Goodbye to cappacollo and spicy flat sausages. Goodbye to olive oil so dark and delicious that you put it on everything, including bread. Extra virgin olive oil so tasty, with a little back bite, that it is all you use to dress your salad and a sprinkle of salt. Goodbye to piccante flavors of Calabria, goodbye weird looking creatures from the sea cooked in olive oil, garlic and pasta water, whatever you are. Goodbye to bitter greens (I won’t miss you that much). Goodbye to the flat, hard homemade bread cooked in wood fired-ovens that has such a short shelf life that there are more recipes about what to do with hard bread than there are recipes for sea creatures. Goodbye to the sea and all the things that I ate from your bounty. Goodbye to pizza, mozzarella di buffala, sfogliatelle and the fabulous coffee of Naples so smooth and rich. Goodbye to cannoli. Goodbye to smoked scamorza grilled on lemon leaves and lemoncello and lemon Fanta. Goodbye to almond paste everything, including marzipan fruits so real you want to pick them up and take a bite, to almond paste frosting on cakes, and almond paste cookies with just enough flour to hold them together, and almond paste layers in tortes and in baked fruit tarts. Goodbye to eggless pasta with your oh-so- many-shapes and special sauces for each one of of you. Goodbye to Percorino, fresh, semi staginato, and staginato, with peppercorns or spicy hot peppers, made a few miles away. Oh, a sad, sad goodbye to sheep’s milk ricotta, how I will miss you. Oh, I will miss you all!
But, hello to tortellini, and tortelloni, and cappalacci and all manner of fresh egg-y pasta made and eaten on the same day. Hello to ravioli and other filled pastas. Goodbye to calico on every channel, every day, and hello to Ferrari racing, watched by all even if it is just watching the rain come down and the sweepers sweep it away from the track and nothing more. Hello to butter and cream and veal and beef and parmigiano-reggiano, prosciutto San Daniele, balsamic vinegar. Hello to Mortadella, sliced paper thin from sausages 15” in diameter. I don’t know what kind of bread you have in store for me yet, but I am anxious to see. I know it won’t be the saltless, solid loaves of Tuscany or the braided crunchy crusted breads of Naples with chewy tender innards, but I can’t even guess what you will be like.