Sicily Food: Sunday Dinner

It is a Sicilian tradition to go out to eat for Sunday dinner. Restaurants which are closed all week open just for the celebration of food that is this weekly event. This week we decided to participate in the Bacchanal. We first tried the past and pizza restaurant in Alcamo which was recommended by a 'consulting agronomist' Tommaso (our wonderful landlord) introduced us to. Unfortunately, it was closed.

However, all was not lost because on our way into Alcamo on the strangest street (mixed industrial, institutional and farm land with a divided highway 3 blocks long) I had noticed that the gates to a restaurant which had always been closed, were open. "Lo Speranto... Let's try it"; I said. Christopher took the turn and we quickly discovered that it was a very popular spot, i.e. not a parking spot to be had. On our way in we were stopped by an Italian couple who asked us whether we had reservations - they'd been deterred by the automatic gate that didn't open for them. We not only didn't have reservations, we'd parked in a secondary lot littered with 'artifacts'. The Italian couple followed us in, deciding if the anglese were up for it, so were they.

It took a while to find the restaurant and it's front door, the first door we tried was for a private party (a confirmation party we think). We were eventually seated in a smallish room of 5 tables, all of which were occupied by tiny little Sicilians (more on this later) who were still in their winter clothes of pants, sweaters and quilted vests. The table was set with bread and a half litre of red wine. After some initial confusion (we weren't confused, but we managed to confuse the hostess) an English speaking waiter came to explain that the menu was fixed - fixed courses and fixed price of 25EU which included wine and water.

The fixed courses included 10 appetizers, 2 pastas, 3 meat, dolci and fruit. In my naiveté I assumed we'd get a few of these, not all of them. We got all of them. At this point I feel obliged to add that the Sicilians around us also received all of these courses and, despite being mere morsels of humans, all the dishes were consumed, saving an apple and half an orange. We were not such trenchermen as that. I'm sure we must have insulted the cook because of our inability to consume even half of what was brought.

Not only that, but it was over 30 degrees C - and we were melting while our Sicilian counterparts were merely comfortable enough to take off their quilted vests. I think many of my workmates will wish they were here - no space heaters necessary!

The other outcome of this day is we have discovered where the horses who trot by our home each morning live - at the restaurant's stable. One of the horses we see regularly is a gorgeous chestnut brown with a dark mane and one white sock - quite distinctive - and he was there.