchin, tuna and swordfish along with some unidentifiable small fish that are larger than anchovies and smaller (and less bony than) sardines. Unfortunately the meal turns out to be largely unmemorable, save for the feeling that we've walked into a scene reminiscent of The Godfather, without the guns thankfully!


Our next venture into Ortygia is more successful, as we've done more thorough research this time and booked at a restaurant specializing in 'modern' Sicilian - Oinos. Weaving our way through the alleys we stop for a glass of Prosecco at an outdoor cafe in the Piazza del Duomo (great people watching) before moving on to the restaurant. Again we are the first diners, unable to hit the right timing on Sicilian dining. An empty dining room means a lack of atmosphere, so we opt for an outdoor table where we can enjoy the neighbourhood comings and goings. That Oinos is several levels above Dionysius is clear from the start: friendly and efficient staff bring menus and, yes, a wine list, and we are soon immersed in the series of eliminations that are needed for the final line-up.


An amuse-bouche of mussels in a tomato broth is presented shortly after we place our order – the mussels are tender and obviously very fresh, a good sign. We’ve ordered a layered dish of goat cheese and figs (millefoglie dei fichi e caprino con miele) and duck breast with foie gras,figs and pears. The local honey makes a spectacular appearance in both dishes, the sweetness working really well with the saltiness in each case. The duck comes with a generous slice of foie gras that is perfectly cooked: caramelized on the outside and melting in the middle. The goat cheese is salty, soft and fresh and is lifted by the figs and honey. A crisp Vermentino, ‘Grillo’ makes a good pairing to the latter, while Cusamano Buana, a blend of Nero d’Avola and Syrah handles the duck rather well. It’s also a good match with the next two dishes: guinea fowl with a foie gras, rice and spinach stuffing, and ‘bocconcini’ of Argentine beef – large cubes of beer-marinated, grilled steak – on a bed of baby spinach. Both are delicious, and in the case of the beef, simply and lovingly prepared. The chef clearly has a confident hand, and in an homage to Sicilian cuisine, uses local ingredients as often as possible and, by pairing them with more exotic foods, elevates them above the mundane. We are simply too full to find room for dessert and instead waddle slowly back to the hotel. Oinos has lived up to the magazine hype and if we were there for longer we’d have gone back – high praise indeed.


For our final foray into Ortygia we’ve chosen a restaurant that has just celebrated 25 years in business – Don Camillo. The Chef here is also a keen advocate of the Slow Food movement. We are seated in the busy front room where we can also admire the wine collection – there are plenty of Sicilian wines to choose from here which is great because they are my new favourite wines. A couple of glasses of prosecco arrive to tide us over while we look over the menu. There’s a stuffy formality to this restaurant, which makes us roll our eyes a bit (in a ‘get over yourselves’ way), and though the service can’t really be faulted it is not friendly.  The menu is extensive, with a lot of seafood and ‘signature’ dishes, but when it comes it’s apparent that this restaurant is living on its laurels, and the style of cooking is very 1980’s: we have a tired veal scallopine dish, and an uninspired pasta dish. In direct contrast to Oinos, it has not changed with the times and as such is a disappointment.


For the most part, we’ve been very impressed by the freshness of the local food, and only disappointed when it was clear that the food wasn’t either fresh or local. We also ate at our hotel a couple of nights, where Mama was in the kitchen and produced the most delicious simple meals in the local style. Home cooking at its best – maybe the chef at Don Camillo needs to come here and get a refresher course on how to produce dishes that celebrate your ingredients, even if they are humble and few.