Myself and a few other friends had all said since the beginning of our time in Italy that we wanted to visit Sicily. It came down to the last month and finally everything came together. Joey and I went by overnight train on Friday while the girls would be traveling by plane on Saturday. The train, though affordable, was not exactly the best experience. My cabin was absolutely boiling — probably due partially to the fact that the temperature controls were broken. To make things worse, I was on the very top bunk. Nevertheless, I endured the night and woke up to the train being loaded onto the ferry.

Once the train was secure, I went up on deck for the short journey from Villa San Giovanni to Messina. The early morning light against the silvery clouds was so different than what I had seen in Tuscany, but it was absolutely beautiful. We came back onto land and set off from Messina. As the train drove, we rolled past countless citrus orchards. As someone who has spent most of his life in the urban tundra that is Milwaukee, it was surreal to see innumerable trees laden with ripe, bright fruit in December.

After a fifteen-hour train ride, Joey and I finally arrived in Palermo. We rejoined the girls at our hostel, and after a short introduction of Palermo by the owner, we set back out to find some food. The owner of the hostel recommended Bar Touring, near the coast. At this caffè they made arancine bomba, literally “little orange-bombs” (my rough translation). In plain English, they’re fried rice balls. Arancine are made by breading and deep-frying a ball of risotto and can be prepared with a variety of fillings, such as mushrooms, ragù, spinach, sausage, and cheese. Normally they are much smaller, about the size of a clementine. However, the bomba term refers to much larger ones prepared all over Sicily. These delicious bombs are about the size of a large orange, making just one enough for a lunch. We each bought one and then sat on the edge of the sea, gazing at the nearby ships at port.

Next returned to the city and visited a few of the churches, the most notable being the Cattedrale di Palermo. The lack of marble on such a large and ornate church made it stand out to me. I also thought the sculpture of Jesus inside was quite beautiful with its bursting golden rays. By the end of the day we were all pretty tired, so we had a relaxed night. We ate at pizzeria nearby the theater. It was possibly the busiest restaurant I was in during my whole stay. Despite the commotion it was still enjoyable. There were mostly locals there, so it was nice to have the feeling that I was experiencing a true Sicilian family-style pizzeria.

The following day we decided to visit the Duomo di Monreale, up in the nearby hills. On the way there, we stopped at Pasticceria Capello to try La Torta Setteveli, a world-famous cake made with seven types of chocolate. It is nothing more than a chocolate-lover’s dream. This cake is incredibly rich and not to be missed if you are visiting Palermo.

We continued on to Monreale, and arriving a little early, spent some time looking around the city. When we finally entered the cathedral, I was absolutely dumbfounded. The entire church was beset with ornamental gold, red, and green mosaics. I knew immediately that this was far and away my favorite of all of the churches I had visited in Italy. The sheer amount of time and craftsmanship required to create such a work is simply mind-boggling.

On our final day we decided to visit a nearby beach in Mondello. Our walk to the bus stop gave us a little view of the busier, more commercial areas of Palermo. We even saw one man arguing with another from outside of a bus! Palermo was shaping up to be quite an interesting place. A short bus ride later, we found ourselves on a beach with soft sand and azure ocean. The weather was nothing short of perfect and the sun felt so good while sitting in the sand. Being there in December felt like being in a completely different world.

Our time in Sicily was incredibly enjoyable for me, and was a wonderful change of pace from the end-of-the-year academic crunch. Besides just a change of pace, Sicily struck me as being very different compared to Northern Italy. Two things in particular stood out to me.

Firstly, I noticed that many of the buildings had obviously sustained significant damage at one point in time. There were even ruins of buildings left standing in places. A little research online suggested that these conditions were caused by the Allied invasion of Sicily during WWII. Whether or not this is true I am unsure, but it seems plausible. However, it made me wonder why the buildings had gone so long without being repaired or rebuilt. One website I came across suggested that money for reconstruction had been squandered away by government corruption. Despite all of this, the questions of why became increasingly irrelevant to me as the conditions simply became part of Sicily’s charm. I have always been a fan of old, reused buildings and urban ruins, and Palermo is definitely a treasure trove for that.

Secondly, the way in which people related to one another was a marked difference from my familiar “norms.” It was not unusual to see to guys walking down the street arm-in-arm, or see two friends kiss each other on the cheeks (something that could get you chased out of town in certain parts of the US… or shot). Also, while on the bus to Mondello a young boy (I believe he said he was 5) sat next to two older gentlemen, who were bus drivers. They all began chatting casually, and when the men stood up to leave the boy gave them a hug. All the while, the mother standing nearby acted as though this was perfectly normal, something I don’t believe you’d see in the US. I understand that in a general sense it all boils down to cultural differences, but it was refreshing for me. You could tell in the way that people talked and behaved that they truly cared for each other, even a stranger they just met.

Sicily is very different from Northern Italy, and appears even more so when compared with the US. Some people might not like it — they might talk about the ugly, damaged buildings or whisper about the presence of the Mafia. For me however, Sicily is a place that, despite whatever imperfections, still retains an irresistible charm.

Our time together was quickly drawing to a close. Finals week was creeping up slowly and the final Arcadia-planned trip was that weekend, the 21st of November. Joey, Hunter and I had been tossing around the idea of making a day trip to Assisi. We had all heard great things about the city from various people. We made a last-minute decision to go that Friday and we caught a train heading to Umbria.

We stepped off the train at the Assisi station, but we still had a ways to go. From the station to the city center was about a three kilometer walk. Don’t feel sorry for us, though — the views on the hike up were nothing short of stunning. In retrospect, I enjoyed the walk up and down as much as being in the city itself. We wound our way around the twisted city streets and arrived shortly after at the Basilica di San Francesco.

Francis is quite a legendary figure in Italy. He is obviously known for founding a new religious order and greatly influencing Christian perspectives on nature, but there are a great number of legends surrounding his life and work, perhaps most notably his reception of the stigmata. When one sees the Basilica dedicated to him, there is no doubt that Francesco was a highly respected and venerated man.

The lower level of the church was built first, and the space was constructed in such a way that it feels almost underground. That is not to say that it feels eerie or uncomfortable. The chapel, with it’s low ceilings and frescoed walls lit by candlelight, feels quiet, intimate, and peaceful. The upper basilica seems as though it were created to contrast the lower. Its high ceilings, tall, sweeping arches, and multiple levels of frescoes give the basilica a grand, spacious feel that forces one’s eyes to gaze upwards. The upper basilica is significant not only from a historical perspective, but also an artistic one. Many of the frescoes present were created by Cimabue and his workshop. Additionally, the lower frescoes are attributed to Giotto, although some historians dispute this. All debates aside, it is a truly impressive and beautiful church.

The following day, I went with some of the Arcadia students to Arezzo and Cortona. It was sad to see that not everyone came, but at the same time this made the visits a little more relaxed, which was a nice change of pace. The first place we visited in Arezzo was another church by the same name as the one in Assisi. However, this basilica dedicated to Francesco was much humbler in character. The outer facade and inner areas were much simpler and less ornate. Yet this was a refreshing change from the heavily-ornamented churches seen often elsewhere. Although quite different, this basilica was just as beautiful in its own right.

After some time in Arezzo, we drove on to Cortona. We started at the Santuario di Santa Margherita, a church set at the highest point of the hill, and then descended into the city. Our walk took us along the tops of walls that were built ages ago by the Etruscans. Cortona is a quiet, rustic town. The streets were lined with house after house made of a patchwork of intermingled stone, red brick, and stucco. It’s a strange place in that I cannot point to any certain thing that makes it so beautiful, but it just is. Finally I reached an outlook and was able to see the valley below, cast in a haze and illuminated by the setting sun. I have since returned to the US, but I cannot help but feel that I have left a part of me behind in Cortona.

I love truffles! No, I’m not talking about the kind that come in boxes, wrapped in little pieces of foil — I mean the rare, delicious fungi that is found by specially trained sows and dogs. These aromatic tubers grow, among other places in Europe, in the northern and central parts of Italy, and as such have become a part of the local cuisine. One of the first things I ate after arriving in Italy was Pecorino cheese with truffles, which they served at the Castello Verrazzano winery when we visited. I have been in love ever since. Truffles are powerful in that way. People tend to react quite strongly, either loving or hating them. I have never heard of anyone who thought truffles were “just okay.”

When I saw that Fred’s cookbook had a recipe with truffles, I knew I had to try it. The recipe called for fresh black truffles (tartufi neri) and after asking my Italian professor was directed to a shop that sold them. I knew that they were expensive, but I didn’t know to what degree. After entering the store I discovered that black truffles were €1.00 per gram and white truffles were €3.80 per gram. Think about that for a moment. That’s up to €3,800 per kilogram (2.2 pounds)! With a recipe that called for fifty grams, it was simply too expensive! I decided to compromise and buy some thinly sliced black truffles in oil instead, which were significantly less expensive.

When I returned home I decided to make a half recipe, just in case something went wrong — no sense wasting good truffles. I immediately began preparing the Spaghetti al Tartufo Nero. The recipe is quite simple, calling only for spaghetti, truffles, olive oil, and anchovy paste. The dish was ready in no time at all and I began eating. It was delicious, as expected! I was a bit apprehensive about the anchovy paste, but because it was such a small amount it gave just a little flavor without overpowering.

Shortly after, I decided to use the rest of the truffles I had bought and remembered stumbling across some recipes at the website for 4 Leoni. It seemed a bit strange, because it essentially instructed one to make plain risotto and then add a truffle sauce, prepared on the side. I was used to risotto recipes calling for something to be cooked along with the rice. However, when it all came together none of that mattered. The cream and Parmigiano made the risotto rich and creamy while complementing the truffles perfectly.

If you would like to try the risotto I made, you can find the recipe here. They do not give the quantities to make the risotto, but a six-serving recipe in Fred’s book called for 1 liter of vegetable stock and 450 grams of good rice (Vialone or Arborio work well). I would also suggest having a little extra stock on the side in case the rice takes more liquid to cook (making risotto is not an exact science). For those trying truffles for the first time, it may seem like eating a form of money. But if you love it, it won’t matter and you will gladly eat that currency — delicious, delicious currency.