A Calitri Reverie
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The Stateside Game of "Find the Car" |
This time of year, the sub-freezing temperatures
and biting winds keep us inside. That
goes for both sides of the Atlantic when winter takes hold. Winters in our part of the States are more
severe than in Calitri when one compares snowfall and temperature. While there is scant snowfall to make a profit
selling snow shovels, there is profit to be made selling puffy winter parkas in
damp and cold Calitri. For the most
part, Calitri’s narrow, cobbled streets are largely abandoned until the influx
of good weather and sun-loving homeowners arrive to augment the year-round
residents. Mirroring the timely expectancy
of something like tax time every April 15th in the States, experience has
taught us not to
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A Quiet Winter Calitri Street |
expect the earth to have sufficiently tilted back toward the
sun until the Ides or midpoint of May. By
then,
the sun’s heat reigns once more so that our
thick walls lose their chill, flowers bloom, and scarves have once again been
retired.
In Calitri, we live in the Borgo, which
means Hamlet. It lies in the shadow of a
castle and, for centuries, was all there was of Calitri. An earthquake in 1980 triggered a migration to
the growing modern high-rise accommodations in a newer part of town. The move left the Borgo, today a
growing historical resource for Calitri, practically empty, falling further into
decline and disrepair. Its narrow
streets, designed to accommodate nothing larger than a cart pulled by a donkey,
and the complete lack of gardens or even soil left much to be desired.
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This Gargoyle Serves to Keep
the Borgo Safe |
Some might go so far as to describe
it as early brutalist architecture. The use
of raw, exposed concrete and stone, centuries-old wooden beams and doors, thick
abutting household walls, and the lack of soil are pronounced. There are no vegetable gardens or well-tended
lawns to maintain. “Doing the lawn,” if I
can go so far as to call it that, amounts to pulling a few weeds. But then, this is a medieval setting that I
find romantic, where the view outside our windows takes in the same vistas people
have enjoyed for centuries. In Calitri,
as in much of Italy, wooden structures are repurposed in century-long cycles
rather than torn down as in the States. Only
the inhabitants like us change. Historical
and scenic, it is the kind of place whose picture appears on monthly household
calendars, the kind we imagine when dreaming of Italy. Of course, winter is not totally bleak; there
are occasional winter festivals, especially during Christmas, when the Borgo
is animated with renewed activity. A
nativity scene is staged in a Borgo cave tunneled into the
hamlet’s hillside, with locals dressed in costume, including an infant and farm
animals like a
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The Borgo - Topped by a Castle with Parking
Piazza in the Foreground |
mule, that I wouldn’t be surprised to learn had descended from a former resident Borgo mule.
While building exteriors retain
their historic motif, their interiors cover a gamut of styles, furnishings,
decorative treatments, and colors. Like slow-moving
tectonic plates, the present is gradually draping the past. You don’t know what to expect once through an
ancient doorway. Colors can be
overpowering, especially in the case of tiles, which can overwhelm a room’s
décor. Italians enjoy expressive,
brightly colored tiles, and trend toward complex designs and the artisanal
flair of majolica. Others skip past
traditional styles altogether and, as if to complement their fiber optic
technology, go modern, preferring the strong lines of glass and gleaming chrome
surroundings.
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Our Shower Curtain Wall |
It is unlike our stateside style, but in
the case of our Calitri pied-à-terre, sited in a medieval quarter, it is
expressive of a newfound freedom in styles, furnishings, and decorative
treatments. Neither would we think of
painting one bedroom wall “spaghetti red.”
Caught up in that Italian flair for color, we did. Various maps of Italy decorate the walls of
our combination TV and guest room, along with framed photos. While far from being wildly expressive, our
home’s interior reflects what I’d describe as that simple otherworldly mood of life
of small-town Italia, not to be confused with the verve of big city life.
Another prominent Borgo feature is the
presence of caves cut into the high side of the sloping terrain, reminiscent of
Matera, here refreshingly termed ‘grottos.’
These are not natural openings in the earth with stalactites frequented
by spelunkers and bats but hollowed-out caverns made by men. They were originally used for storage of
everything from furniture to animals. Today,
they shelter an occasional
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Spaghetti Red Wall |
scooter but find a growing use as personal wine
cantinas. When wine isn’t being made, they
serve as private dining areas for get-togethers with family and friends. After all, all that stored wine can’t be
allowed to accumulate. More and more, we
find these grottos repurposed as restaurants.
During festivals like SponzFest, held annually in August, we’ve seen grottos
become pop-up cafes where the soothing rhythms from Woody Allen movies waft
into the street, enchanting passersby into becoming customers. Many nearby have made the transition. Just down the Street from our door are exam-
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An Unrestored Grotto |
ples of cave improvisations. I’ll take you to
one close by
, the L’Antica Grotta, a
charming Italian wine bar restaurant nestled within the ancient walls of a cave. A right turn outside our door, then through a
brief arching tunnel, leads us to Via Pasquale Berrilli, a main artery through
the Borgo beginning in the
piazza by the town hall. Turning right again and continuing along Via
Berrilli, we pass the home of Gerardina Cestone and her flower boxes, which in
summertime bless us with an overflow of colors to emerge in a
piccola piazza
(small square).
The home of our neighbor, Theresa Scoca, and her husband, Vincenzo, overlooks this small square. Hers is a
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Mailbox by our Door,
Tunnel to Via Berrilli |
family name of importance to the
political history of Italy. Over the
years, they’ve become our go-to friends when we need something special, from a
ladder to the surprising need for aninjection when my back went out. Talk about trust, but that’s another
story. Their terraced porch overlooks
this small opening among the Borgo buildings. Evocative of the decorative streamers of some
ancient joust, Theresa’s colorful panoply of laundry usually flutters there in
the breeze. The square’s open space borders
the Berrilli Palazzo and is large enough to host an Aquedotto Puglese water
fountain dated 1914 that supplied families before homes had running water. |
A Pop-up Grotto Cafe
Announces "Here it Is" |
Continuing, we enter a longer tunnel watched
over by a clock with a face on both the tunnel’s entry and exit. Its needles indicate the correct time only
twice a day for it ceased to operate and is ever reminding us of the arrival of
the 1980 terremoto (earthquake). Through
the tunnel and down a gentle slope, we arrive at a junction in the cobbles
where Via Berrilli meets Via Del Re, which begins with a sharp turn to the
left.
We have also arrived at Palazzo Zampaglione, the
baronial palace of the Zampaglione family (cousins of the Bourbons who once
ruled Southern Italy’s Kingdom of Two Sicilies), located at Via Berrilli. Practically opposite the entrance to this
palazzo lies the L’Antica Grotta at 31
Berrilli, an ancient cave where the baron once stabled up to 100 horses. Transforming this cave into a wine bar and
restaurant took the steadfast combined horsepower of planning, drive, and
initiative. As we approached, we found no
catchy signs and appeals to come inside.  |
L'Antica Grotta, Via Pasquale Berrilli 31 |
The Grotta’s entrance confirmed we’d arrived much
like the hole-in-the-wall place in Bologna we discovered once and never wanted
to leave with the simplest of storefront appeals, the single word ‘Vino” scrawled
on a board. Here, to one side without
fanfare and absent any glitz, a surprisingly easy-to-miss five-by-eight-inch wooden
plaque with a flourish of cursive curlicues proclaimed L’Antica Grotta. The opposite side of the entrance held a dangling
lamp with a single bulb housed in what I’d describe as an inverted terracotta
water glass that serves to illuminate the numerals 3 and 1. These humble statements invite you into a
world of rustic elegance, natural beauty, and the finest local cuisine. Stepping inside, the interior is softly
illuminated by warm, golden light, casting gentle shadows that dance across the
rough-hewn stone surfaces, bearing the marks of centuries of history.
Rehabbing a grotto is time-consuming
and, I’d estimate, costly. For weeks, as
I passed by what grew to become the L’Antica Grotta, I’d pause to observe
the progress. I’ve no idea about Italian
construction rules. At home, a
government agency called OSHA (Occupational Safety and Health Administration) would
be apoplectic over the total failure of compliance — no helmets, spotters,
masks, ventilation, and I could go on. I
could see a one-man act high atop a ladder, seemingly the sole performer in a mock
circus act, balanced there, with hammer and chisel, as he chipped away at the
ceiling of this surprisingly lengthy grotto.
With so much yet to go, he tapped to remove the residue of ages, everything
from soot to paint, from the uneven surface of jutting stone arching above
him. I happen to love stonework. Each time I sit beneath this vaulted ceiling,
I recall my earlier visits during construction and marvel at the resulting
artistry. The stone tiara arching over
today’s patrons is the result of the symphony of his million taps, orchestrated
over weeks, undoubtedly resulting in countless stiff necks from the positioning
required.
Hardworking doers Vincenzo
Cestone and his wife,
In the seating area, weathered
wooden tables are set with flickering candles and, occasionally, fresh flowers
foraged from the countryside. This creates
a romantic ambiance perfect for a memorable evening. A leather couch with accompanying side chairs
opposite the counter invites one to relax and enjoy an apparativo, although
in my case, once seated, I sometimes require a helpful hoist to extricate
myself.
In addition to serving as the hostess, Lisa’s daily
schedule also involves working as a beautician, while Enzo is kept occupied as
a mechanic. Along with their burgeoning
family, their restaurant is the
embodiment of a dream to create a restaurant that
celebrates the culture of past and present Calitri.The Grotta’s menu
features a tempting selection of authentic Italian dishes crafted from the
finest locally sourced ingredients. Each
dish celebrates the area's rich culinary heritage, from delicate antipasti
platters to hearty pasta dishes and succulent grilled meats. You will not find Enzo on the menu. He comes a-la-cart and free of charge with
suggestions and a pinch of herb lore. I’ve
heard it said, “It ain’t the oven, it’s the cook.” In
this case, this is so true. In his creations,
Enzo loves to include herbs from his garden, honey from his beehives, or the
results of foraging as he meanders the hillsides for nature’s latest
bounty. Absent a dictionary, it’s
always fun trying to figure out the English equivalent of whatever herb
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Enzo's Bistecca |
Enzo might
be explaining.
With each
visit, we find ourselves unprepared for what is offered as the menu changes with the
seasons. On our first visit, we found battered and
fried cod bites skewered like lollypops, just divine. They quickly became our go-to favorite. Eventually, moving from the surf to turf, we
shifted to steak. It wasn’t your
run-of-the-mill variety but one that challenged Florence’s Bistecca alla
Fiorentina, that renowned slab
of perfectly cooked steak. Enzo’s
char-broiled T-bones are thick and juicy as you would expect, and certainly
enough for two—Maria Elena, with an appreciation for the filet, and I favor the
bone and what remains. Far more
surprising is their cost,
a mere 20€ compared to their 50-60€ Florentine cousins.
While far
removed from Calitri when I began to write this tale a few weeks ago, I was
busy searching through snowbanks, hoping to liberate our car. Since then, with apparent haste, the
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A Different Benedict |
snow has
disappeared. Can I attribute this to the
solar eclipse we just experienced? Was
it Enzo's Bisteccapart of that three-body orbital problem of the sun, moon, and earth that
caused the sun to blink and, with its renewed rays, rid us of the snow? Whatever its cause, the effect leads us
closer to returning to untarnished Calitri and the bounty of the Grotta.
The
food, unique atmosphere, and hosts make each stop
at L’Antica Grotta special. I
like everything about it. As you savor
each sip and bite, you can't help but feel a deep connection to the land and
the people who have called this hillside and its grottos home for
generations. Their smiling spirits
undoubtedly look down on us. At least, I
want to believe they do. It's more than
just a restaurant—it is a journey through time and taste, a testament to the
enduring allure of Italy's gastronomic traditions and those like Enzo and Lise,
who work hard to make it possible and keep traditions alive. We just might see you there.
One final thought: as I finished
this reflection on Calitri, my daughter's colleague had just returned from his
first trip to Italy. She called to share
his text with me, which I now share with you:
“Been
home less than 24 hours, and I miss Italy … Never felt this way after a
vacation … I absolutely loved it there … The Italian lifestyle is right up my
alley.”
And to think, he hasn’t even been to Calitri and L’Antica
Grotta yet!
