As told to Fiammetta Fadda.
Even if I had kept a diary, I wouldn’t be able to list everything I've eaten since the age of 14, when I started traveling the world with Piero and Ignazio for the Il Volo career. They’re my companions of all time and for everything: the stage, jokes, serious matters. I've really eaten everything everywhere I’ve been, from Japan to Vietnam.
However, I believe that my palate wouldn’t have been as eager for adventure if I hadn’t grown up with Abruzzese cuisine. The dishes, characterized by strong flavors, were born from a rough land that makes a virtue of necessity — sheep, entrails, and mountain herbs — and tempering the character and flavor. I also have my grandfather Ernesto to thank. He played the alto horn in the town of Montepagano’s band, and he would take along for the events and patronal feasts in the surrounding villages. For someone like me, who lives in the wild, memorable lunches don’t occur in the famous clubs but those with the closest people at the table with whom you laugh, toast, joke. And he remembers his most memorable.
All together, but it wasn't easy
Being able to have my mom Leonora, dad Ercole, grandfather, brother, and cousin at the table together is always a gamble – but one that I won recently. Instead of going to one of the dozens of convenient fish restaurants that abound in Roseto degli Abruzzi where I live and head inland to where true Abruzzese cuisine is still made. Everyone agreed that we should book a table at Rosy in San Gabriele dell’Addolorata. The restaurant is named for the owner and cook who has been in the kitchen for almost 50 years.
After an hour and a half of driving, we were seated. The place recalls the 1960s trattorias where everyone celebrated Sunday lunch. Friendly, familiar, with Rosy bringing us all the dishes for the bis dei primi [mixed first course]. We were still sitting at the table at four in the afternoon. Here it is.
Silence falls
We started with bruschetta with ventricina [a sausage from Abruzzo] and prosciutto al coltello [sliced with a knife instead of a machine], and we toasted with Montepulciano d'Abruzzo. Then the gnocchi alla boscaiola, Rosy's specialty, made with a ragù of meat, peas, and mushrooms. As is the case when everyone’s enjoying their food, silence falls. I also indulged in a taste of spaghetti alla chitarra with meatballs and ragù sauce. Without any problems. In this period, with the tours moved to 2021, I go to the gym four times a week and eat a protein diet. My mother, who cooks very well, enjoys satisfying my requests for sushi and exotic condiments, as she did with my brother Ernesto in the months in which he immersed himself in the vegan experience.
Then Rosy brought her triumphal mix of grilled meat: lamb, mutton kebabs, and pork belly, with a side dish of baked potatoes and vegetables. It may be Montepulciano d’Abruzzo, but every time at this point grandfather Ernesto is moved: "I can't believe it. In the 1960s, I was watching [singer Dominic] Modugno in Sanremo [home to Italy’s largest annual music festival], and now you are as famous as he is."
Then it was time for the "sweet pizza," the dessert that makes the party here: layers of sponge cake dipped in alkermes, cream, chocolate.
To close, the amaro
The grand finale was composed of gentian liqueur, the bitter digestive that everyone makes at home with a secret recipe. On the way back, the driver was slow and cautious and on Sunday, as in the past, it ended in quiet happiness. This is my memorable lunch to date. But maybe, if you had asked me in a few weeks from now, I would have told you about a forthcoming meal in Val di Sangro in Casadonna, the restaurant of Niko Romito, our flagship chef. We met at Porta a Porta da Bruno Vespa [an Italian TV show]. The lunch will celebrate the most famous Abruzzo of the year, and I already know that it will be memorable.