Trattoria Maria

It was quickly becoming clear that if you were not a lover of anything edible from the ocean, then this coastal area of Sicily would be hugely challenging. So, as I continued to plough headlong into another feast of fish, my wife resigned herself for another long lunch watching me deliver plate after plate of food to my expectant stomach." How do you manage to eat all that food at lunch?" would be a typical question she would pose. For me it is easily justified, for one has to be prepared to find room for one's curiosity. Without curiosity, I would be lead into a world of mediocrity and to the nearest McDonald's, of which, there are, alarmingly, a growing number on Sicilian shores.
Trattoria Maria is a little gem of a restaurant, discreetly found on the descent into Porto Empedolce and hosted by a bustling lady, full of passionate enthusiasm that bubbles like Mount Etna. I watch as plates of pasta, risotto, grilled fish and highly scented melon appear from the kitchen, delivered to tables dominated by the male species. Alison chooses a solitary plate of spaghetti con pomodoro, while I plump for taglioni con calamari e basilico and grigliata die pesce locale. The perfumed, highly scented pounded basil blends with a good glug of olive oil, which clings to the firm pasta and strips of meltingly soft, that has few ingredients but maximum impact. Alison's spaghetti bursts with sweet tomato flavour and assisted by a sprinkling of local pecorino cheese. The fish,purchased from local boats that morning, is unrecognisable to me. Three highly charred fish, cooked on the bone and rubbed inside with rosemary were delivered accompanied by only lemon wedges and a simple chopped lettuce. She reels off the names in Italian, then scribbles them in my notebook and then disappears. She returns minutes later to present a wide selection of gleaming fish and scribbles the name of all them in my book also. Her young son interrupts briefly, informing his mother that she has missed one out." The best fish, is a small cod that is caught locally" she tells me. " We have none to day but you must try it if the opportunity presents itself" she insists. At least, that's what I think she said.
You see melons everywhere here and I follow the lead of the table next to us and order a portion for us to share. The last of the yellow skinned variety had been served, so we had to settle for the orange fleshed cantaloupe, which she presented whole for me to smell and approve before cutting. Juicy, sweet and perfumed, it was a mouth quenching way to finish.
A decent shot of espresso for me and a decaff for Alison and two hours had floated by,as we took our leave and promised to return another day.