Fishing for Flavor

A Journey to Procida

A friend from NYU had a wonderful partner, Al, whose family was from Procida. Ever since learning that, I’ve wanted to visit. I was set on going there and discovering more about the island. When fishing was suggested to me, I thought, "Why not? There’s every other kind of tourism; why not fish tourism?" This fit perfectly with my desire to engage in activities related to fresh food.

One morning, we got up very early to catch the ferry to Procida, a small island off the coast of Naples. Its port is lined with pastel-colored buildings that lead to a church or two in the distance.

The place is famous for the filming of Il Postino, The Postman, which you can find on Apple TV. The movie is about the friendship between the poet Pablo Neruda and a postman. The postman is in love with a woman who seems unattainable—until Neruda helps. The trailer captures the beauty of the unfolding romance, complete with crystal blue waters and volcanic rock formations. But I was there for fish—first fishing, then fish.

Gianluca had arranged the fishing trip, and the men had set the line before our arrival. We were going to see what had been caught. The fisherman began reeling in the net, depositing it into a massive plastic can. As he untangled the net, out came a red mullet with its long, fleshy appendages hanging from its jaw, silver codfish, dusty grouper with sharp dorsal fins, and scorpion fish with scaly backs and spots that were a bit unnerving.

The scorpion fish’s wing-like pectoral fins, meant to make it look bigger than it is, brought thoughts of evolution to mind—perfect for camouflage and protection. The plump white squid looked edible right out of the ocean. Mediterranean gulls trailed the boat, hoping for any remnants tossed back.

The fisherman turned his attention to the catch with the can full of netting. I was offered the chance to clean the fish but wisely declined. He was far more experienced and efficient at it. Once cleaned, the red mullet was laid out in a white tray. As we headed to shore, another boat met us midway—someone there to inspect the fish and buy some for his restaurant. Now that was a restaurant where I wanted to try the fish! But I didn’t need to worry; we planned to cook some ourselves.

Once ashore, I changed into my bathing suit at a local place. We were heading out to a boat around the island, where we could swim a bit and make our fish. We sailed to a calm spot, passing beachgoers, boats, and yachts of all sizes hugging the shoreline.

Wet and cold from the swim, I warmed up as the cooking began. Zucchini, octopus with tomatoes and garlic, linguini, mussels, and olives were brought out, and I could hear the red mullet sizzling.

At that moment, I saw all you need are the right ingredients. That’s it. You could be on any boat, a yacht, but without the right ingredients—simple and fresh—and not overprepared (which, to me, means no heavy sauces or unnecessary additions)—you’re not in the best position to have a great meal.

Authentic and local blended into one super experience. I walked away with more than that, though. I got the impression that you may be with some people you don’t know well—the captain, the fisherman, the others milling around to help—but who, through food, are willing to open a small window into their world. “Don’t worry too much,” I heard through that window. “Just sit down, eat, and enjoy some time here.”