World of Cooking

Arrive a tourist, eat your mistakes, go home with recipes for a feast

May 21, 2006|Debra Samuels, Globe Correspondent

MENFI, Italy -- We weave our way out of the densely packed city of Palermo at rush hour and drive south through western Sicily. The road slices through a valley surrounded by huge rocky outcroppings. The sky is a deep blue and green fields stretch ahead like a velvet patchwork bordered by a riot of orange, red, and yellow wildflowers. On a hillside, a herd of sheep is so tightly clustered, it looks like a giant ball of moving yarn.

Our destination is the coastal village of Menfi, an easy 1 1/2-hour drive away, to attend a class on Sicilian cooking taught by Natalia Ravidà and experience an olive oil tasting. Off the highway, at the end of the main road, sits the family's 18th-century neoclassical villa. The sea is just beyond and the smell of salt fills the air. We enter the gates and park in the outer courtyard.

Ravidà is a former journalist and now cookbook author, entrepreneur in the family's award-winning olive oil business, wife, and mother. She will share her family's culinary heritage for the next several hours in flawless English.

Joining me is Nunzia Radenmeyer, a South African whose parents emigrated from Sicily when she was a teenager. Like me, she is a cooking teacher. We both thought it would be great to be the students this time.

On our way to the kitchen, we pass a long marble table surrounded by cast iron chairs where we will take our lunch. A large wooden frame window is splayed open so we can see into the kitchen. Across the courtyard, under a tiled overhang and atop a huge grinding stone cum table, we will do the olive oil tasting. Usually, the tasting is done on the Gurra farm, elsewhere on the estate, where students tour the olive groves and see how the oil is processed.

We will be cooking in the home kitchen -- well equipped but not commercial. Although you are in the hands of a professional, it feels as if a group of friends has gathered to prepare a meal. A wooden spoon is propped inside an antique crock of the Ravidàs' own sea salt from local salt flats. Well-worn copper pots hang from a cast iron rack on a long white wall. The ingredients for the dishes are organized by recipe and laid out on an oval marble island in the center of the kitchen. We gather around as Ravidà explains the day's recipes. She introduces Sicilian cuisine by tracing the influences of some of the many civilizations that came through this storied island -- Phoenicians, Greeks, Arabs, Normans, and Spaniards.

She stresses the importance of seasonal ingredients. With recipes in hand, we begin. Ravidà divides up tasks.

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