the self-proclaimed capitol of the Italian Riviera, birthplace of Columbus, Pagnini… and pesto.

As I write this I’m sitting in a trattoria in the old city, set in the corner of a building dating to the Renaissance, or perhaps before. And I’m watching a Renaissance man of sorts – the owner of the restaurant and patriarch of the family that runs it – a former Opera singer (judging by the photos on the walls), a multi-linguist (I’ve heard him speak to four different patrons in four different languages), and a deft maker of his own pesto.

He’s grinding small-leaf basil in a large marble mortar with a wooden pestle. The sweet-savory aroma teases my nose with the promise of something unforgettable. I watch as he grinds and then mixes in garlic cloves and pine nuts, grated Parmigiano and Pecorino Sardo (sheep’s cheese), butter and olive oil... along with the proverbial pinch of salt. And I ask the waiter, in the best Italian I can muster, “Che piatto da pesto suggerite?” (What pesto dish do you recommend?)

Ciao…. more later.