Taormina, August, 2017

The most memorable summer of my life arrived early. At 15-years-old, my Italian pen-pal, Gianmarco, accepted the uneven trade of a summer in North Carolina for one in Lombardy and Calabria. Gianmarco’s mother, Sicilian-born Ada, fretted over my happiness and organized a road-trip from their home near Lake Garda to the seaside town of Guardia Piemontese. I spent my days in the sea and evenings on the piazza with friends, surviving on broken Italian and high school French. It became the backdrop for my version of Call Me By Your Name.

Noto was an obvious choice to launch our Sicilian retreat. We were drawn to its Baroque architecture, the prospect of slow food, a stand-out hotel property, and nearby beaches. Yet we felt less sure-footed than usual as so much attention had gone into crafting the perfect family holiday the week before that Gene and I were relying on strategic underplanning more than our usual seamless roadmap. Was our plan to canvass only the southeast corner and Taormina with restaurant and hotel reservations as anchors going to suffice? What if Palermo and Pantelleria had been a better plan? And with thin experience among friends and a relatively dry well from our usual sources, Sicily felt more like a gamble than, say, Tuscany or Lake Como, or even Puglia.

With my first Italian memories still percolating, Mt. Etna faded from view as we cut through the shimmer of Sicilian heat, top down, toward the Baroque hilltown of Noto. As we negotiated our Cinquecento through a narrow, 17th-century gate off a one-way street with little room for error, our retreat for the next 3 days revealed its dignified, tumbledown charm. The secluded, burnt-yellow courtyard - framed by 2 giant palm trees, a vibrant bougainvillea, and a Land Rover with Seven Rooms Villadorata on the back wheel cover - evoked a knowing smile.

Like our recent stay at Villa Spaletti Trivelli in Rome - and most of our favorite hotels - reception was a casual non-event. Surrounded by handmade soaps of local goat’s milk in the shadow of a fulsome bougainvillea, we were shown to our room up a maze-like staircase and series of alcoves through a sanctuary of muted and unmistakable style. First impressions are reliable for us… we were off to a promising start.

Much like France’s Luberon region with Medieval, hilltop towns a short distance apart, Sicily’s southeast corner dazzles. Noto - along with nearby standouts Ragusa and Modica - is among 8 towns that comprise that Val di Noto UNESCO World Heritage Site. Each town was painstakingly rebuilt along with much of southeastern Sicily after a destructive 1693 earthquake destroyed much of the region. The architectural uniformity of Val di Noto towns - and its UNESCO designation - can be attributed largely to architect Rosario Gagliardi. Born in Siracuse in 1698 and remarkable for never having left the island, he launched his career with the cathedral in Modica. Taken together, the towns reflect the zenith of late Baroque architecture in Europe.

In the end, three nights in Noto rewarded us with the simple charms of a grand, quiet town that recovers quickly to its natural state at night once the tourist buses move on to Agrigento and shuttle day-trippers back to their cruise ships in Siracuse. From the otherworldly almond milk granita at Caffè Sicilia, to our early morning swims at nearby Spiaggia di Eloro, to a foodie dining experience at Manna, Noto charmed at every turn with minimal effort.

I discovered La Madia in the Michelin guide searching for a lunch spot between Noto and the Greek ruins in Agrigento. While most Michelin restaurants are too fussy for our barefoot holidays, La Madia felt different. Two things stood out: first, the location was unremarkable which made me think it’s all about the food, not the place; and second, their website.  With an image of a clothesline and a stray cat in a ramshackle, suburban backyard, it was clear La Madia was offbeat. Licata itself had the same gritty feel. Walking into La Madia, we were transported to chef Pino Cuttaia’s childhood and modern calling. The Cloud of Caprese - Pino’s take on the classic Italian pairing of mozzarella and tomatoes - blew us away with a sweet, sweated plum tomato jus inside a light cloud of caprese wrapped in milk skin. The starter alone was worth the trip, as was the pizzaiola of pine cone-smoked codfish. La Madia easily joined the ranks of our favorite meals the world over.

The nearby Valle dei Templi (Valley of the Temples) in Agrigento mesmerized with its mythology and history in the same way Clash of the Titans piqued my curiosity years before. From a promontory overlooking the sea on Sicily’s southern coast, it was easy to see why the Greeks erected the Temple of Concordia - a Doric gem built between 440-430 B.C. - in such a handsome location. We spent the late afternoon and early evening watching the temples bathe in the filtered, late afternoon light before watching the sunset from the pool at Hotel Villa Athena - notable for its unparalleled location inside the archaeological park.

A day later in Taormina after a half-day road-trip, we surveyed the city from an intact, third century BC Greek amphitheater high above the tourist fray. With views of Mt. Etna belching smoke, medieval churches, and a stockpile of old-world hotels, it was plain to see why Taormina remains a tourist staple - Sicily’s answer to Santorini with equivalent crowds. More tourist destination than living town, Palermo and Cefalu are on our agenda for the next trip.

As for the calculus around Agrigento and Taormina over Palermo and Pantelleria, we would have needed more time for the latter as Noto could have been extended another day, particularly to have tested out Seven Rooms sister property, Country House Villadorata. And while Taormina’s setting is nothing short of spectacular, if you are not a fan of crowds - or of having to consider the notion of “high season” - set your sights elsewhere, particularly the north coast. As for underplanning Sicily with hotels and restaurants as anchors, we cannot think of a better approach.