I’m talking about real dogs, not bad looking guys because her fidanzato, Gianni, is quite handsome; a graceful, well-ironed  young man with blue eyes, big smile and great sense of humor.  I am happy “my first homestay daughter” Cesca found a man to love and a man to love her. 

 

Now back to the story about dogs: One evening Matt, Cesca, her friend Elena and I were walking around the extraordinarily beautiful seaside town of Trani. Trani is all beige-ish white, sun-bleached cobblestone, turquoise and sky blue with bits of green along walkways and flowers in window boxes. In the 11th century, Trani was a major launching position on the Adriatic for the Crusades.

 

Trani is crowded with Italian tourists in the summer: hundreds of expensive sailboats moored in the gently sloshing harbor; Italian men wearing perfumed ascots, perfectly pedicured blonde women, and kids in crocs out for an evening passesgiata.  Gelati American music.  Italian chatter. Vespa horns. Strings of lights. Wafts of espresso, garlic, and fish both fried and grilled. 

 

We were there in April, not the tourist season, and we were the only Americans there.  The evening was chilly enough for a thick sweater.  The four of us walked along an ancient cobbled strada past the crescent harbor out to a promontory to have a look at the Cathedral of Saint Nicholas. Everybody in this part of Italy loves St. Nicholas. His Trani cathedral lies on a raised open site near the sea and is built in the characteristic white local limestone. It has also a large crypt and a lofty tower. The Romanesque portal are beautifully ornamented in the Arab style.

 

The sun was about to set, accenting the sturdy building’s clean stones and making the sea a deeper blue. A single ten or eleven year old boy bounced a green rubber ball against the side of the cathedral.  I don’t remember what we were talking about.  Maybe how Italians iron their clothes and Americans don’t. We heard the clicking of toe nails against the cobblestone.  A thin, red-eyed dog with a black saddle-shaped spot on its white body circled us three times. We called him Spot. Spot took position at Cesca’s right side, curling down his floppy ears and keeping time with her steps.

 

“All the homeless dogs in Italy have red eyes,”Cesca said when I noted our new companion looked as if he’d been drinking.

 

Three or four more homeless dogs– one golden and one sleek as a greyhound– rushed out of Trani’s thin Medieval alleyways like a pack of beggars chasing coins. Spot bared his teeth and barked the other’s away. He became our guardian, our protector, our canine guide in Trani.

 

“Wherever I go dogs find me,” Cesca said as she trucked along the ancient streets, Spot loyally keeping pace at her side.

Just the week before, Cesca successfully defended her thesis in veterinary medicine.  “You can call me a doctor who smells like a dog.” She laughed.

 

 Elena, Cesca’s friend and colleague was also a vet.  “The smell has sunk into our skin.”  She rubbed her arm. “We are saturated from working with dogs all day long.”

 

Spot sat when Cesca stopped. Matt noticed the black hair on his back was shaped like a big heart. 

 

 Cesca said. “I am their favorite.” She laughed and Elena agreed. “The dogs go crazy for Cesca.”

 

So there we were, the four of us, in a medieval town, with a dog shepherding us along  the walkway abutting the sea.  Gianni, the fidanzato, was at home, watching soccer on the TV, recuperating from his day at work.  My daughter Ruby’s flight to Bari from Rome was delayed three hours.  What should we do?

  

Eat. 

 

Spot moved on to wherever stray dogs slept in Trani.  We entered a rather famous Trani restaurant called the Orangerie on the Piazza Quercia. What should we  Outside, under a tented patio, we drank ‘spreetz’, chatted, and from our front row view of the port watched lights bob on the sea until the mosquitos started to bite. upstairs. Gianni joined us, we moved upstairs, and we dined….

 

Mamma mia!!!!! The chef at the Orangerie, Luca somebody, is know for giving traditional dishes a superb makeover.

 

Grilled seafood involtini: thin eggplant slices rolled around a fleshy white fish and potato puree.

Shrimp on a bed of green apple matchsticks.

*Octopus floating atop a bread and potato raft with a toasted sail

Orechiette with Rape

Pasta with cherry tomato

Grilled Orate

Green salad

espresso

No room for dessert

 

*Every time we said octopus in Italian, Cesca corrected our pronunciation: polipo. We imitated the way she moved her lips. In Bari, people eat raw polipo. “They net it, bring the animal to shore, turn the head inside out, pound it against the rocks,” Cesca said. “Then they eat it. Crudo. With a few drops of lemon juice.” 

 

We don’t do raw octopus, but I often prepare the traditional pasta of Puglia.  Orechiette, by the way means ‘little ears.’ Here’s my recipe for Orechiette with Rape

 

Cook a pound of semolina orechiette according to package directions. 

 

Meanwhile, wash and then steam a bunch of rape* for about 3 minutes.  The rape should remain rather bright green. Let the vegetables cool a bit before roughly chopping the bunch into small pieces.  Small pieces give better pasta coverage.

 

Please note that you can use any strong-flavored greens, such as mustard greens, collards, broccolini, kale, and chard in addition to or in place of the rape.

 

Pour 1/2 cup of good green olive oil (preferably from Puglia) into a large skillet.  Heat the oil add 3-5 cloves of chopped garlic.  When the garlic begins to be transparent, add the chopped greens, being careful to get out of the way of hot oil when it spits as you add the moist greens.  Stir and continue to cook for about 4 minutes.

 

When the orechiette are cooked drain. Be sure to reserve 1/2 cup of the water in case you need it; the reason you would need it would be because you didn’t use enough olive oil to lubricate the greens and pasta.  Add pasta to the vegetable and oil. Stir from the bottom so as not to break any of the pasta. If needed add the 1/2 cup reserved pasta cooking water.

 

Season with salt and pepper, as you like.

 

Variations:  Add a can of anchovies to the garlic and oil mixture.  Add  1/2 teaspoon red pepper flakes.