Sunday, December 18, 2022

 


Postcard From New Orleans

I recently visited New Orleans and it was a great time to be there - not for Mardi Gras or Jazz Fest, not during summer, not for any holiday at all.  Among my five other traveling companions (my husband, my brother-and-sister-in-law, and two friends) I was the only one who hadn't been to the city before, so it was a first for me.  We checked the weather forecast a few days in advance, and then again early in the morning on the day of our departure, and there was no discrepancy that it was going to be a chilly, overcast day with some rain.  We landed and there wasn't a cloud in the sky, the sun was shining bright, and it was in the mid-60s.  Apparently, it had rained earlier in the morning, but we later learned that this is quite typical, and the locals all know that the forecast is changeable, even within the same day.  

The locals also know that no one uses the standard directions of north, south, east, and west in New Orleans.  Because the Mississippi River curves through the city, and doesn't flow in a straight north-south or east-west direction, people define direction by the Mississippi and Lake Pontchartrain.  Therefore, instead of north, there is 'lakeside' (referring to Pontchartrain) and instead of south there is 'upriver' or 'uptown' (west) while 'downriver' is east.   Plus it helps to know where the Gulf of Mexico is.  It's confusing at first, but eventually you get it.   

We stayed at the terrific Henry Howard Hotel in the Lower Garden District.  Henry Howard was a prolific 19th century architect and his work may be seen throughout the Garden District and much of Uptown as well as a few places downtown.  Howard was a fan of Greek and Roman architectural elements but he designed shotgun houses, grand mansions, commercial buildings, and houses of worship (a good book for delving into his work is Henry Howard: Louisiana's Architect by Robert Brantley, co-published by the Princeton Architectural Press and The Historic New Orleans Collection in 2015).  The Hotel was not designed by Howard but is a very attractive building that also dates from the 1800s and is in a quiet location on Prytania Street, one block from the St. Charles streetcar.  The main first floor room, with a bar, has lots of comfy chairs and is a lovely place to sit - it's also where coffee and tea are served every morning.  Guestrooms are large, nicely appointed, and feel of the place, and the staff is welcoming, helpful, and eager to make sure guests have a nice stay. The #wheretogeaux - a local guide featured on the hotel's website - is excellent, with dozens and dozens of worthwhile recommendations.  Additionally, there is a 'Walk the Garden District' self-guided walking tour available on the site for $18.  

On our first afternoon we went on a great tour of the city with Celebration Tours.  Our guide was an amateur historian and very knowledgeable, and the tour was very thorough, taking in Basin Street Station (the tour begins here), the French Quarter, Treme, Armstrong Park (formerly Congo Square), Lake Pontchartrain, the central business district, the Garden District, City Park (with a stop for beignets and coffee at an outpost of Cafe du Monde), and Metairie cemetery.  The tour is especially good for learning the geography of the city.

We enjoyed meals at Paladar 511, Bayona, Casamento's, Molly's Rise and Shine, Acme Oyster House, and Galatoire's - Friday lunch is the time to come to Galatoire's (after a Ramoz gin fizz at the bar at the Roosevelt Hotel) but we had to make do with lunch on Saturday, which was big fun.  There are three floors at Galatoire's but the first floor is where you really want to be, at least if it's your first time.  The day we went it was super loud - nearly every table was taken by a bevy of young women who were all dressed up and wearing holiday tiaras and hats - but it was also super entertaining.  The menu has all the New Orleans classics you might expect, but don't miss the café brulot at the end of your meal!   

We also enjoyed rounds of absinthe at the Old Absinthe House in the French Quarter, sazerac at Pat O'Brien's, Negronis at the Hot Tin bar on the roof at the Pontchartrain Hotel (a block from the Henry Howard Hotel), and Pimm's Cup at Napoleon HouseCane & Table is also an excellent bar (and restaurant) near Jackson Square.  There are so many specialty drinks in the city that you really have to plan out your evenings or you can end up drinking the equivalent of a Long Island Iced Tea and be quite unwell the next morning.  I regret we didn't make it to Bacchanal in Bywater, which had been highly recommended by a friend who is from the New Orleans area.  So many bars, so little time.  

Bourbon Street is fine to walk along exactly once, though it's hard to escape entirely as you often have to cross it to reach somewhere else you want to go.  Frenchmen Street is far preferable, especially for The Spotted Cat club.  The highlight of the visit for me was a performance of the Preservation Hall Jazz Band, which was awesome.

Without doubt, the very best preparation for a trip to New Orleans is the outstandingly wonderful book Unfathomable City: A New Orleans Atlas by Rebecca Solnit and Rebecca Snedeker (University of California Press, 2103).  This edition is one in a small series (other editions feature San Francisco and New York) that I wish would grow into a very large series.  Solnit and Snedeker are joined by 40 other  contributors to create a thought-provoking compendium that is an all-encompassing picture of New Orleans.  Each themed chapter is introduced with a map that illustrates that particular theme and how it's relevant to the history of the city.  Readers discover so much here, some really good and some really awful, shameful things; but as the two Rebeccas explain in the Introduction, "fathom" is an Old English word that originally meant outstretched arms and an embrace by those arms, and it came to mean a measurement of about 6 feet, the width a man's arms could reach, as well as the embrace of an idea.  "To fathom is to understand...New Orleans is all kinds of unfathomable, a city of amorphous boundaries, where land is forever turning into water, water devours land, and a thousand degrees of marshy, muddy, oozing in-between exist; where whatever you say requires more elaboration; where most rules are full of exceptions the way most land here is full of water...No matter how deeply you come to know a place, you can keep coming to know it more."      

      

Decorations on Saint Charles.


Saturday, November 5, 2022

 










For my birthday, in September, I spent a night at the TWA Hotel at JFK Airport.  That might sound a little crazy - I mean, I live about 39 miles from the airport and I wasn't flying anywhere - but trust me, the hotel is incredible!  The entire experience is meant to evoke 1962, the year the TWA Flight Center, designed by Eero Saarinen, opened.  The website is very thorough (and is really hard to leave) so I won't fill this post with many of the same details.  Before you even enter the hotel, you have an inkling of what's in store: outdoor speakers are playing '60s tunes and a vintage turquoise camper van is permanently parked on the sidewalk.  Parking attendants are nearby so if you arrive by car (like my husband and I did), you will need to pay $60 for the night, which is a little less than the regular airport parking.  Once you enter the hotel, the check-in area is to the left and the Food Hall is to the right.  The '60s soundtrack is on continuous loop and is great (though I suspect the hotel staff must tire of it). The Sunken Lounge is directly ahead up a flight of stairs and there is a fake flight board displaying arrivals and departures - not digitally (how dull) but with flaps that make a clickety-clack sound when they adjust, the way airports and train stations once displayed this information.  Also on the Sunken Lounge level is the TWA Shop (don't miss it), the Photo Booth (also don't miss), TWA Fitness, the wall of pay phones (remember them?), and the Twister Room.  Yes, a giant Twister Room!  This is also the level where you access the hotel rooms (Saarinen Wing on one side, Howard Hughes Wing on the other).  If you haven't figured out by now, you have to make a plan in order to see everything...   





...because there's a lot: Connie Cocktail Lounge (in an actual plane), Camp TWA (with giant Jenga, corn hole, bumper cars, and a runway rink), the rooftop pool (open year round), the Ambassadors Club (with a number of secret alcoves!), and the exhibits (Historic TWA Ground Crew Uniforms, The World in 1962, Howard Hughes's Office, 1962 Living Room, Eero Saarinen's Drafting Table and Office) which are all terrific and were curated in conjunction with the New York Historical Society.  



    


                                    1962 Living Room













As the hotel connects with the Jet Blue Terminal 5 and the Airtrain, people are coming and going all the time; some have layovers (like a former TWA flight attendant we met), some are just walking around, and some are there to attend a wedding (like the one we saw in the Sunken Lounge).  As a result, many people also have luggage, and our friends Pat and Linda, who had stayed at the hotel previously before an early morning flight to Jamaica (and who are the inspiration for my visit), had the brilliant idea of bringing a small bag on wheels and filling it with ice cubes, gin, wine, tonic, slices of lime, and snacks.  We made no secret of making our own drinks out in the open and no one seemed to care. It's especially fun to hang out in one of the secret alcoves with a portable bar!  Without one, there are food and drink options aplenty, including at the Paris Café by Jean-Georges and the Lisbon Lounge.

The wedding party left the Sunken Lounge for the Constellation Ballroom, an entire wing of the hotel that I didn't see due to this party.  Apparently there is a section called the Fab Four because of course The Beatles flew on TWA when they came to New York in 1965. 


For anyone who lives in the New York metropolitan area, going to the TWA Hotel is a great day out (you don't really need to spend the night, but the guestrooms are worth mentioning because while basic, the beds are comfy; the bathrooms have great showers; and the bar has real glasses and glass ice buckets).  There is no fee to walk around the whole hotel, including the exhibits, but there is a fee for the rooftop pool (worth it).  And if you have friends or family who are flying into New York via Jet Blue, meeting them at the hotel will be a long lasting memory.  [Note that there is one more night of Pickleball for the season, on the tarmac near Connie, this Friday the 11th.]  It's all a reminder that airplane travel used to be an event itself - passengers used to dress up for a flight, and getting to a destination was part of the excitement of a trip.  Flying may no longer be as novel and thrilling as it once was, but spending time at the TWA Hotel reminds us that decades ago, it truly was remarkable.      




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Friday, October 7, 2022

Back in July, good friends Lisa and Peter renewed their wedding vows (36 years!) on Grand Isle (an island in Lake Champlain) in Vermont at the North Hero House Inn and Restaurant. The weekend was special, fun, and memorable for so many reasons - my husband and I saw friends we hadn't seen in a few years and we met some wonderful people who are now new friends - and apart from our time spent at North Hero House we enjoyed good meals at Blue Paddle Bistro, the Kraemer & Kin outpost at the Alburg Golf Club, and the Farmhouse Tap & Grill in Burlington.  And we had to make a stop at Seb's in South Hero for a unique selection of postcards, greeting cards, culinary specialties, T-shirts, and gifts of all kinds (it's easy to spend a lot of time at Seb's).   

The celebratory weekend was also an excuse to visit Thousand Islands, where we've talked about going for years.  Thousand Islands is so named because there really are a thousand (actually even more than 1,000) islands in the Saint Lawrence Seaway, which runs from the Atlantic Ocean to the Great Lakes region of the U.S. as far inland as Duluth, Minnesota.  Some of the islands are tiny, just big enough to hold a small house and nothing else, except a boat.  We learned that most of these small islands are vacated during the winter months but there are definitely some people who live there year round. The border between the U.S. (New York) and Canada is in the middle of the waterway, so people who live on the New York side can't simply get in their boat and go visit their friends on the Canadian side, and vice versa.  They can all get in their boats and stay in their boats, but they can't disembark, so crossing a bridge is how one gets to the other side (in this part of the Seaway the bridge to cross is the International Bridge at Ogdensburg-Prescott). People we met on both sides take this quite seriously.  We stayed in Rockport on the Canadian side, and we took a scenic and informative boat ride with Rockport Cruises; but we concluded that the best way to visit Thousand Islands is to stay in a house on the water and have access to a boat (not that my husband or I have any experience with a boat, so we would need an invitation to stay with people who have one).  However, the next best way to visit Thousand Islands is to stay somewhere with easy access to Boldt Castle, in Alexandria Bay, positively the must-see attraction in the entire Thousand Islands area (Boldt Castle was commissioned by George Boldt, proprietor of the Waldorf Astoria hotel in New York and the Bellevue-Stratford hotel in Philadelphia).  Had we known about Hart House, on Wellesley Island on the New York side, beforehand, we would have stayed there (full disclosure: among the 'wonderful people' we met in Vermont was Marianne, who owns Hart House with her husband, Jamie).  We were given a complete tour of Hart House, within walking distance of the Boldt Yacht House, which is quite worthwhile apart from the castle and is where visitors take the (very) short (and complimentary) ferry ride to the Castle.  Marianne also showed us around the historic section of Wellesley Island and we had a great evening at Di Prinzio's Kitchen, which has dockside outdoor seating on the St. Lawrence.                

The Thousand Islands National Park consists of several mainland properties and more than 20 islands between Kingston and Brockville.  It's also the territory of two distinct Indigenous cultures, the Haudenosaunee (Six Nations-Iroquois Confederacy) and the Misi-zaagiing (Mississauga Anishinaabe). Within the National Park we enjoyed hiking several trails in the Landon Bay property, which is situated within the Frontenac Arch Biosphere Foundation.  There are 7 trails in Landon Bay and the Lookout Trail affords a great panoramic view over this section of Thousand Islands.    

Rockport was a bit of a food desert, but nearby Gananaque and Kingston are much bigger towns, and in Gananaque we had drinks on the outdoor patio at The Gananaque Inn and dinner at the Stonewater Pub  and in Kingston we had a great dinner at Tango Nuevo.  Kingston, established in 1673, is worth exploring for Fort Henry (a national historic site built to protect the Kingston Royal Naval Dockyard during the War of 1812), Princess Street, and walking around the area close to the water.   

I haven't met many people who've been to Thousand Islands, which is somewhat understandable as there are many competing places to go in the summer that are closer (Cape Cod, Nantucket, Martha's Vineyard, Block Island, Maine, etc.); but I think Thousand Islands is a worthy alternative, and I think it's gorgeous in the fall.  

Our friends' niece, who lives near Gananaque, told us we "must" go to Ottawa, so en route there we stopped in Kemptville (one of the hamlets of North Grenville) and had a great breakfast at Bubba & Bugs Coffee Bar.    The coffee here was quite good, menu items were made-to-order and all the baked goods appeared to be à la maison, and the staff were particularly friendly, taking time to talk to us enthusiastically about Canada Day in Ottawa.  Kemptville is on the route of the North Grenville Giant Chair tour: a giant Adirondack chair in each place along the route was uniquely painted by local artists to reflect its character (a cool idea).   The Kemptville chair is just below.  


Ottawa is a very pleasant city, and is a nice, two or three days add-on to a Thousand Islands trip.  Similar to being on the Saint Lawrence, the dividing line between Ontario and Quebec is in the middle of the Ottawa River.  We stayed on the Ontario side within (a rather long) walking distance from the Byward Market.  We had a fantastic lunch at Fairouz Cafe and a very good dinner on the Quebec side at Chez Fatima.  The National Gallery of Canada / Musée des Beaux-Arts du Canada is an outstanding museum - works by the artist trio General Idea (AA Bronson, Felix Partz, and Jorge Zontal) grace the main lobby, pictured below.  








The museum's collections are in Indigenous Art; Canadian Art; European, American, and Asian; Contemporary Art; Photography; and Prints and Drawings.  We saw a terrific exhibit, 'Canada and Impressionism: New Horizons' on one of its final days in the Canadian Art wing.  Artist after artist that you've never heard of: Helen McNicoll, James Wilson Morrice, Henri Beau, Franklin Brownell, and A. Y. Jackson among them.  If the works weren't entirely as polished as those by the French Impressionists, there were definitely a few gems.  At the time these Canadians were painting, their work wasn't always appreciated.  A. Y. Jackson, for one, noted that "few people liked the work I brought home from Europe.  The French Impressionist influence...was regarded as extreme modernism."  The Indigenous Art section is outstanding.  It's very thorough, beautiful, and thoughtful.  A few of the great quotations on the walls throughout the collection are "Beauty is indispensable to all human life.  That's why we must sow it all along our path" (Alfred Laliberté), "We have to grasp the wisdom of the old and introduce it into our present way of seeing" (Piqtou Kun), and "My people will sleep for one hundred years, but when they awake, it will be the artists who give them their spirit back" (attributed to Louis Riel, 1885).  

The Rideau Canal is the major highlight of Ottawa and it's truly fascinating.  The canal is 125 miles of scenic waterway that winds from Kingston to Ottawa, and it's the oldest continuously operated canal in North America.  And it's a UNESCO World Heritage Site as well as a National Historic Site of Canada and a Canadian Heritage River.  The locks are operated nearly the same way as they were when they opened in 1832.   We spent a fair amount of time watching the lock masters in the section next to the Château Laurier Fairmont Hotel, which is in a splendid location near the impressive Parliament Hill, before taking a boat cruise on the Ottawa River with Paul's Boat Line.

My take-away phrase from this trip is the motto of the National Gallery, 'Ankosé - Everything is Connected - Tout est Relié.  (Ankosé is a word that emerged in conversation with Algonquin Elders and Knowledge Keepers in 2021, and it's a powerful Anishnaabemowin word.)          


Sunday, February 6, 2022


Happy wishes to all in this new calendar year!  I didn’t intend for so much time to pass before posting again, but it has, and I have news, which is that I’ve switched to a new service, www.follow.it, to support my blog.  There are all sorts of additional features for followers (that weren’t available on the former Feedburner service), and you may now define filters and select delivery channels – please click to learn more and sign up: https://follow.it/thecollectedtraveler?action=followPub&filter.  Sincere thanks for continuing to ‘follow’ me, and I’m grateful for your help in sharing The Collected Traveler with others.  
    

Photo of the lunch menu on 20 September, 2019: panelle, casarecce pasta with zucchine and pine nuts, Mediterranean style swordfish steaks, roast potatoes with fresh garden herbs, 
almond milk biancomangiare, Regaleali Bianco 2018, Regaleali Nero d'Avola 2017, 
Vecchio Florio Marsala Secco Superiore 2013 

The passage of time really doesn't affect this post, my final one on Sicily: the specific topic -- the cooking class in Palermo with Nicoletta Polo, the wife of Gioacchino Lanza Tomasi, who is the adopted son of Giuseppe di Lampedusa, author of The Leopard (Il Gattopardo) the singular book about Sicily – hasn’t changed, though the pandemic certainly curtailed in-person classes for many months.  As I mentioned in my initial post on Sicily, the cooking class is the main reason I planned the trip in the first place.  The entire experience -- staying in one of the apartments in the Palazzo Lanza Tomasi, taking the class, and seeing the private rooms of the apartment and the original manuscript of The Leopard -- is on my short list of the most memorable of my life.  While there are some cookbook authors who offer classes in their homes (Diana Kennedy, Giuliano Hazan, and Patricia Wells are a few), I'm not aware of any other cooking classes that are held in the homes of literary figures.  It is positively a completely immersive experience like no other.   

Some background about the Tomasi, Lampedusa, and Lanza family names may be helpful here as they are all interconnected: the Tomasi name dates back as far as the late 1500s, to a Mario Tomasi, descendant of one branch of the Tomasi family that moved from central Italy to the Kingdom of Naples.  Mario was a powerful lord who had armed two galleys for the Battle of Lepanto in 1571, but he was also arrested for embezzlement and imprisoned.  After his release, he married Francesca Caro, heiress to the Barons of Montechiaro (Montechiaro refers to the town of Palma de Montechiaro, in southern Sicily in the province of Agrigento) and the Lords of Lampedusa, a family of sea captains who came to Sicily from Spain.  Lampedusa is an island 173 miles off the southern coast of Sicily, southwest of Malta and very close to Tunisia, and in recent years has become known as a refugee island due to the large number of migrants who have landed there.  A very moving account of a particularly tragic day in the island’s migration history is The Optician of Lampedusa by Emma Jane Kirby, an award-winning BBC reporter.  The optician, Carmine Menna, rarely gives interviews because he is haunted by what he witnessed that day.  “Hundreds of drowning people were in the water screaming for help with their last breath,” Kirby writes, “And it was at that moment that the Optician understood that it was no longer an option to stay a spectator on the sidelines.  He realized the migration crisis was just as much his problem as anyone else’s.”  Learn more, and help, by reading ‘Europe Begins at Lampedusa’ and Comitato 3 ottobre.      

The Lanza name appears in the family history in the 13th century, when the Lanza Branciforte family, of Swabian origin, moved to Sicily.  This family eventually owned the whole bastioned seafront on this side of Palermo, and in the 17th century they built the Branciforte di Butera palace.  In 1849 the palazzo was bought by Giulio Fabrizio Tomasi, with the indemnity paid by the king of Naples for the expropriation of the island of Lampedusa.  Giulio’s full name was actually Fabrizio Ferdinando Francesco Baldassare Melchiorre Salvatore Antonino Domenico Rosario Gaetano Tomasi, and he was also the 8th Prince of Lampedusa and the 9th Duke of Palma de Montechiaro, and the great-grandfather of The Leopard’s author. The author’s father was Giulio Maria Tomasi, and his mother was Beatrice Mastrogiovanni Tasca Filangeri di Cutò, whose family was from Naples.  Giuseppe di Lampedusa was the last Prince of Lampedusa, the 11th (if you, like me, are wondering how there could still be Princes of Lampedusa after Giulio Fabrizio, it’s because the abolition of feudalism in 1812 separated titles from land, so people who had titles might no longer own the actual places.  This was explained to me by Louis Mendola, author of Sicilian Geneaology and Heraldry (and many other good books), who I had the great pleasure of meeting in Palermo in 2019.  He added that the state confiscated the island of Lampedusa and compensated the prince for it, but the prince could still call himself a prince and so could his heirs.)  An added note about the Tasca and Lanza names: you may recall in an earlier post that I recommended the cookbooks by Anna Tasca Lanza, who was very influential in introducing Sicilian cuisine to Americans.  Anna was Nicoletta's sister-in-law, and since her passing in 2010, the cooking classes at Tenuta Regaleali are taught by Anna's daughter, Fabrizia, Gioacchino's and Nicoletta's niece (Regaleali wines are poured during the lunch prepared in the cooking class; they’re imported by Winebow and are generally not too hard to find in North America).

The Leopard, which covers the years from 1860 to 1883 with the final chapter placed in 1910, is one of my most favorite books, and is the most perfect companion read for a trip to Sicily.  The edition I recommend is the 2007 paperback published by Pantheon on the occasion of the novel's 50th anniversary, which is the version translated into English by Archibald Colquhoun and includes a Foreword by Gioacchino Lanza Tomasi (as an aside, Gioacchino is a renowned music history educator, opera specialist, and author, and a former director of The Italian Cultural Institute in New York).  When it was agreed that Lampedusa would adopt Gioacchino, Lampedusa went to Portugal to see King Umberto II (the last king of Italy who was exiled in 1946 after voters abolished the monarchy in a referendum) to ask his permission for the adoption and to carry on the title of Duke of Palma.  ‘Leopardo’ is the more common translation for leopard, while a more proper translation of ‘gattopardo’ refers to wild cats, like ocelots, which (significantly) were diminishing in number by the mid-1800s in Europe; in Sicilian dialects during Lampedusa’s time a leopard was referred to as gattopardu.  British critic Jonathan Jones, in a piece called 'A Place in the Sun' (The Guardian, 3 May, 2003) wrote that the book has become a morbidly seductive guidebook to Sicily, "its glamour and despair; the sensual revelling in decrepit palaces, burnt landscapes studded with temples, sugary pasticceria (Lampedusa spent a lot of time in cake shops) and the magnificent ball in a gilded Palermo salon that is so gloriously visualised in Visconti's just re-released 1963 film of the book, make you breathe Sicily."  In my opinion the book should be read slowly so that the beauty and wisdom of sentences and passages may be fully understood and appreciated.  While the film by Luchino Visconti (1963) is quite good, under no circumstances should it be seen without first reading the book.  There are so very many quotable lines.  Most quoted is, “If we want things to stay as they are, things will have to change,” but I like others even more:

“Again the Prince found himself facing one of the enigmas of Sicily: in this secret island, where houses are barred and peasants refuse to admit they even know the way to their own village in clear view on a hillock within a few minutes’ walk from here, in spite of the ostentatious show of mystery, reserve is a myth.”

“Then one of them asked me what those Italian volunteers were really coming to do in Sicily.  ‘They are coming to teach us good manners,’ I replied in English.  ‘But they won’t succeed, because we think we are gods.’”     

“I belong to an unfortunate generation, swung between the old world and the new, and I find myself ill at ease in both.” 

The book's significance is enormous: it's one of the best selling Italian novels of the 20th century, with more than 10 million copies sold; it's required reading in many high schools in Sicily and throughout Italy; the book and its author were featured on an Italian postage stamp; and it was honored with the Premio Strega, a prestigious Italian literary award.  Mary Taylor Simeti, in her wonderful book Pomp and Sustenance: Twenty-Five Centuries of Sicilian Food, notes that the word gattopardesco entered the Italian language,  describing anything that reflects the opulent tastes of the Sicilian aristocracy (the timbale of macaroni in Visconti’s film is described as "Leopardesque").  In Robert V. Camuto's Palmento: A Sicilian Wine Odyssey, in the chapter featuring Planeta, Camuto is in conversation with Peppe, the foreman of Planeta’s vineyards, and Peppe asks, “Have you read Il Gattopardo?” and Camuto replies that he has.  “Read it again,” Peppe said.  Further, the illustrated book Sicilian Twilight: The Last Leopards, by the team of Jean-Bernard Naudin, Gerard Gefen, Lydia Fasoli, and Fanny Calefati di Canalotti (The Vendome Press, 2000), details this unique aristocratic slice of Sicily in chapters like ‘A Brief History of the Leopards,’ ‘The Character of a Leopard,’ and ‘A Day in the Life of a Leopard.’ As revealed in the book, Sicily's great families had several residences, "one in town, another a short distance away, and one or several estates" and "When speaking of town, it was naturally Palermo."  Families were able to maintain these residences because of the large incomes they were fortunate to enjoy over past centuries and because of primogeniture, which guaranteed the right of succession to the firstborn, legitimate child (as opposed to any illegitimate child or a shared inheritance), so they were able to avoid the dissolution of their fortunes.  Lampedusa had at least six family residences, including the town house in Palermo (in the via Lampedusa at number 17, which was destroyed by Allied bombs in 1943); the house and castle at Palma di Montechiaro; and the castle of Santa Margherita Belice (an inland mountain town fictionalized as the summer village of Donnafugata in the novel; the castle was destroyed by an earthquake some years after Lampedusa’s death). Marlena de Blasi, author of That Summer in Sicily, provides a note about the possible origins of the word Donnafugata: Ayn as Jafat is Arabic for "fountain of health," which then became Ronnafuata, and over centuries, was further corrupted into Donnafugata.  It's also the trade name of the Sicilian wines produced by the Rallo family, fourth-generation winemakers of Etna, Marsala, Pantelleria, and Vittoria. 

Regarding the homes of the Leopards, Gerard Gefen notes in Sicilian Twilight that many of them had no distinctive façade and were not limited to a particular street or part of town.  He adds that "we must settle a little problem of vocabulary as in Sicily, more than elsewhere, the nature of things counts more than their appellation.  No Leopard would have used the term Palazzo, or palace, to designate his dwelling.  He would have left that expression to the lower classes, accountants, lawyers, tradesmen, or servants, while he would speak of his Casa, or house, with a capital C when writing, but never when speaking. In fact, in Italian the word 'palazzo' designates any large building, noble or ignoble, of which those that house a state organization are to be absolutely avoided."  

While there is a resemblance between the Leopards of Sicily and other aristocracies, Gefen says the Sicilian nobility was by far the last feudal phenomenon in Western Europe, and on the final page of the book he summarizes, "The truth is that there is no "last Leopard" because the end of the species was already written into its generic structure, and the race, already on the way to extinction at the end of the 19th century, was swallowed up in the great cataclysm of World War I, at the same time as the gold standard, the petits Savoyards, the Tsars of Russia, and the supremacy of good old Europe.” (Petits Savoyards refers to children from the Savoy region of France who were sent to work in other parts of France during the winter months when their families couldn’t afford to feed them; they often became street musicians or chimney sweeps and were part of French popular culture from the 18th to the early 20th century.)

And so now, after that rather long detour, we come back to the palazzo at number 28, via Butera, the last home of Lampedusa until his death in 1957 and the site of the cooking classes.  The day begins at 8:30, when everyone gathers at the office and then finds seats in vans, which drive a short distance to the Il Capo market.  Nicoletta, officially known as the Duchess of Palma as Gioacchino is the Duke, stops at a number of market stalls (she knows practically everyone) to pick up the particular ingredients for that day's lunch.  Along the way she shares a lot of market lore and points out various culinary items that are unique to Sicily; what you see depends on the season of your visit.  Once back at Butera, everyone goes up to the (gorgeous) outdoor terrace to pick herbs (and look at all the turtles that are walking around), and then it's downstairs to the kitchen, where everyone is assigned a task (culinary novices need not worry: there are all sorts of simple things to do to prepare for the meal, which is never very fussy, and almost all the tasks are undertaken by more than one person).  After a few hours, when the preparation is nearly complete, everyone takes a break for a glass of sparkling wine.  At this moment, as I looked around at everyone raising their glasses in a toast, sunlight was also pouring in through the floor to ceiling French doors which opened onto an interior courtyard open to the sky.  This was the first time throughout the day that I had to pinch myself as a reminder that I really was here.  In addition to helping prepare a meal, over the last four hours I had met some of my fellow students, wonderful people from other parts of the world, and our conversations were stimulating, warm, and sometimes funny, usually when Nicoletta made us laugh.  Finally, the last steps in the meal are completed, and everyone walks to the dining room, where a beautiful table has been set.  Students who are part of a couple are requested not to sit together, and Nicoletta sits at one end of the long table and Gioacchino sits at the opposite end.  A team of servers brings out each dish and serves everyone individually.  I loved every dish on our menu, but perhaps the casarecce pasta was my favorite precisely because it seemed like it would be good but not great, but it turned out to be incredibly delicious -- creamy even though there is no cream in the recipe; I think the quality of the pasta has something to do with this.  

After the meal, Nicoletta and Gio lead everyone on a tour of the other public rooms of the palazzo (as opposed to their private quarters).  These include the library and the ballroom, where the manuscript of The Leopard is kept in a glass vitrine.  And then, by about 4:00 or so, the day with the duchess is over.  At times when I think of it, it seems like a dream.  But I really was there.          

Interested travelers should visit the site noted at the beginning of this post and contact Nicoletta by email to inquire about joining a class as there is no set schedule.  Some cooking class students stay elsewhere in Palermo, but I recommend staying in one of the Butera 28 apartments (see my earlier Palermo post on 3 May, 2020 for more details).  In her recent end-of-year newsletter, Nicoletta wrote that the Palazzo Lanza Tomasi is now a member of the Associazione Nazionale Case della Memoria (National Association of Houses of Memory) and it has been accredited and certified by the prestigious Dream&Charme (the apartments in the palazzo received certification and the palazzo itself was awarded a five-star certification as well).  She also reported that the accomplished Palermo-born pianist, Danilo Manto, now living in Milan, performed a recorded concert in the ballroom of the palazzo in 2021 (not only is it a beautiful version of Chopin’s Walz in A Flat Major, Op. 69, No. 1, but there are great images of the ballroom).     

Related Recommended Reads & Walking Tours & Lampedusa's Grave:

'Annals of Place: The Palace the the City' by Fernanda Eberstadt, The New Yorker (23 December, 1991).  This excellent, atmospheric article was what introduced me to The Leopard, thirty-one years ago.  Besides being about Lampedusa, Gioacchino, and Nicoletta, it's also about Palermo, and is some of the best writing about the city, at that particular time, anywhere.  

Childhood Memories and Other Stories, Giuseppe Tomasi di Lampedusa, foreword by Ian Thomson, translated by Stephen Parkin (Alma Books, 2013).  In addition to Lampedusa's memories of two childhood houses -- the mansion in Palermo and the palazzo Filangeri di Cutò in Santa Margherita di Belice, home of his maternal family members -- there are works of fiction.   

Lampedusa: A Novel, Steven Price (Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2019).  A beautifully written book that recounts the last years of Lampedusa's life when he was working on The Leopard.  The gorgeous jacket photo is of the ballroom in the palazzo Gangi in Palermo.  Price quite brilliantly follows the events of Lampedusa's life near its end accurately while fully immersing himself in Lampedusa's head.  Lampedusa was diagnosed with emphysema, and he expresses two key thoughts in the book:  "We are from a world that no longer exists.  If I do not write that world, write it down, then what will become of it?" and "And he understood his great regret: after him would come nothing.  He had produced neither son nor daughter.  He had failed them all."  In his review of the book, Joseph Luzzi (author of the wonderful My Two Italies) observes that "Lampedusa's ancestor, the Leopard, strode across history's stage in the long, proud bounds of the majestic beast he resembled.  His quieter, gentler scion, a creature of words to the last, was only ever truly at home in books.  For him to have ventured forth late in life from his literary safe haven to write "The Leopard" is a story as improbable -- and at times fascinating -- as the historical paradoxes of his masterpiece."   ‘In Search of Lampedusa’s Sicily’ also by Steven Price is a wonderful companion piece written for 'Work in Progress,' a Farrar, Straus promotional newsletter.  In it, Price wonders if Gioacchino felt he understood Lampedusa differently now, after all these years.  “I understand him more now,” Gioacchino replied. He was older, I knew, than Lampedusa had been when he died. He added quietly: “He was much more, I think, than the book.” 

The Last Leopard: A Life of Giuseppe Tomasi di Lampedusa, David Gilmour (Pantheon, 1991), the definitive volume on Lampedusa's life, and A Biography Through Images, Gioacchino Lanza Tomasi (Alma Books, 2014) with a foreword by David Gilmour and Nicoletta was responsible for the picture research. 

‘The Oldest Money’ by James McAuley, Town & Country (December 2019/January 2020).  A particularly good interview with Nicoletta and Gioacchino by McAuley, former Paris correspondent for The Washington Post (the article is accompanied by some wonderful photos of the palazzo's interiors).  McAuley holds a PhD in French history and is the author of the excellent The House of Fragile Things: Jewish Art Collectors and the Fall of France (Yale University Press, 2021). 

'Sicily, Through the Eyes of The Leopard' by Adam Begley, The New York Times (6 July, 2008).  Begley writes, "I believe that if you love the novel (or the movie), you should start planning your trip right away, not because you'll find Lampedusa's Sicily waiting for you when you touch down (you won't, believe me), but because the bitter, resigned romantic nostalgia that pervades "The Leopard is also the sensibility that savors the decaying grandeur of an island burdened with layer upon layer of tragic history -- and blessed also with startling beauty, much of it perpetually waning."  

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The tomb of Lampedusa and his wife, Alessandra Wolff Stommersee, is at the Cimitero dei Capppuccini in Palermo (piazza Cappucini 1, postal code 90129). 

Sicilia Letteraria, a cultural association that develops and supports literary tourism projects, offers Lampedusa-themed walking tours such as 'On the trail of the Leopard: in Palermo between the two houses of the Prince' and 'On the trail of the Leopard: at the Kalsa between Garibaldi memories and the set of Visconti's film.'  Excursions to Palma di Montechiaro and Santa Margherita di Belice are also offered.