To Market, to Market

Ortigia's open air market is active every day but Sunday. This is the people's supermarket, a feast for the eyes and the appetite. On my first morning here, I walked fifteen or twenty minutes to find it. Walking is easy in Ortigia. It's beautiful...and it's flat.

I had lovely chats with vendors along the way. I noticed right away that the people in Sicily seem gentler, kinder, and much more open than those in the north. They smile at me. They are curious about my camera, about who I am and where I'm from. Having heard forever about the Sicilian dialect, I expected more difficulty in communicating, but I don't know Italian well enough to hear the differences in the language other than a softening of the consonants. Anyway, as with all communication, it's not accomplished by words alone.

This sweet man sold me pecorino cheese with sun-dried tomato and arugula. He let me taste whatever I wanted before making my choice.

I bought some olives from him, too.

If you're familiar with the Mexican tianguis, you'll notice the similarity in this offering of cookwear and plastic doodads. Other booths sell clothing, second hand goods, handbags and shoes, makeup, underwear...just like in Mexico.

This, though, is pure Sicily. On this verdant island surrounded by the Mediterranean Sea, frutti di mare, the fruits of the sea, are prepared in every kitchen in countless combinations and recipes.

Fresh fish, mussels, oysters ("ostriche"), clams, octopus, shrimp...cooked in wine, tossed with pasta, simply grilled or made into zuppa di mare with garlic, herbs and tomatoes.

This long fish stand reminded me of Pike Place Market in Seattle, the workers chatting and singing, tossing fish one to the other, weighing the wrapped seafood and passing it over to the purchasers with a joke and a grin.

I didn't really want to cook fish, figuring (correctly) I'd find lots of places to cook it for me. But a bit of salami sounded appealing.

I bought it from this man, who was full of good humor and cheer and held my hand for a second when he gave me back my change.

He also sold me a small loaf of crusty bread, dense and fresh. Did I tell you how good Sicilian bread is? It's the best.

Now I had pecorino, olives, salami and bread. I bought plums, which taste like purple sunshine; a few of the tiny sweet pears, just the right size for snack; and a paper bag of crisp grape tomatoes; then wandered back toward the apartment (picking up wine and water along the way), knowing I was perfectly supplied with the Sicilian version of fast food.

Buon appetito!