April 13, 2015

OK, so the earth can sometimes be a dark and baleful place. But let us sweeten it in any way we can.

“Hello, Signora,” the roving vendor croaks. What do you need?”

This is what we’re eating now:


artichokes, copyright Jann Huizenga

cherry tomatoes, copyright jann huizenga

spring onions, copyright Jann Huizenga

Take heart in the earth’s bounty!

Love to one and all.

Welcome Back Sun

March 27, 2015

Sicily, Sunny Sicily, was underwater most of March. I wasn’t here til three days ago, but i knew the moment I set foot in the house; water washed down walls, the floor was ponding.

But there’s a bright new sky today. Lizards slither. Underwear waves on balconies. Palm and olive branches abound.

Sicily; Hanging Laundry; copyright Jann Huizenga

Olive and palm branches, Sicily

Carrying olive branches on Palm Sunday, Sicily; Copyright Jann HuizengaSicilians are still swaddled in winter gear.

Though tourists are convinced it’s summer.

Tourist in Sicily, copyright Jann Huizenga

Carmelo, my favorite barista in the whole world, is once again serving outdoors. He hasn’t set eyes on Kim for almost a year, and yet he remembered his drink: a doppio, double espresso.

Barista in Sicily; copyright Jann Huizenga

Hope you’re having a great weekend!

Tanti baci della Sicilia,



Summer’s End

September 9, 2014

Cari amici, where’ve you been??? I’ve missed you.

And I miss aromatic streets where sheets billow out like sails. People with olive-black eyes. Sun crawling over the cupola. Loud-mouthed merchants and tiny old ladies. Chaos at the post office.  Jasmine growing wild.

I’ll be back in Sicily before too long I hope, but till then, here are a few more things I miss.


Sicilian Friends

copyright Jann Huizenga

lion fountain

bella figura

attenti al cane wall

Hope you had a wonderful August, Dear Reader, and thanks for stopping by.


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A Cave of Men, and Qualms

July 26, 2014

Around eight in the evening, in a town I don’t know, I pause to shoot this wide-eyed fella and his a wispy beard.

Come on in. Don’t I want to see the club?

I hesitate. Will someone spring on me? Twist my arms and slaughter me?

Man at Club Entry, copyright Jann Huizenga

You have to stoop to get inside the old scratched door. Claw marks?

The place is dusky and cavernous.

He says the name is La Caverna.

I squint and pick my way through the pitch-darkness. Who is lurking at the back of the cave?

It’s only Mr. White Glasses, smoking. Turns out he’s the owner of the cavern.

Mr. White Glasses, copyright Jann Huizenga

Mr. White Glasses leads me toward an even blacker room in the back. Is this where they hold the hostages?

Mr. Little and Friends, copyright Jann Huizenga

But no. There is only sweet Mr. Little and his tame friends playing a game.

Mr Little's Friends, copyright Jann Huizenga

Laughing, chatting, joking. Not even drinking.

I’m charmed.

The fella leads me back out and wishes me a buona serata.

Sicily Man, copyright Jann Huizenga

I almost never feel any qualms about traveling sola in Sicily. But once in a while, if you could read the thought bubble over my head it would say, “Nitwit. Is this really a prudent thing to do?”

Do you travel alone? How cautious are you?


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Mother and Child, Sicily

July 5, 2014

They were strolling hand-in-hand down the street like extras in some Sicilian film. They stepped into the tabacchaio and when they emerged, I went in pursuit. How was it that I’d never seen them before, in this dinky place of 2500 people?

Sicilian Mom & Son, Copyright Jann Huizenga

Concetta handed me her card. Turns out she runs a restaurant called U Saracenu,  in the heart of Ragusa Ibla. I haven’t eaten there since those days when my house was a kitchen-less mess.  The place seemed then like a throwback to a much earlier era, and when I popped in today, nothing in the decor had changed. The previous owner, built like a fridge, used to tell me exactly what I wanted to eat.

“I’d love a big salad, please.”

“Oh no. This no weather for salad. You need hearty fare in this rain.”

And he’d lumber from the kitchen balancing a steamy bowl of minestrone, or ricotta ravioli doused in ragú.

But he has retired, and the chef (Concetta’s hubby) and Concetta are now the proud owners, serving the same old-style, no-nonsense, no-pretense Sicilian fare at prices you’ll like.


Inside U Saracenu, Ragusa Ibla, Sicily, copyright Jann Huizenga

The front room is the lightest room and you sit next to an old feed trough; the restaurant is a former animal stall.








U Saracenu, Ragusa Ibla, copyright Jann Huizenga

Translated, the name means “At the Saracen’s Place”–referring to the Arabs or Moors who ruled Sicily for a couple hundred years.













Chef at U Saracenu, Ragusa Ibla, copyright Jann Huizenga

Chef Angelo Gelasio






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