It is a whirling breath, vibrant but soft and noble, rythmic, and it is not a banal noise: it comes from the kitchen, it is the sound of freshly shelled eggs and then quickly whisked by mum Iolanda. And it is an aperitif dance, the signal for papillas and pupils : “Rosà, they are preparing the mozzarella in carrozza for us!” A satisfied flash takes possession of Rosanna’s gaze.
The bright and complicit golden envelop of the fior di latte cheese put with a voluptuous satisfaction on the slice of bread cooked on firewood, which is consistent, intense. The result makes a sprint, for its personality and character, with many specialties of the Mediterranean fried food. And it wins. And I still remember that in the last century the splendid keeper of the secrets of “Neapolitan Cuisine”, Jeanne Caróla Francesconi, made a ferocious rudeness. She dedicated herself with little desire to the description of the recipe: she wrote about “stale bread” and “sandwiches”, maybe under the influence of some rushed city’s feasts…
I remember it well. Eh no, a posthumous bollocking is needed, with all due respect. If we speak about this lady Mozzarella in Carrozza, we need to use capital letters. And, don’t you want to add that Rosalia, 18, accompanies them to the table with a generous flexibility and a smile that make you hope for the future? And the ulterior value is in the path of knowledge that Anna, 24, a cooker with an enthusiastic vocation has already started: the exemplary gestures make the humility of the ingredients triumph. Dad Leonardo Iacono enjoys it seemingly friendly: he is an excellent master! The carefully bread chosen and cut is enveloped the sizzle of the frying, proud of its aroma, until enhancing in the destiny compacted by the fire and the egg white, creating two “islands” on the plate. Dotted with some paper, boiling and light, they silence our late summer talks. And make the idiots of taste be quiet. Old and new ones. There are thousands of them.
My goodness, I am so hungry guys! After a blissful afternoon, spent playing in water balling up a foulard, and then drying myself on the sand of the Fumarole, the wild corner of the western part of Maronti beach, I marked the minutes - while waiting for 7 pm - like a child playing hide and seek.
Here I am, finally, in Cavascura for another appointment of the season at “Taverna Pietropaolo – Stalino” (phone: 081.905870 – 320.6341345), the cave of the cyclical history of appetite and happiness, of naturalness preserved in the form of a trattoria, which I have elected this year at the top of the personal eating ranking. The reason? More than one.
And then, it is not comparable: except for spaghetti with garlic and oil (and fresh chilly), or bucatini; I have always used my hands. I enjoyed, greasy hands, between mopping my plate with bread and dunking, in a sancta sanctorum of minimalist and abundant preparations, perfect therefore: sautéed mussels, clams and razor clams; rabbit sauce; fried poor fish and crunchy salads, to the top of optimism, zeppole… covered with sugar.
Of course, everybody knows about this place, it is one of the myths of Ischia incorporated in the volcano and in the hyper thermal waters. As soon as you take a seat, your sixth sense guides and bewitches you. The interior atmosphere is governed by Vincenzo, who was born in 1993 but is an extraordinary professional, an already veteran who moves between the walls with historic pictures, almost ancestral memories, addressing the regular customers with a strong and aware quality: the genuine welcome. Friendly and elegant, you can see that he is citizen of the world: he studied at the glorious Ischia Hotel Institute… Enzo obtained a diploma with the highest score, writing a thesis on the beautiful book written by my friend Angelo conte and entitled: “Il Principe di Cavascur” (The Prince of Cavascura) which is a hymn to the uniqueness of a land which for Gianni Mura was Cappadocia, mixed with sea and minerals, dolmens, gorges and ravines.
Enzo speaks many languages, in winter he goes abroad to improve his job, as it was in the past. He has something more. I wish Antonio, the younger brother, to really take him as an example… That’s it. The whole Iacono family is reassuring and instills hope.
Although I have a strong worry: how is it possible that in Cavascura you need to go by quad, an off-road vehicle, four-by-four, motocross and so on? Let’s move on, let’s try to keep these vehicles a little further away…
For the rest, the Taverna is as you want it: a literary environment for the subtle minds; a popular destination for the lovers of simplicity and the fanatics of homemade tastes; a confirmation of identity for the narrators of their feeling satisfied globetrotter: a fertile slice of polyglotism that remembers the “Flower Children”, artists and the intellectuals. And it makes you meet, as if nothing happened, because there is no need to hide , the VIPs and the new rich of this Promised Land; the lovers tout-court and on the run; and the lovers of the resilient insularity that adore the good times of the past, although falling into, sometimes, a river of clichés.
I am still here, with Rosanna, in the fresco animated by the loving memory, illuminated by Pietropaolo fable who had the mustache and that frowned Stalin face which earned him a gigantic nickname - swimming in an ocean of mountain hormones - and two wives, Angelina and Amalia. Staline soon became a Super Name, of which the whole world and the human bellies were fed and then filled the memories with a fulfilling experience. Which makes you dream and return. At the beginning, in the amazing den of pleasure, rabbits raised in ditches were celebrated. And I am writing another book about this… And then there was also the frugal antipasto, with salami made with their own hands, followed by "spaghetti" for the customers, who were German, yesterday as well as today. Even those who continue to drink cappuccino in front of a plate of pasta. Damn…
Oh well. Everything started in 1929. By the way, they accept reservations for the Centenary.
