Page 3 - Italian American Herald - August 2021

By Robert Damien Santagata
I had always wanted to visit the island
of Corsica, not only because it is Napoleon’s birthplace – I am obsessed with this man! – but because of its great beauty, art, and, well, slightly confusing culture. It is a unique mix of French and Italian – the language (Corsu) being closer to Italian; the nationality being “officially” French.
The waters surrounding Corsica are pristine and inviting, but as I sat on the
ferry en route, acidulous juices creeping
up my throat – I always get seasick on a
boat – I was far from enthusiastic. Indeed,
I wanted to blow the chow that I had eaten before departure from Genoa. But I didn’t. We ultimately docked, and, no sooner had
I touched land, the mal de mer released my head and stomach ... and I was hungry for some Corsican food. What to eat? I asked myself. Corsica offers some great street food, pizza no exception. I approached a vendor and ordered a slice of the four-cheese. I ate with gusto as I walked through the town of Bastia, the financial capital. I next bought
the ever-popular, ever-Corsican figatelli, a smoked pork-liver sausage nestled in a bun – reminiscent of a hot dog but much more delicious. Corsican food is simple and rustic, unlike the cuisine of the mainland, which can often be pretentious. Much of the meat is free-range, and the charcuterie (dried meats) of Corsica are out of this world. Honeys and jams abound; pastas are sold everywhere; the wines are very respectable, even by French standards. Let me not forget the seafood, which, needless to say, is fresh and abundant but only recently appreciated, thanks to centuries of invasions and a deep-rooted aversion to the coastline, where Phoenicians, Greeks, Romans, Saracens, Franks, Goths, Pisans, Genovese, and finally, the French arrived without invitation.
I was tired after the five-hour trip from Genoa and was looking forward to a little break. Luckily, my hotel was not too far from the debarkation point. The Bonaparte Hotel is centrally located, clean, and air-conditioned. And though the lady at the reception desk was a little less than friendly, she did, nonetheless, check me in, hand me my key, and give a perfunctory smile as I headed for my room, where I napped and recharged in preparation of the evening’s festivities.
As it was early August, and thus high season, it was hot and crowded on the beautiful island. Corsica’s population is only 275,000, but during tourist months, that number soars. Most of the tourists are French and Italian, with a smattering of Germans.
A statue of Napoleon Bonaparte on the island of Corsica in the city of Ajaccio, France.
ITALIAN-AMERICAN HERALD
AUGUST 2021 | ITALIANAMERICANHERALD.COM 3
EXPLORING PARADISE
Come wander the island of Corsica with me, following the fabled footsteps of Napoleon
Vol. 8 No. 8 – August 2021
A MONTHLY NEWSPAPER SERVING THE ITALIAN-AMERICAN COMMUNITY
A DIVISION OF TODAY MEDIA Editor & Publisher
Robert F. Martinelli
Art Director
Rosalinda Rocco
This issue’s contributors
Melissa Cannavo-Marino Frank Cipparone Jeanne Outlaw-Cannavo Charlie Sacchetti Robert Damien Santagata Murray Schulman
Senior correspondent
Jeanne Outlaw-Cannavo
Managing Editor
Al Kemp
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Charles W. Tomlinson Jr.
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Tanya Tecce
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David Bergeman
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Eric Bolis Chris Johnson Shelby Mills
Editor Emeritus
Joseph T. Cannavo
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In Memoriam
Chairman Angelo R. Martinelli (1927-2018) Vice President Ralph Martinelli (1962-2019
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ABOUT THIS SERIES
The author of this series, Robert Damien Santagata, is a “rabid Italophile” and the author of the 2020 book “The Paradise of Exiles.” This series presents his vivid, evocative accounts of his search for the soul of Italy – rapturous descriptions that the author attributes to Stendhal syndrome, a psychosomatic condition in which overexposure to any form of great beauty induces a state of euphoria that can include elation, dizziness, confusion, hallucinations and even fainting.
Contents
Achiever ......................................... 4 Pagina Italiana / Per I Bambini ........ 6 It's All Good .................................... 8 Vini D'Italia ....................................10 News From Italy.............................11 The Chef's Perspective ..................12 Language ......................................14 Local / Education...........................15
The symphony of languages – French, Italian, Corsu, German, English, etc. – was anything but soothing as I entered the night and headed toward a little restaurant that my best friend, Hervé, had recommended to me. A Casarella serves hearty, traditional Corsican fare at reasonable prices. The cool, pastel- colored interior offered an ideal escape from the throngs of tourists partaking in Corsica’s answer to Italy’s passeggiata – strolling along the streets, Italianate buildings on either side of them, aromas emanating from dozens of eateries, pubs, and taverns. I ate grilled catch of the day, which, it embarrasses me to say, was never identified for me. It was delicious, nevertheless, and went down nicely with
the local patrimonio wine. Dessert was the ubiquitous fiadone, a soft cheese tart that is soaked in liquor and ignited. It was simple yet heavenly. Happily stuffed and feeling like an engorged tick, I reentered the night and the parade. I craved a coffee and a digestivo.
I didn’t know where to go, so I walked ... until I came to a bar called Le Marcana. I peeked inside and noticed that the clientele was relatively young. I entered anyway. I immediately ordered an espresso and a shot of sambuca. I looked around and, it pains me
to say, deduced that I was perhaps the oldest person in the place. My psyche jarred, I sipped my espresso and nursed my Sambuca, and I was enraptured – I had actualized my goal to walk in the footsteps of Napoleon!
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