Those hunger-inducing, Italian-tinged aromas can inhabit your nostrils when you least suspect it. Like Dorothy, imagine yourself somewhere far away from home, but on your journey, you find something even better than Oz: amazing Italian food.
I’ve collected enough Amtrak Guest Rewards and JetBlue TrueBlue points in the recent past to know that sometimes the most satisfying dishes pass across your palate in the least likely of places.
For example, in far-fetched locales outside the usual Italian enclaves—like in the foothills of the green mountains of Vermont. (Fun fact: Vermont is a direct translation of green mountains). I spent an early autumn day at Stowe Mountain Resort, staying at the picturesque Lodge at Spruce Peak. It’s a Vermont fever dream here, with glorious mountain vistas right outside my sprawling room. A lift regularly launches people up the nearby mountain, where skiers and snowboarders will soon be ferried up the mountain once flakes start flying. The resort, and community of Stowe, boasts an impressive array of private, culinary businesses, from microbreweries to bakeries, distilleries, and ice cream. Ben and Jerry’s was founded not too far from here. In other words, not the kind of place you’d expect to find delicious Italian.
Yet, a short drive away from the Lodge lies Piecasso. The curious name is a play on the famed painter, considering their menu features a vast array of pizza varieties to create your own work of foodie art. I walked there one Sunday evening and ordered a pesto, meatball and fried eggplant pizza on a cauliflower crust. Try finding that combo anywhere else. Here, they lean into the Picasso lore (despite his being from Spain) so much that its logo is borrowed from his actual signature.
While I could imagine this pace in winter being a mecca of activity, with hungry snow-chasers trudging in after a long day on the slopes, on this random evening, it’s incredibly busy. In one corner, kids are having a pizza night; on the quieter side, a couple is on a date. The bar is filled with sports fans watching football.
The calamari here was as good as any in an Italian enclave: perfectly crisp and tender, the latter of course the biggest test. Their creamy burrata was served with local tomatoes, while their garlic knots, a pizza place favorite, have the ability to make even your most garlicky dreams come true. Turns out the pizza and sauce recipes are over 50 years old, all the brainchild of a second-generation Sicilian named Ed Rovetto. Pablo would be proud, even if he wasn’t Italian.
This past summer I found myself lying on the beach at the vacation oasis that is Baha Mar. Located in Nassau in the Bahamas, there simply shouldn’t be tasty Italian food here. But as I realized on a recent trip to Hawaii, where I visited the spectacular Olivine at the gorgeous Grand Wailea Maui (and reported back for Appetito earlier this year), seaside sunsets and sandy shores are just as potent places for pasta as they are for pina coladas.
The sprawling Baha Mar resort is located a short drive from Lynden Pindling National Airport and offers a ridiculous amount to see and do. A waterpark? They have one of those, and it’s massive. An art gallery and museum? They have both, celebrated annually at the Fuze Art Fair, a festive confab that boosts the island’s many local painters. A spa? Casino? Golf courses? A kitchen equipped for cooking lessons with top chefs? Check, check, check, and another very tasty check.
But perhaps most importantly, they also have Fi’lia, which stands as a culinary oasis among the massive complex. Smartly, instead of trying to make believe it’s in the middle of an Italian enclave, Fi’lia plays to the strengths of its location by combining the culture of the Bahamas (including fresh grown veggies) with Italian flavors. This means lots of seafood: Pescae Marinado ( Caribbean snapper with a basil oil), a crispy Fritto Misto (which comes with both cocktail and Marinara sauce) and Polipo (grilled octopus with local tomatoes).
But Fi’lia’s star is freshly made bread, including a homemade focaccia made in house. Most restaurants in New York source their baked goods, yet somehow plopped in the heart of the sunny Bahamas, we have fresh-baked Italian bread.
As I walk out onto Baha Mar’s meandering pier that juts into the blue waters of the Atlantic, it makes me wonder where else holds those hidden Italian food gems. I have a lot more traveling to do, yellow brick road be damned.
