Well, we’ve got so much to catch up on. I think, this time, I’ll tell you about the lovely sunny day we had at Sciacca with my sister-in-law and her family.
My brother-in-law is the manager of a Rocco Forte hotel – oops no, I mean luxury spa and resort – which sports two exclusive golf courses, six elite de luxe tennis courts, a luxury olympic size swimming pool and, if you need even more space than that, three kilometers of luxurious private beach (with imported de luxe sand), a Michelin starred chef in each of its various luxury restaurants and of course, for your convenience, a luxury helicopter landing pad by which you may arrive, in luxury. Luxury Luxury Luxury.
If you need any more proof of how luxurious it is, look at this slide show: http://www.verduraresort.com/galleries/resort/
The name of this ineffably luxurious hotel is “Vegetable”. Yeah, OK, it’s in Italian which is Verdura, but that’s what it means, Vegetable.
I wonder if they had a competition among the staff, and let the chef choose this name? Perhaps if the helicopter landing pad supervisor had won, he would have named the place Skids. Or maybe the pool keeper would have liked it to be called Chlorine. The laundry room supervisor dearly hoped it would be named Starch whilst the chamber maids formed a consortium to campaign for the name Tip.
Whatever. We reaped the benefit, because my brother in law has been picking up tips from the chef. And not only on how to cook vegetables! He and my sis-in-law prepared us a banquet. There was risotto with cuttlefish ink sauce and flaked almonds, there were char-grilled courgettes and peppers, barbecued chicken and sausages, octopus and potato salad with garlic and parsely dressing… oh I cannot even mention any more as I feel too full already. It was LUXURIOUS.
After that we played with my cute little nephew, and then decided to take a walk around Sciacca. The town is set on a hill over the coast and therefore has endless opportunities to take in spectacular views out across the open sea. The shops are full of tempting wares, dazzlingly coloured Sicilian ceramics and stylish Italian clothes. And ice cream parlours. Once you have gone beyond the point of no return, there is really no point in fretting over just a few exta thousand calories in a massive ice cream sundae, is there?
So there you have it, a brief outline of my luxurious day out.
THIS POST IS THE FIRST ON MY NEW BLOG SITE. ALL THE PREVIOUS POSTS ARE HERE: http://siciliangodmother.blogspot.it/
I PARTICULARLY RECOMMEND THE POST ABOUT MY SICILIAN MOTHER IN LAW, AKA “THE GODMOTHER”
“Sicilian housewives are scrubbers. Honestly. They spend more time scrubbing things than in any other activity, save possibly ironing. My mother-in-law is a fairly typical Sicilian woman of the older generation. She has a big nose, big hands and a big bottom. When her mansize hands are not busy flaying and massacring vegetables or scrubbing household objects to the brink of oblivion, they fiddle with rosary beads. She goes to church twice on Sundays and is godmother to seven children. The Godmother. She likes to feed children portions of food which weigh more than they do, indoctrinate them in the ways of the Lord and scrub their faces by a method plastic surgeons call ‘dermabrasion.
You would not want to be naughty in her presence. Her hands could probably spank even a decent-sized adult man into low-earth orbit.