And now we get to the meat of it. Well, cheese. And meat.

Cheese and meat. Mmmm …

A lactose-intolerant’s nightmare.

This woman was at the stall for a good half-hour, tasting different cheeses and amassing an enormous pile of waxed paper-wrapped parcels. It’s a serious business, cheese-buying.

Not just cheese, but salami as well

Oh, and sausages, fresh from the barbecue.

Stacked inside a terracotta roof tile, waiting to be eaten

For those of you who haven’t been to Sicily, it’s pronounced grah-nee-tah, and it’s kind of like a sorbet, in that it’s made of ice, sugar and flavourings. It’s a million times better, though. Eat it for breakfast accompanied by a warm brioche. You’ll thank me for it.

The ricotta-makers. The guy on the right was dying for us to stop taking photos of the food. Signora! Signora! Si fa una foto di noi? But of course I can …

They all smoke while working. It adds to the flavour, I’m told.

On a hot spring day, would *you* want to stand next to a blazing log fire stirring a giant cauldron of milk? No, me neither. My taste buds are glad they did, though.

And the final product: ricotta fresh from the cauldron, spread onto a metal tray, sliced up and handed out in milk-sweet, still warm chunks.

Best. Thing. Ever.