The scooter I rented at the port of Salina made a deafening noise, not unlike a chainsaw that only stops when you turn the engine off. Yet, it was the very last one available, and it allowed me to explore the island inside out—securing, even in the height of August, a peaceful solitary dip at Scalo Galera, the cool shade of the fern and wild leek forest (pack a rain jacket!), the fiery orange sunsets of Pollara, and a visit to the Aeolian Museum of Emigration.
I still cherish the memories of the people I met, alongside a small bottle of Malvasia that I occasionally stare at, but haven't quite found the courage to open just yet.
It was given to me as a gift in a local café whose name escapes me. I was simply asking where I could buy a good one when a gentleman, enjoying his early morning coffee just like me, asked me to wait a moment before returning with his prized bottle.
When I stepped back onto Salina many years later, it felt as though I had never left.
The first thing on my mind wasn't taking a dip in the sea, but making a trip toPa.Pe.Ro' al Glicine. It sits on the opposite side of the island, but it is well worth the journey.
You park just across the road before picking a table in the garden overlooking the deep blue sea. Call me predictable, but I always order the exact same thing with unchanged delight: ricotta granita topped with salted caper dust and candied capers.
For me, there is a life before Salina and a life after.
In my previous life, I completely ignored capers—and I’m not ashamed to admit it, considering what’s on offer at the supermarket. In my current life, however, I make sure to reorder them long before they run out.
I consume 5 kg of salted Aeolian capers a year. They have become as essential as parsley; I use them on everything, often replacing salt altogether, during meals or aperitifs, in salads, fish dishes, and soups.
I have now added candied capers from Sapori Eoliani to my list, perfect for pairing with ricotta and ice cream or as a unique gift.
This special recipe belongs to Roberto Rossello who, following in the footsteps of his grandfather Giuseppe De Lorenzo, took over the family farm in Pollara (which, sadly, I haven't managed to visit just yet).
Roberto’s face is the first to welcome you when you visit their website https://www.saporieolianisalina.it/ .
In a way, I feel I've come to know him through spoonfuls of candied capers and through his mother, Marcella, who carried on her son’s dream after he tragically passed away in an accident.
She is the one I message on WhatsApp - still using the polite formal address, yet chatting as if we were old acquaintances - to ask for details or confirm an order. She always replies so kindly and promptly that I don't miss having a standard e-commerce shop on their site at all.
Having always been used to seeing capers sprout spontaneously here and there in the cracks of dry stone walls, fields, or gardens, I had never truly appreciated the care and attention that caper grounds demand.
In Salina, you will find the oldest ones grown alongside fruit trees, vines, and olive trees, while others stretch across entire terraced hillsides.
Choosing these products means honoring not only the richness of the land, but also the painstaking work involved in harvesting its fruits by hand during the hottest months of the year.
Nothing goes to waste with this humble shrub: the leaves, the capers, and the prized cucunci (caper berries) are all transformed into patè, crumbles, and preserves.
Alongside the more traditional items (I had no idea that Aeolian capers and cucunci were designated Slow Food Presidia!), you can also try more innovative flavours, such as the "Roberto" jam made with capers and Malvasia. Trust me, you will have plenty to discover…