Palermo: A City of Chaos and Grace

I am on the plane going to Palermo. I got kicked out of my seat by a group of Sicilian aunties and they seem to not care about anything I have to say (granted, in English), so now I’m stuck between another two aunties who wouldn’t let me have the armrest despite being in the middle. Mike is sitting in front of me; the same thing happened to him; except, he has to sit next to an older man who has a “nephrostomy tube” hanging right next to Mike’s leg. The upsetting part is of course, not the fact that he has to wear the tube, but it’s the fact that he was stuck in a middle aisle, crushed in the furthest window seat, while having to be lifted to and from a wheelchair. Why they did not let him sit up front is beyond me.

We get our car, a tiny Sicilian mobile with a 6 gear speed. I am the better city and manual driver than Mike, so I take the lead in driving first to assess the driving situation. Spoiler: we never switched — Sicily is a crazy place to drive. 

We exit onto the highway towards our AirBnB in Palermo. The highways look new, beautifully maintained, with great signs. But there is no one here but us… until I see a lot of police lights behind me. At first, I thought they were out to get me: I’ve been here for one hour and already getting arrested! Did I accidentally bring pot from the US or something? Should I pull over? Mike tells me to calm down, and tells me to keep driving. Don’t be sketchy, it looks like a convoy. I keep driving. 

The convoy continues to drive behind us the whole way to Palermo and stops when we cross a Capaci. I guess Mike was right - there was some sort of celebration going on the side of the road. Seems very official. 

We get to Palermo. Traffic was insane. The streets were tiny. Drivers were unforgiving. But the worst part? There was absolutely no parking in public spaces or parking garages. I reached out to my AirBnB host about my problem, and they had forgotten to tell me a small detail: it is the annual celebration of life for Giovanni Falcone, one of the most influential anti-mafia italian judges, who was murdered by the Italian mafia Cosa Nostra for putting a lot of them behind bars. The spot where the convoy stopped was the exit where his car was bombed. 

After 2 hours, we find parking. We are grateful. As we walk to our AirBnB we see a group of older men in what look like total italian gangsters. They are dressed in gorgeous suits, aviator glasses, gold chains, and slim cigarettes hanging off their mouth. We see the car they were leaning on, they were the cops. Bad ass. 

Our AirBnB was perfect. The condo is located inside of a building complex with a tiny courtyard just off one of the most popular streets in Palrmo. A local couple has transformed the historical condo back to its heyday, meticulously hand painting every detail that was destroyed back onto the wall. This place was a gem. Here is the link. 

We walk Corso Vittorio, a year-round pedestrian street, and we are immediately hit with the reality: Palermo, as a whole city, is fucking gorgeous. It is gorgeous because the buildings are a centuries blend of cultures, histories, and architectural styles of Phoenicians, Greeks, Romans, Arabs, Normans, Spanish, and Italians. When we are talking architecture, I mean everything from baroque, medieval, gothic, islamic, neoclassical, art nouveau - it is absolutely chaotic, yet charming. I’ve never seen a city with so much history and diversity in styles. 

Before we did anything else, we nestled in the closest sandwich shop serving prosciutto and focaccia: Foccaceria dei Mercanti. It was a glorious smorgasbord of freshly baked focaccia, three types of meats, olives, potatoes, bread sticks. As Americans, we compared it to Texas barbecue, but for Italians. 

We continue our walk towards the Piazza Bellini, a famous square that has three beautiful churches in one square: La Martorana, San Cataldo, and Santa Caterina. As we enter the square, we hear a huge roar: “RESISTENZA LIBERA”. Macklemore’s song “HIND’S HALL” was playing to the roar. Hundreds of young people were marching in the square. I see people on top of all three churches, watching and cheering on. Meanwhile, Mike feels a few taps on his jeans pockets - some people were trying to pickpocket him to no avail. Anyway - I later found out that “Resistenza Libera” is a movement that consficates Mafia-owned lands and business and repurposes them for the public good. Sicily is still in war with the Mafia, the game is just played differently now, and the young are demanding justice. 

We continued our walk. This has been a heavy day. We turned the corner and it was quiet. In between the residential buildings, bedsheets were pinned to dry on the balcony railings, each balcony swaying in the wind like they are birds. Tiny cars drive past us as they are the only ones that can fit in these alleyways. Bikes pass by and we hear the jingle. It is quiet in this corner of Palermo. 

We get an arancini, a golden, crispy, deep fried rice ball. For some reason, because its italian, I thought this was going to feel healthy to eat. It does not, it is very much cheesy and deep fried, but boy was it addicting. Mine was filled with ragù, which is meat, tomato sauce, in gooey mozzarella. 

The rest of the day is pretty straightforward, we checked out the Norman Palace, Cattedrale di Palermo, and some other walking tour sights. My highlight was my very first ever pistachio cannoli. 

To end our only full day in Palermo, we ate at Osteria Mangia e Bevi. The meal was very sicilian: an italian style dinner with arabic influences. I can’t quite recall what we had since this was last year, however I remember eating a pasta with eggplants that tasted burnt, but was extremely tasty, alongside some very good thick pasta in creamy broccoli sauce and stuffed sardines. It was an excellent dish and like nothing I’ve had in Italy before.

But the real introduction to Sicilian cuisine is when we attended a cooking class hosted by Fulvio Lo Cicero, a local chef who was born and raised in Palermo. He hosted the cooking classes in his Palermo apartment which made it a lot more homey - kind of like when an uncle welcomes you into his home. Well, its actually exactly that. 

Before we settled in his place to cook, we went to the market where we bought fresh ingredients at incredible (read: local) prices. He negotiated an entire bushel of peaches for us for 4 euros. This will be our biggest score for the entire trip. 

At his apartment, we cooked tuna sicilian style, stuffed with garlic and mint, seared then cooked in alla norma (tomato) sauce. We removed the tuna to serve on its own, and then made pasta alla norma with the now tuna-alla-norma sauce. Although pasta is technically a part of this meal, the way it is served very much reminds me off foods from North Africa, particularly Morocco. The food combined with his energy made the whole experience one of the most local experiences we had while in Sicily. 

All in all, Palermo was indeed, a city of chaos and grace. Palermo is a great introduction to how different Sicily and Sicilians are to Italy and Italians: the diverse cultural influences of the Phoenicians, Greeks, Romans, Arabs, and Normans in particular, bleeds strong in the people, food, and architecture. The culture is forward and rich, much like islamic cultures around the world. Their dialect is even different than Italians - going back to the Arabic and Norman influences. 

Oh, one more thing before you go to Palermo: leave your jewelry at home. I had no idea that I had risked myself from getting robbed from day one because I was freely wearing my gold jewelry on my neck and rings. As beautiful and friendly as everyone is, Palermo is known for its pickpocketing and petty robbery. Save yourself from trouble during your Palermo holiday and just put it away… until you get to Taormina.