A Taste of Naples

It’s easy to fall in love with a city this delicious.

After about a week in Rome doing the usual tourist things, my son and I hopped a high-speed train to Naples. “You’re going to love this city,” I told him. Fewer tourists, for one. And an energetic thrum that I’ve never felt in any other city, even New York. Before Harry was born, 20 years ago, his mom and I travelled in the province of Campania, which encompasses Rome, Naples and the Amalfi Coast. This is the home of pizza, buffalo mozzarella, Greco di Tufo and Aglianico wines, and seafood fished daily from the Bay of Naples. In planning that first trip, I read hysterical travel guidebooks (remember those?) warning the city was noisy, chaotic, crowded, dangerous and not for tourists. Well, perfect.

Harry and I arrived in the early afternoon. The train station was noisy, chaotic, crowded…and may have been dangerous, but I’d arranged for a driver to pick us up. “In Naples, we are not Italian,” he told us. “We have our own language. We are not the same as the rest of Italy.” It’s true — the vibe is distinctly un-Roman. And, given the city’s Greek roots, everything seems to run a little hotter.

We stayed just off Via Toledo, in a little neighbourhood centred on a warren of streets lined with four-storey walk-ups, adjacent to the bustling pedestrian Mercato della Pignasecca. First up, we grabbed a snack at Fiorenzano, a streetside shack selling paper cones filled with fried seafood.

At less than €10 with a beer, it’s clear we’re not in Rome anymore.

Later, we heeded the advice of our driver and headed to one of several pizzerias owned by Gino Sorbillo, on Via dei Tribunali, a.k.a. “via della pizza.” Sorbillo’s global fame attracts those willing to line up at the flagship restaurant that carries his name, but the same quality can be found at his more refined and elegant restaurant, Pizzeria Presepe Napoletano, just across the street.

I suppose it may be possible to find a lousy pizza in Naples, but we didn’t. Just don’t stop at any place that isn’t hopping. This led me to the salumeria Pan & Noci where, every morning, they set tables out on the street, which quickly fill up and stay that way till late. I sat for several hours one evening, sampling dishes and wines, and watching locals come and go — and dodge speeding scooters — for takeout and groceries. The pizza was outstanding, as were fried zucchini flowers with house-made ricotta, and polpette al sugo (meatballs with sauce). In the morning, we grabbed overstuffed sandwiches for a road trip to the ruins of Herculaneum.

For evening drinks, two tiny spots stood out. A humble place called In Red Wine had a modest collection of regional bottles and by-the-glass options at friendly prices. A small hipster joint called Posca was a lovely spot to while away a few well-composed cocktails. The patio faces a lively pedestrian street with book and art shops. As the evening descended, I ordered another cocktail and listened as the buzz of the city gradually increased. It seemed as if everyone in Naples was about to enjoy an aperitivo. As it should be.

– Dick Snyder