A short train ride from Pisa to La Spezia had us out on the street looking for a blue Mercedes. The agent for the owner of the apartment we had rented had volunteered to pick up and take us to Porto Venere. A tall, very attractive American woman yoo-hooed to us from an illegally parked Mercedes indicating that we should hurry...she was stopped in the middle lane of traffic. Bags in the back and heading out of town she told us her story. As a young model she had found work and love in Italy, had two children, a home in the country, olive groves, grapevines and a small real estate business. She talked rapidly, punctuating her English with Italian and gestures.
I'd been in Portovenere just three months previously and watched for the first signs of the lovely old port town...it felt like coming home. I'd had a crush on Portovenere for three months! And now I was coming back with a man I liked and the promise of everything magical that Italy proffered washed over my senses. It was September. Bright orange nets had been unfurled to catch the fast ripening olives; the vast majority of tourists had left (although they came by the bus and boatload almost daily) and we had rented a tiny apartment in the corregio (narrow street) of old town. The plan was for Ray to escape his business and take time to put final edits to a book I had been editing with him for the past 6 months. What better place to finish work on an adventure romance than Italy! And in my book there isn't a more romantic setting than Portovenere.
Our apartment was rented through www.frbo.com and named Attica Aqua. It was reached by climbing 57 stone stairs! (forget Stairmaster) and located in the old corregio, the narrow, pedestrian only, main street of Portovenere. Suitcases trailing we crossed the plaza, through the gates of the once fortified old town and the adventure began. Our neighbors were the residents of the street, merchants, and families. It was a case of out the door, down the stairs and into the street. Immediately to hand were shops carrying artisan cheeses, prosciutto, salamis, olives, wines, fresh baked breads. It was feast for the senses.
 A quick favorite became the tiny shop carrying basic groceries, sublime cheese and cured meats.  Daily visits created a bond between the feisty woman who owned the shop and Ray and I. Given his height he was frequently called into service to get items for her from top shelves. She urged us to 'taste" and keep on tasting. Just a few steps further and we were in the shop that specializes in making the local Ligurian pesto. La Bottega de Pesto owned by the husband wife team of Laura and Sandro. We watched daily as they deftly pushed huge bunches of fragrant basil into a food processor, threw in handfuls of two types of cheese followed by a stream of green, gold olive oil. They also baked foccacia daily and a hot slice, dusted with sea salt was better than any Danish pastry. Across the narrow street another specialty shop, displayed more varieties of olives, olive oils, vinegars, sundries tomatoes and blended sea salts than I had ever before seen, and again, the mandate was to "taste". The entry to the corregio housed to the left a wine shop and daily conversation with the owner had us on a tasting curve to experience all of the local white wines in two weeks! Each visit we were asked to talk about the wine of the previous day, what we liked (there was never anything to dislike) and then, based on our reports, our selection for the day was chosen by the proprietor and eagerly carried home to chill and await sunset. To the right as you enter the corregio of Via Cappellini and up a few steps is the fish shop and what's for sale is entirely dependent upon what the husband of the husband wife team, has caught that day. He heads days when the sea beckons and return with treasures from the sea. A good indicator of if fresh fish is in the offing is to look for his large black dog, when master is out fishing the dog waits by the sea wall! I really never did figure out what the fish was but it was always  delicious. When I explained to the owner that I was cooking in a less than equipped kitchen, she insisted on filleting and boning the fish for me. Clams were sublime but I never summoned the courage to take home an octopus, especially true after I learned that the octopus are beaten to death in a centrifugal force machine or by being pounded on rocks.
Our days quickly took on a routine. Early morning work followed by a walk along the harbor wall to a cafe for coffee...sometimes we'd stay through lunch, working, eating, watching the world go by. Another regular at the cafe was an impeccably coiffed and dressed gent in his seventies I'd guess. His equally soignée wife would drop him off from the pillion seat of a bright yellow scooter with his newspaper and return two hours later to take him home. Or maybe it was much more romantic than that...who knows. Afternoons called for a nap and then the delicious anticipation of shopping for dinner. What the tiny shops couldn't provide, a well-stocked "supermarket" did. Despite the truly tiny kitchen, I managed to produce meals that brought our over the balcony neighbor, Maria, to the trellis one evening to ask, "what are you cooking" A compliment I think. Pasta's tossed with incredibly flavorful oil packed tuna, salads of fresh herbs, baby fennel braised and finished with a light cheese sauce, still jumping fish (certainly by American supermarket comparison) lightly sautéed with roma tomatoes, fennel and juicy red peppers, and an ever changing variety of olives. And always finishing up with a cheese...and w e tried many of them.
I have to caution that in general, restaurant food was run of the mill pasta dishes and the prices high. I’ve read rave reviews of the local seafood risotto but sad to say, mine was overpriced and very dry. Exceptions do exist at both ends of the budget scale. At the far end of the sea wall that encloses the harbor is Le Bocche: - Stunning Italian minimalism décor, superb menu and service, definitely for a special occasion but well worth it. Make sure you check out the rest room…built into the rock and absolutely gorgeous! At the other side of the harbor opposite the general marina and next to the steps that lead up to the back street of town is a small, unpretentious café, coffee house with few tables outside next to the gas station and across the street from the promenade. The owner and his daughter are charming and welcoming, “yes, please use the phone…” on a day when we wandered in, in search of a phone card and stayed for lunch. A sublime house made lasagna accompanied by a glass of prosecco. Morning coffee and lunch there became a habit and on the day we told the proprietor that we were leaving, he broke out the lemoncello for a farewell toast.
A pasta local to Liguria is trofie and is on almost every menu. The best I tasted was tossed with fresh pesto and at the aforementioned small café.
When not editing, people watching or just day dreaming, we took the water taxi along the coast to the Cinque Terre towns and got off for short hikes, lunch, maybe a swim. On two occasions we took the taxi across to Isla Palamaria and hiked for several hours meeting wild goats, exploring the perimeter of what had once been a grand house, and enjoying stunning views. One evening, alerted by a small handbill on the community notice board, we walked the old street and up the rock hewn steps to San Pietro for a harpsichord concert...baroque music never sounded more at home than in this rough-hewn, candlelit church.
I was initially skeptical of being without a car for two weeks but it was quickly apparent that a car would have been an hindrance. For one thing, there was nowhere to park! Buses on a very regular schedule left the plaza for La Spezia and from there you could catch a train to anywhere in Italy. A short digression to comment on Italian trains…when not on strike, and the strikes appeared to be totally random but well publicized, the train service was efficient, relatively comfortable and certainly convenient. Be aware though that official porters are non existent and that at some of the larger stations (Milan is especially bad), someone is likely to ask you what train you are looking for, when you respond, he’ll grab your suitcase, express tremendous concern and somehow convey that you need to follow him at a quick clip because the time has changed and your train is about to leave! Happened to me twice on an earlier trip. Once you are onboard, the “helpful” person holds onto your luggage and demands an exorbitant ransom for his “help”. Another cautionary tale that lends credence to my motto of travel light is an almost complete lack of elevators or escalators in train stations. Non of the above problems were noted at any of the stops along the Cinque Terre line.
Regular boat taxis and small ferries leave Portovenere throughout the day and you can hop one for not only a mini cruise but to any points of call along the famed Cinque Terre. Get off at any stop and either walk or take the train to the next town.
From the main harbor you can also catch a water taxi over to the island of Palmaria for hiking, beach loafing or a romantic dinner where you can eat looking out over the narrow strip of water to Porto Venere…. and the colors at sunset are beyond breathtaking.
Portovenere itself is the ultimate picture postcard town. Wonderful narrow streets leading to stairways winding ever upwards to the magnificent castle dating from the 16th. Century and older fortifications; sea wall walk to the rocky outcropping that is crowned by the Church of San Pietro (1256-1277). The church is built over the site of a pagan temple dedicated to Venus. In the heart of the town reached only by foot is the church of San Lorenzo dating from 1130. A real bonus for visitors is that San Lorenzo is a favorite church for weddings and the bridal party parades through town to and from the ceremony. One of the weddings we saw featured a string of tiny bridesmaids in identical dresses to that of the bride. The groom and his attendants wore kilts and a bagpiper piped them on their way…and yet I heard nothing but Italian being spoken.
It would be against the grain not to at least want to be in love whilst in Italy. And if nothing else you can fall in love with this delightful town…I know I did.
A note on the web site I used to find a rental. www.frbo.com This was the third rental located using this site. Two in Italy and one in the Pacific Northwest, USA. Both Italian rentals were as charming as promised and the locations couldn’t be beat but kitchens were minimal to the point that it was equal to camp cooking. Two burner counter top gas cooker, no oven, 3 pans and one lid! in the Portovenere rental and the owner’s love for nick nacks meant that every surface was covered with some variation of a blue/white seaside theme. Her collection (very large collection) of sun hats, tote bags, shoes and belts adorned every conceivable space in the bedroom, and in the bathroom I counted over 40 partially used shampoos, lotions, potions…you name it, nothing had been thrown out. If going this route I suggest asking very specific questions about the furnishings, kitchen equipment and closet space. Better yet, check in with Connections for Women home exchange!
Kitchen limitations aside, I did manage to cook.
Lora from La Bottega de Pesto
Ligurian Pesto
- 2 large bunches of fresh basil
- 1 handful pine nuts, toasted briefly in the oven
- 1 generous pinch sea salt
- 1 tablespoon pecorino, grated
- 1 tablespoon Parmigiano-Reggiano, grated
- 1/2-cup extra-virgin olive oil
Place basil, nuts, garlic and salt into the bowl of a food processor. Pulse two or three times, add the cheeses, with the motor running pour in the olive oil in a slow, steady stream.
This produces sufficient pesto for tossing with 12 oz. cooked pasta (sufficient for 4 people). Refrigerate unused pesto. Will keep for a few days if tightly covered.
Pasta with Italian Tuna
- 2 6 oz. Cans or jars of imported Italian tuna in olive oil
- 1 large garlic clove, minced
- Freshly ground black pepper to taste
- 1/2 c. of grated Pecorino Romano cheese
- Handful of fresh, torn basil
- 12 oz. medium pasta shells
Bring a large pot of water to boil to cook pasta. While water is coming to a boil, in a large enough skillet to hold all ingredients (including cooked pasta) sauté the garlic in the olive oil, (start with cold olive oil, you want to perfume the oil with the garlic) before it turns brown, remove with a slotted spoon and discard. Break the asparagus into 2” lengths and add to the olive oil, sauté over low heat until tender crisp, about 2 minutes, add the tuna and heat through.
When water comes to boil, salt it generously, and cook pasta according to package directions, until al dente.
Using a slotted spoon, transfer the shells and add them to the skillet with the tuna mixture. Save 1/2 cup of the starchy pasta water to make the sauce. Once you've transferred the shells, sprinkle the cheese over everything and stir gently until sauce is creamy. Add a little of the pasta water if the sauce appears to be too thick. Remove from the heat, gently fold in the basil and lemon zest, serve and pass the black pepper.
This makes enough for 4 servings. Save any leftovers for a pasta salad lunch.
Please don't substitute the canned variety of pasta found in US supermarkets...you'll just have pasta with tuna. With the Italian tuna you'll get ambrosia! You can find Italian tuna in specialty stores and I've also seen it in World Market. This dish is so simple, easy to make and yet sublime.
Photo credits: Barb Skoog, Gerry Hogan
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