It was back in August 2014, when my bf booked us a surprise trip to San Vito lo Capo, the South-Eastern point of Sicily. The town itself was a tiny sea resort, with an average long sand beach with shallow, murky water. The concentration of people made it difficult to move and even to observe the beach ahead. One of those places that stay busy from dawn to dusk during the summer time, a real rabbit-warren. Sunburnt holiday-makers tried local specialties from tourist traps and bought limoncello and fridge magnets.
Every day we made our small escape. First, we went to a small, homely bread shop across the road to buy ourselves a simple lunch. The place did not look particularly appealing; tiny and quite shabby, it was though popular among locals. The line was so long that it started several meters away from the entrance. It was unbearably hot inside, so instead of the door, the shop had bead curtain. The selection was modest; customers could choose between different loaves of bread and panini. We were coming here for the Sicilian signature dish – arancini (c pronounced as ch). Arancini are rice balls with different fillings, most typical being ragu. But, yet quite wide-spread is the vegetarian version with cheese, tomatoes, and peas – a natural choice for us.
Then we would head to the national reserve of Zingaro. After a long curving drive and an hour of walking under the sweltering Sicilian sun, we were at one of the most picturesque places on earth. There we would spend the whole day, lying on the beach, swimming in the azure water, the cleanest I’ve ever seen, and eating our scrumptious arancini. That’s why the Sicilian riceballs will always taste of summer for me.