A short way south from Messina is the storied town of Taormina, which traces its heritage to the Greeks and later the Romans--with wonderful remnants of both cultures.
For all my Sicilian-American friends, I want it to be noted that the very first thing I did upon stepping on the island, after parking the car and walking into town, was to find a bakery with the best looking cannoli--with my cousin’s whole-hearted support. Like picking a lobster from a tank, we studied the beautiful tray of subjects and then pointed to the cannoli we wanted, paid about a 10th of what we would have been willing, and stepped outside to enjoy cannoli from the motherland--literally--in the shadows of a Greek theater from the Seventh Century B.C. We could have been standing next to a strip mine for all it mattered--the cannoli were indescribably good--a class above the world-class cannoli available on St. Louis’s Hill or Pittsburgh’s Strip. (We think the secret is the quality of the fresh ricotta cheese that is readily available in Sicily.)
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