Day 325, Agerola, The Amalfi Coast, Italy
If you search for them, you can find the hosts on Airbnb who are exceptional. We call them Superhosts. They hug you, bake you cookies, invite you on hikes, take you over to friend’s homes. On the Amalfi Coast we found such a couple, Juan Carlos and Giovanna. We read their reviews online and everyone had rave reviews. When you’re traveling for as long as we have sometimes you miss interacting with other people, so we decided to stay at their place, with it’s superb location, for 5 days.
Paul reading the pink sport’s paper.
Without exception, in each house we’ve rented in Italy, there was a bag of pasta waiting for us. This is similar to how some French hosts will leave a baguette and a bottle of wine, just the essentials of life. Also in the cupboard is olive oil and balsamic vinegar, and a bowl of candy. The presentation is always different, but those are always present.
This was a short distance from our apartment, and probably the best view from a parking lot we’ve ever had.
The house is in a tiny maze of homes, none of which have driveways. That’s why our gps couldn’t find a way to get us directly to the address we put in. Paul went into a restaurant to ask for directions, and a young man walked him a few blocks directly to the door of the house. Upon arrival, Giovanna and Juan Carlos treated us like the long lost relatives we clearly were not. It was such a warm and friendly welcome. The town isn’t large, so we ended up in the only restaurant we could find that was open, the one where Paul had asked for directions.
Restaurants here open late by North American standards. Paul and I walked to the restaurant to see what the hours were. There was a private birthday party going on, with two balloons, a 1 and an 8. Someone was either turning 18 or 81. Everyone seems to know one another in this small town. The restaurant was opening at 7 pm, but the owner said that since we are guests of Juan Carlos, he would make an exception for us and open at 6, which was in 10 minutes. We were very hungry from traveling all day, so Paul walked back to get the girls and bring them to the restaurant.
While he was gone I sat in the little reception area, which consisted of two small sofas. Initially I was the only one there, but soon, two teen-aged couples came and joined me. The boys sat on the other couch, the girls sat on their laps, and they proceeded to both shamelessly, and rather noisily make out in front of me. It was a the craziest thing. Those may have been the most awkward ten minutes of my life, but for them it seemed totally normal.
The owner was great. He lived in New York City for quite sometime and was very helpful. The Italians typically eat an antipasto course, then an appetizer of pasta, then a meat course with vegetables, a salad course somewhere in there if you are serious about it, then the dessert. I ordered a small salad, a lasagna appetizer, and a personal size pizza. I wanted to try authentically Italian made lasagna and they said the pizza is small, for one person, and the lasagna is an appetizer, so a small portion also. Perfect. Paul also ordered a caprese salad, specialty pasta appetizer and a main course. I thought we had ordered a reasonable amount of food.
Enzo, though, had other plans for us. Since we were Juan Carlos’ guests, he treated us to some appetizers on the house, three giant dishes, one was huge balls of fresh mozzerella, eggplant, and little garlic toasts. After we ate all of those, we were full. I was done. It was over for me. But none of the food we ordered had even come out yet. I was in some serious trouble. Next came the pasta appetizers. My lasagna was not appetizer size, it was HUGE! Like 5×5″. Enough for two people’s main course. It was delicious but I was really full.
Maybe this is the time to mention that when it comes to Italians, often food = love, or at the very least food = hospitality. And you as the receiver, must receive said hospitality, not only accept it, but finish every last bite of the hospitality or it is rude. We were told this in no uncertain terms by a number of people. You don’t leave food behind that has been offered to you.
Yikes, we were in so much trouble. The one pasta dish appetizer we could not finish, and they left it on the table throughout the entire meal all the way through to dessert. Anything that wasn’t eaten just stayed parked on the table. When I pizza showed up, it was not a small personal pan pizza like you would think of at home, but more the large size we get at home. Can one person really eat this entire thing after antipasta and pasta and bread before? Clearly I am not up to receiving this volume of hospitality, it just makes me feel a little ill.
After responding many times that we liked the food, okay, loved and adored the food, but could we please take some of it home? We could tell it was a shameful act, but sometimes you fall short to the cultural standards you’re visiting. It’s time to hang your head and shuffle home…if you can make it that far.
This was Paul’s third or maybe fourth course.
The four days with our Superhosts lived up to the reviews we read online. The first day Giovanna sent up a plate of sweets for all of us. The next day they took Paul on two monster hikes. This area is well known for its beautiful hiking trails that criss-cross the mountains and look out over the Amalfi coast. Every day hikers from all over the world funnel through this town and into the surrounding mountains. From where Paul and I would have coffee in the square each morning we could see busloads of hikers being dropped off.
Some of the trailheads are tricky to find, so it was great that we had our own personal local guide. After Paul went one of the megahikes, they stopped at Juan Carlos’s friend who is a winemaker, Pascuale. He gave them a tour of his cellar, and spoke about the history of his family in this area. They also make olive oil. Paul bought a bottle of red and white wine. He only makes 1800 bottles of both a year.
The second day our hosts wanted to take us out for the famous Naples pizza of the area. There was also another French couple they were hosting, so it was the six of us and Cali went along. Madi is in final exam crunch time and stayed home. We drove down many windy roads to find the restaurant closed due to a death in the family. So we drove further down the mountain to a small family shop who does a different kind of sandwich which can be found no where else in the world. The father is a baker and makes a unique bread, and then they put in all sorts of fresh ingredients. It was delicious and the bread was unbelievable. It had a crunch but was soft at the same time, difficult to explain. Conversation was always good, Cali spoke to the French woman in French, to Juan Carlos in Spanish (he’s originally from Argentina), and we could understand quite a bit of the Italian, at least the words that were similar to Spanish. The other two couple all knew some English and together could usually understand what we were saying. Paul also used some of his French. It was great fun over great food, in a tiny village hanging off a mountain on the Amalfi coast. What better way to spend an evening. We did have a huge doggie bag to take home with us once again, and had to do the walk of shame through all the local people (yes, we still can’t hack your eating standards). Here are the famous sandwiches of the region.
On the last night we were there, we went back to Pascuale’s house because he does a special meal for the hiking tourist groups his brother houses in his small family hotel next door. First we walked up to the castle they are rebuilding on the crest of part of the mountain. It was a spectacular view on three sides of the coast. There were two guys in their late teens where were sitting on the very edge of the cliff, dangling their feet over the edge of a drop of hundreds and hundreds of feet. They were smoking and texting on their phone, just another day hanging out on the cliff’s edge.
On the driveway, we were greeted by Pascuale’s friendly three legged dog. Part of the evening was hearing the winemaking tour in Pascuale’s wine cellar which Paul had already seen. The rest of the group that evening was a hiking group from England of about 17 people. The 15 year old daughter of Pascuale did the presentation in English, explaining how they make wine, the history of their family, answered questions. She was absolutely delightful. During the presentation everyone sampled the two different wines, and there were many appetizers. I paced myself this time. After that we went upstairs into the longer dining room and had a five course meal. I proudly finished, every single bite of hospitality, I might proudly add. I found it interesting that every single region in Italy has their unique form of pasta that they are extremely proud of.
Stairs to the wine cellar.
I was seated next to two women from London and learned a lot about the water quality in Great Britain and about hiking tour groups. Two things I didn’t know before I sat down. The whole evening was amazing. Our little group of six of our hosts, the French couple, and us sat at the one end. We’d done enough activities together that we knew quite a bit about each other. When our host’s daughter joined us for the evening with her fiance, we asked her about her wedding in July. Her fiance had an academic look about him, and we found out that he is a mozzarella maker in his family’s business. Could this evening have been any more Italian, I ask you?
Here were our first two courses, then I got into the conversation and forgot to take any more photos. You may recognize the eggplant, pickled pumpkin and zucchini, and the fresh mozzerella in the center. Everything was extremely fresh and oh so very yummy.
It was after 11 when the limoncello was served followed by some very seriously black looking coffee. The fire in the fireplace close to our table was finally embers. We walked home and said good-bye to the French couple and also to Juan Carlos who was flying out in the morning for business. Because of the people we met, it was one of the best weeks we’ve had. In particular, I will always remember the hospitality I felt here in Italy. The friendliness and warmth of the people of this town, and in particular, our hosts.