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.