To escape the heat, we took a cable car up into the mountains to the small town of Erice. The entire town looks like it was carved out of stone.
Sicily suffers from terribly hot dry summers (we haven’t experienced rain in weeks and this is normal), but the town here has taken a cue from the Moors. Alleyways were narrow and homes had small windows to limit sun (and therefore heat). But what struck us most was how similar the streets were to riads in Morocco – you would peer through a non-descript doorway and suddenly see a whole beautiful courtyard, possible for more than one family.
It was wonderful walking through the little streets and peering into the small churches. But the highlight was going to the Maria Dommetico Pasterrichia. Maria grew up in Erice and was sent to live in the local convent with her younger sister when their father died and their mother had no means of supporting the family. Often abandoned financially by the church, nuns turned to pastry making as a means to support themselves. Maria not only learned all the pastries, she was savvy enough to open her own storefront which is the most famous in northwest Sicily. Even today she still sits behind the counter collecting money from customers flocking to the store. Coincidentally, I had been reading a book (recommended by my aunt) about an American who moved to Sicily and stayed; it turns out she knew of Maria and collaborated on a book telling Maria’s life called Bitter Almonds, which I had just begun to read!
Topped off with pastries, and having met Maria in person, we headed off to lunch and a drink. Trip got to try his first arancini (rice ball stuffed with Raghu and fried), one of my favorite street foods. But dinner was the absolute best. We had homemade buchiate (a twisted pasta like rotini) with the local trapani pesto, smothered in strachiatella cheese and dusted with ground and toasted pistachios. Divine!
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