A sampling of Catania and its food

Ideas that can be tried at home

Caro Amico,

Jet lag or not, I was ready to hit the ground running in Catania. I am, as you know, connected to this place through my maternal grandmother, Grace, who emigrated with her family to America at the turn of the 21st century. They were seeking a better life with more opportunities.

Interestingly, while my parents traveled overseas to various countries, they never came here.

But now here I was, for a second time two decades later, and I intended to do a much better job of seeing it than the first time. Back then, my husband Phil and I breezed through on our way to other, more well-known places like Taormina.

To acclimate myself, I headed straight to Piazza del Duomo, a small yet elegant baroque square with an elephant at the base of an obelisk. Tucked in a corner of the square there is a fountain where the water spills out so naturally, you’d think it had been flowing like this for centuries, which it probably has.

Standing there, listening to the fountain, I realized something: before I launch into talking about the food, there’s something else to tell you about this city.

Catania is what you see — and even more enjoyable if you can see beyond that. There’s a faded grandeur, spectacularly revealed in worn buildings with stunning facades and intricate architectural precision. Carved figures, genteel balconies, and warm lights have weathered the test of time and now share space with graffiti.

The graffiti was less of a disturbance than I expected. Strangely, it adds to the city’s cool, chic, slightly edgy vibe. The streets are clean, which counts for a lot. I can see both what Catania is now and what it can become.

For adventurous souls who find romance in this kind of beauty, like sipping a cool drink in an utterly peaceful garden, vines flowing, surrounded by antiquity, right in the middle of the city, Catania deserves a spot on your list.

And now, dear readers, to some observations and takeaways on the food.

The Fish Market

I expected a huge market, but the one I stopped at was actually relatively small, sandwiched between buildings and a train track. It’s a bit gritty and chaotic, with tables piled high with swordfish, tuna, octopus, squid, and more, all laid out to be sold.

Other fish floated in trays of bloody water, primitive but perfect in its freshness. I could smell the blood in the air, the life it brought drifting away. I found another fish, stingrays, their eyes frozen at death, staring at me and everyone else passing by.

Tables were set up, but I noticed plastic buckets were also flipped over to hold extra trays. Some of the shouting startled me. The knives hitting the table after slicing through wide pieces of fish transfixed me, as did the quick bursts of banter to close a sale, a plastic bag filled to the brim and handed over.

These moments filled the air as thick as the smell of fish itself.

I decided to make friends. I struck up a conversation with a young fisherman. Fishing runs in his family: his grandfather fished until he was 78 and is now 96.

When he found out I was from NYC, the young man, clad in a worn t-shirt, shorts, and rubber boots, said he’d like to go to America. He loves to travel and has driven to many places, but has never gotten on a plane. He admitted he was a bit concerned about it.

I said, “Don’t worry — one day, a plane will get you to America.”

He laughed, but I could tell the idea probably intrigued and terrified him at the same time!

Ideas from Lunch

We found a little spot near the market for lunch. The appetizer alone sparked food inspiration.

They made a cod paste, like the consistency of tuna, and paired it with a dollop of thick chickpea soup and warmed soft tomatoes. It was served with a toasted crostini drizzled with olive oil and seasoning. Even without the chickpea, this seemed like something I could re-create in a new way at home.

The pasta dishes were nothing like what I make at home. They used anchovies and tuna eggs — ingredients I don’t either have or cook with — and somehow made it all work beautifully. I’m game to explore using anchovies at home, especially as a seasoning to enhance flavors.

The tuna steak provided the best ideas. It was perfectly cooked: browned on the outside, tender and rare inside. They topped it with a mix that reminded me of a Greek salad: chopped tomatoes, cucumbers, and these huge capers scattered across the plate. I didn’t even recognize them as capers at first, they were so large.

The mix of warm tuna with the cool, crisp salad was satisfying and refreshing.

Evening Snack

After more walking, and yes, more churches, we wrapped up the night with cold drinks and three arancini. By 8:15 PM, the humidity had finally lifted, though it was still warm.

Arancini are everywhere here and truly iconic. These golden, fried balls are stuffed with a rice mixture that includes salmon, shrimp, and other fillings. I don’t usually order fried food, but when in Sicily…

I scooped out the filling and left most of the crust.

Maybe they could be made with an air fryer? I don’t own one since I rarely eat fried food, but perhaps I can find a way to make these slightly differently. Maybe baking them? Still, I’d aim to capture the spirit of what I tried here.

I’ve learned you don’t have to be a purist in the kitchen. Do your best and focus on what’s interesting and pleasing to you.

There is so much more to say beyond this sampling, but I will get to it all in time. For now, I end with Phil being serenaded over a coffee. The music sounded familiar, I’d heard it before while watching The Godfather.

A perfect segue, since one of our next stops is Savoca, a hilltop Sicilian town where Michael Corleone once hid out and first saw the beautiful Apollonia he wished to court. Michael visited Bar Vitelli, and we will too. I can’t wait to see what foods we discover in this special place.

Con affetto,
Linda