When you live, breathe, eat and sleep food, it can sometimes be hard to muster excitement. This doesn’t mean I’ve grown weary of food and all it involves, it just means that it takes a little extra or a tiny bit of sumthin’ sumthin’ to really knock my socks off. Not that they need constant knocking off. They don’t. I’m happy with plain most of the time.

The pleasures of food and discovery happen when you least expect it. I can remember a moment 20 years ago when I had my first Meyer lemon and I thought the earth would swallow itself. My mind was expanding with each taste of that glorious citrus and I knew life would never be the same. The same can be said of having Jamon Iberico de bellota, a proper supplì, even Wisconsin cheese curds for the very first time. I can count those moments on one hand.

Last month in Italy I had another one of those moments at dinner. It was a fish dish with a very simple aioli––or so I thought. It turns out that the aioli was made with Colatura, an extremely flavorful Italian condiment made from fish and salt. My eyes must have given my excitement away as our dinner neighbor Fabio looked at me and said “It’s Colatura. There’s Colatura in here.” He explained how it’s made, telling me fish sauce has been used for thousands of years in Italy.

“You mean like Garum?” I asked.

“Exactly” he replied.

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I’ve read that Colatura is a relative of Garum, that pungent fish sauce made by fermenting fish in the bright Italian sun. But if Garum is the loud in-your-face uncle, Colatura is the mannered and finessed younger cousin. It’s made by taking anchovies and layering them with salt in wooden barrels. A weight is placed on top and as the fish lose their liquid it becomes mixed with salt and collected underneath, resulting in a light amber liquid that’s lighter in color and flavor than your standard fish sauce. It takes a few months to gather the essence but it’s worth the time and effort.

Now before you email me and call me an Asian fish sauce hater, please note that I’m a fan of all types of fish sauces. They make their way into my cooking and if you know me I put Nuoc Mam on anything and everything (flank steak and potatoes, watch out). But with Colatura, well, it’s magic. What else explains how fish and salt go in but Grand Umami Magic comes out? It truly is a magical genie in a bottle.

Regretfully I left Italy without picking up a bottle (I think I was drunk at the time). I kept kicking myself after I got home and realized nothing would work in its place. I wanted some and I wanted it badly. Luckily Zingerman’s came to the rescue, stocking bottles with a price that reminds you of how special it is just in case your tongue forgets. But you know what? It’s totally worth it. There’s nothing like it.

I used mine as Zingerman’s recommended and mixed it with a little olive oil, red chili flakes and parsley. Spaghetti cooked al dente was tossed with the fragrant golden mixture and I felt like I was back in Naples. There’s just enough fish essence to create intriguing flavor and add salt to the pasta,  similar to adding an anchovy to dressing or sauces.

I have vowed never to be without this stuff in my pantry. Obsessed? No way.

Spaghetti with Olive Oil & Colatura

Trust your cooking instincts on this recipe, folks. Cook your spaghetti as you like and toss with a sauce made of 3 tablespoons high quality olive oil, 1 tablespoon Colatura, chopped garlic, chopped parsley and red chile flakes. You can adjust the quantities based on your preferences but start light on the Colatura. A little goes a long way. I haven’t tried this on greens like spinach or chard yet but I can only imagine how delicious it is on vegetables.

Matt’s Notes: I haven’t seen it in many specialty or gourmet markets here but purchasing Colatura from Zingerman’s is a safe bet. Those folks are awesome.

It was one of those emails when you find yourself stumbling for the “reply” key. I couldn’t seem to hit it fast enough when I read it.

“The Iaccarino family would like to invite you to their home to help create an interesting and stimulating conversation on themes related to food, wine, and hospitality.”

I clicked a link within the email that took me to the site of Don Alfonso 1890.  My jaw dropped, I may have even lost a cup of coffee from my hand, I can’t exactly remember. What I do remember was a website of a hotel in Sant’ Agata sui due Golfi between Naples and Positano and after a few clicks I realized it would be impossible for me to say no. Add to that the promise of getting to visit with Sigrid, Nicky & Oliver, Keiko, Chika and Alessandra and there was no way we’d miss it.

I woke up the other half with “Hey, we’re going to Italy in October. Jot it down.”

Don Alfonso 1890 is a hotel and restaurant owned and operated by Livia and Alfonso Iaccarino. But to simply call it a hotel or only a restaurant would be selling it short. It is a special place in a dream destination, a property filled with so much heart and spirit in every corner that it’s not quite believable. In fact I think I’m still pinching myself.

We spent a few days in Rome with our dear friend Keiko and took the train to Naples where we met up with the blogger crew. From there we took the 90 minute drive up small curvy roads and through small towns that were all postcard-perfect. Once we made it to Sant’ Agata sui due Golfi we turned into the Don Alfonso 1890 where it took me a few minutes to pick myself up off of the ground.

Don Alfonso 1890 is a hotel and restaurant that was started by Alfonso Costanzo Iaccarino in 1890. It is still family owned and operated by his grandson Alfonso and wife Livia with their two sons, Mario and Ernesto. With a family background in hotels and hospitality it was a natural family business to keep but over the years Alfonso and Livia have made changes. They’ve added a cooking school in a separate kitchen and created state-of-the-art facilities as well as a luxury hotel. Once there I found it hard to leave.

Sant’ Agata sui due Golfi is located high in the hills that overlook the Sorrentine peninsula. The peninsula is located between the Gulf of Naples and the Amalfi Coast, and if visions of gorgeous swatches of Mediterranean colors and scents of the ocean and lemon trees pop into your brain as you read this then you certainly can imagine the beauty.

The hotel covers a significant portion of property, opening up into a courtyard that is centered between the cooking school, pool, hotel/restaurant and guest house. Olive trees, herb gardens, fragrant flowers and beautiful shrubbery were almost enough to keep us out of our room. But I said almost.

Ah, the room. That room. The hotel’s seven rooms are named after native herbs and happily we were nestled in the Lavanda suite. Calming shades of purple and lavender met energetic fuschias and persimmons and proved what I have known to be true my entire life: Italians have a way with color like no other. If you don’t believe me just ask that da Vinci guy or any member of the Missoni family.

The restaurant and rooms all feature elements from local artisans. There were beautiful chandeliers, colorful tiles and tableware all from the area. This is very important to Livia Iaccarino––she celebrates the art and bounty of her environment with such gusto that it’s difficult not to be swept up in her passion.

But it’s not solely the views or the dining room that make Don Alfonso 1890 so magnificent.  It’s the food and all its history and passion and the fact that most of it is grown right up the road. More about that in a few.

We spent three days with the Iaccarinos, getting to know their philosophies on food, life and hospitality.  There is something so powerful to me about being immerged in someone’s world with such distinct views and experiences. In a way it lets me get out of my own space and see through their eyes. The Don Alfonso world is so rooted in their past but with a curiosity, interest and embrace of the future, both simultaneously old world and new. The fact that they invited a group of food bloggers to spend the weekend with them proves this point. Spend a few minutes with them and you also learn one family mantra rather quickly: quality. There’s not a moment when this guiding principle disappears and you realize that quality needn’t be an unattainable concept. Do the absolute best you can with the ideal ingredients at all times.

Meals were really out of this world and it’s moments like this when I wish I was a writer. Lunches consisted of tasting menus, dinners were filled with several courses and a very special wine list featuring selections from the area. It was a mindblowing combination of extremely high end dining featuring local foods like fish, olive oil, mozzarellas (and yes, more on that experience later, too!), tomatoes, lemons, herbs, eggplant, eggs and much more.

We were encouraged to spend time in the kitchen as no area was off limits. This wasn’t an exception just for us, either. The entire family is proud of what they do and encourage everyone to understand the effort they’ve gone through to present once-in-a-lifetime experiences. I certainly wouldn’t mind cooking in that kitchen!

With a storm passing over Italy we took advantage of inclement weather by spending Saturday in the cooking school. We donned our Don Alfonso whites and spent the day discussing ingredients, cooking methods and learning how to prepare a few of the restaurant’s favorite dishes. It’s very interesting to note that the kitchen has shifted away butter and animal fats and uses almost exclusively olive oil and tapioca to thicken sauces. It’s another example of these two worlds, old and new, coming together at Don Alfonso.

We learned how to make their Vesuvius,  a pasta dish of rigatoni filled with small meatballs, “fior di latte” and basil on a light San Marzano tomato cream. It was really a fun dish made to resemble Mt Vesuvius, complete with the eruption of lava. I think the group let Adam join the demonstration on this one because it did require some styling.

Lunch was one of the highlights of the weekend for me. The hotel brought in a pizza maker from Naples who’s made pizza for 40 years.  He created perfect pizzas in the outdoor oven one at a time, each one of us taking piping hot pizzas consisting of nothing more than wood fired dough, tomatoes, mozzarella and basil. Even the oven used olive and lemon branches for fire. I will forever understand what the best pizza in the world is all about. The flavors were unique and simple with a texture between chewy and crisp. At that moment in time I needed nothing else. Oh, a beer perhaps.

And now a note about tomatoes. Grown in the volcanic soil in Mount Vesuvius’ backyard, these bright red beauties landed on my tongue and went straight to my heart. Sweet but not too sugary, very earthy and minerally, with a firm texture that maintained its pointy shape without being too toothy. If there is only one thing I will remember from my trip it’s that a perfect tomato transcends the fruit & vegetable category and chopped tomatoes on top of toast is a perfect breakfast. Ok, so that’s two things.

Back in the early 1990s Livia and Alfonso Iaccarino purchased an area of land on the peninsula at the edge of the coast and began a garden.  Le Peracciole supplies their restaurant with organic produce and exemplifies the farm-to-table concept, something they’ve been doing for years. Hilly and wild, this terraced land is covered in olive trees which are harvested annually for what is perhaps the best olive oil I have ever tasted in my life. Eggplant, artichokes, sorb apples, figs, herbs, tomatoes, table grapes, and lemon trees are scattered throughout the farm, and the chickens that supply Don Alfonso with eggs live right next to Josefina and Sabatino, the Iaccarinos’ goat and extremely playful cow. We closed the weekend with one last amazing dinner after spending the afternoon on the farm.

What makes this organic garden so scenic isn’t just the small paths carved into the hillside or the bright yellow dots of Amalfi lemons but the island of Capri, resting right off the coast. Now who wouldn’t want to garden here? Pure heaven.

Endless gratitude and appreciation to Alfonso, Livia and Ernesto Iaccarino of Don Alfonso 1890 for their hospitality and such splendid care. Also thanks to Fabio Fassone, Cristiano Pellillo and Andrea Vaccaro for everything. And Delta Airlines, yea, you deserve a shout out for taking such good care of us. So there.

Coming up: A tour of the only organic buffalo milk mozzarella producer in Italy. And if you must know now, yes, it was better than anything else I’ve ever had in my entire life. How’s that for superlatives?

We’ve just returned from a quick trip to Rome. It was an amazing adventure filled with food, wine, stellar company and a few amazing side trips that I’ll be blogging about shortly. But in the meantime, please enjoy this guide to not letting your eyes and stomach get the best of you while roaming around the city. Because folks, I only have your best interests in mind and would hate for you to pack on an additional nine pounds  (you read that right) while visiting this amazing city. Let this be a lesson to you and plan accordingly. I happen to do gluttony very, very well. I’m sure the Pope would have something to say about that.

In all sincerity there is pure pleasure in being surrounded by people so passionate about the food of their country.  We were never short of suggestions and everyone was so gracious about explaining what makes their food so special. For me it was an eye-opening experience and one I hope to relive again very soon.
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Ignore the Three Dinner Rule

Was it sheer excitement? Stupidity? Taking advantage of a good thing? You decide. But having three dinners in one night might have something to do with it. But could you blame me? With our useful guide and best friend Kristina we found ourselves stopping for pizza on the street, salumi, cheese and wine (with snacks!) and some gelato before ever making it to the restaurant. And then dessert.  I’ve been on Tapas Crawls in Spain before but I really outdid myself here.

Don’t Drink Five Cappuccinos A Day Out Of The Realization That You’ll Never Have Anything So Perfect Ever Again.

And this doesn’t even touch the shots of espresso I had after that. But when you are in a place that does coffee so remarkably well, each drink served with such perfection you can’t say no. And that seems to be the way things go for me in Rome: familiar and comforting but executed perfectly, like a dream where nothing bad happens. That doesn’t mean one is immune from bad food in Rome (a dinner of mediocre pizza confirms this) but chances are you can’t go too wrong with coffee here.  And because of this I’ve been sufficiently caffeinated the entire time. Hallelujah.

Skip Eating Tons Of Gelato For “Research” Purposes.

I’m in the food business. I have a food blog. I owe it to myself to eat as much gelato as possible so that I have a decent point of reference when discussing it with others, right? It was this excuse that I hid behind as I sampled my way through gelaterias across Rome. And while some were significantly better than others I will most likely never tire of ANYTHING. NOCCIOLA. EVER.

Lose Control When Passing Every Pasticceria

You could do what I was not able to do and pass every pastry shop along the way, stopping only when you are hungry for something sweet. Or you could dart into each shop “just because”, picking up a handful of pastries because who knows if you’ll ever see them again. My hands-down favorite was the Plum & Cherry Crostata from Innocenti, flat little tarts of crisp buttery pastry sandwiched around tangy fruit jam.  And those brutti ma buoni cookies were absolute heaven.

Pizza On Every Street Does Not Mean EAT Pizza On Every Street. Or Don’t Let That Supplì Go To Waste.

Pizza Culture in Rome was quite different than what I am used to. Because of this I needed to stop several times throughout the day and sample as much Pizza al Taglio  as I could fit into my mouth. These large, long pieces of pizza are cut to order, depending on how much or little you want. A favorite was Broccoli e Salsiccia and Marinara with anchovies. Wrapped up in paper, these square pieces of pizza would have satisfied my hunger perfectly had I ever been hungry. I never was and I wonder why.

You Needn’t Stop In Every Wine Bar In Rome Just Because You Can.

I told myself that between photographing the ancient ruins and walking for miles that I worked up a wicked thirst that could not be quenched by water but only special grapes that have been pressed, aged, bottled and served in glasses with stems. And my god my little self-lie worked! Each day there were quick visits to local wine bars, some hip and trendy and some just regular spots. I stuck to Italians the entire trip (natch!) and not once made notes of what I drank. Sad, isn’t it? Guess I must return and do it all over again, this time with pencil and paper.

Overloading On Fruits & Vegetables Doesn’t Count As Gluttony. Or Does It?

And that is because they are good for you! And you know what makes them better? When they’re battered and fried.  Let’s just say I became close friends with lots of Fritto Misto. And yes, I’d do it all over again in a second. Now if you’ll excuse me I must unbutton my pants.

Thanks to my friend Kristina for the piggish photo of me licking an anchovy off my lip. More Italy to come shortly!