As artichokes pop up all over southern Italy, they are taking pride of place in chunky stews and steamy braises of potatoes and butter beans Six weeks ago there were six inches of snow, I was told, covering hills and roads near Vallelunga in central Sicily. By last week, when I visited, it was springishly green. The hills were covered in young wheat, roadsides softened by feathery bushes of something that looks like wild fennel, but isn’t, and masses of ubiquitous wood sorrel, with its acid yellow flowers. Just up the road from my friend and teacher Fabrizia’s house, the almond tree, always the first to flower, has put on her puffs of pale pink blossom. The Greeks saw almond as a symbol of hope, and they brought the trees to Sicily, where it felt comfortable and settled in. This particular tree certainly looks comfortable, her branches arching up and blooming hopefully, while less precocious fruit and nut trees in the garden are still bare skeletons. As eye-catching as the almond are the citrus trees, which are still loaded with blazing fruit, a sight for my sore eyes. Behind the house and farm the vegetable patch is quiet, the unexpected snow having slowed everything down, causing shortages both locally and further away. Last week, there were lettuces though, and cultivated cardoons, which, although less formidable than their wild ancestors, still have great silvery stems defended by thorns. Continue reading...
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