TR AVE L
PALE R M O
N CHAOS AND
HARMONY Surrounded by the aroma of tempting street food and scenes from a tempestuous past, Nicola Edmonds loses herself in the bustling market squares and back streets of Sicily’s main city, Palermo. Words and photography — NICOLA ED M OND S
118 DISH
o words are spoken between Nino and his clientele at the Ballarò market. The young maestro knows exactly how his customers like their calves’ guts. With the speed and grace of a surgeon, he slips handfuls of warm offal from the mysterious depths of a tightly wrapped wicker basket into a plain white panini or a few squares of grease-proof paper. A quick douse of pepper or a spritz of lime juice and the customer is served with a flourish and a smirk. The surprisingly delicious frittola are a speciality in the city of Palermo. The culinary tradition dates back to the 15th century, when the frittularu strapped his basket to the back of a donkey. At that time, Sicily’s capital was said to be one of the finest cities in Europe; a reputation it had held for centuries. Al-Edrisi, an Arab geographer to the Norman king, Roger II, once described it as “the largest and most sublime metropolis in the world, whose praises never end,” adding, “The city has an abundance of fruit and her buildings and elegant villas defy description… To look at this city is enough to make one’s head spin.” Palermo is still dizzying today. But it is the city’s grit and verve, rather than fine architecture, that is overwhelming. Bombs gutted most of the historic centre in 1943, during World War II, and, due in great part to mafia interference, the rebuild process was haphazard, with little regard for preservation.
Today in Ballarò, three-wheeled Ape vans have replaced donkeys and although the market has a scruffy reputation, it’s a magical place. Like the souks of Sicily’s close-by North African neighbours, there’s an exotic sprawl of vendors selling almost anything you can imagine and possibly more you can’t. The voices and music of two continents mingle in the morning crowds. Beside trestles stacked with gleaming piles of fresh fish and seafood are Day-Glo displays of fruit and vegetables that include small hillocks of the freshest, squeakiest brassicas imaginable. There are large steel bowls of babbaluci (tiny snails nestled among finely chopped parsley) and the scent of oregano beckons shoppers to stalls selling baked ricotta encrusted in herbs. The market is a wonderful place to start to explore Palermo’s many street food stalls – rated as some of the best in the world. The abundant fried delicacies originate from the 18th century when food was rationed. Many Sicilians couldn’t afford to cook in their own homes. Street food, which was cheap, filled the gap. Some dishes are familiar, such as deep-fried rice balls, succulent squid and octopus, croquettes of mashed potato with egg, and the Palermo version of a chip butty: chickpea flour fritters wrapped in a bun. Others are less so, like a cheesy spleen sandwich or skewers of barbecued goat intestines. It’s easy to devote whole days to the consumption of offerings from countless oil-filled vats.
OPPOSITE PAGE:
Locals enjoy thickcrusted slabs of sfincione pizza for morning tea.
ABOVE, FROM LEFT:
The tranquil courtyard of Palazzo Lanza Tomasi; Nino di Ballarò draws daily crowds to feast from his frittola cart. The wicker basket conceals refried morsels from somewhat gruesome origins.
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