A copper pot holds a creamy dessert so richly colored it looks like molten gold. An attendant carefully ladles the sugary, egg-yolk elixir, known as *zabaglione*, into bowls for soaking warm *pansarole* doughnuts. Talk stops, a quiet race to claim the last piece. It feels like truly living *la dolce vita*.
This dessert is a local custom in the village of Apricale, a storybook village in the Liguria region, Italy's crescent-shaped region that hugs the Mediterranean. It's a different universe from the busy Cinque Terre and upscale Portofino to the east. This western side, on the south-eastern border with France, feels more real and quieter in the winter, with more inhabitants than visitors. Released from vying for tables, you are at liberty to live in the present. Let whim be your compass – or, in my family's case, our stomachs.
A Familial Journey Rooted in Love for Italian Cuisine
I came to Liguria with my twin, her husband, and their 11- and 14-year-old kids, motivated by my sister's studies in Italy and our mutual love for the country's comforting, family-friendly food. Our road trip traveled from the coastal Flower Riviera to a constellation of medieval hilltop villages. In just a small area, we journeyed back in time.
A former partner from Sicily had shown me Liguria one January. Though it was wet, the nearby mountains deflect the wind, creating a unique climate with comparatively warm temperatures that average 13C. Our December trip was blessed with the most sublime December sun, perfect for outdoor dining.
Ventimiglia: A Place Perched Between Sea and Sky
Heading east from Nice, the road is punctuated by a series of sharp bends and underground passages. Our first stop was a brief journey away, just over the French border. Ventimiglia is split into two parts: the bustling lower town and the old hilltop quarter, perched over the water. On a sun-soaked terrace, we enjoyed fried calamari alongside Mediterranean views. The kids played pirates in front of a sculpture of the literary character, the hero of a famous adventure tale.
We ventured into the tangled web of the old town via the old Porta Nizza arch. Clothes hung from colorful buildings, their beautiful patina born from long history. Two churches on Via Giuseppe Garibaldi have notable elements: the strikingly real *Cristo Morto* (statue) and an ancient stone basin.
We entered the labyrinth of the ancient quarter where washing fluttered from colorful buildings, their lovely aged appearance born from the passage of time.
The Village of Dolceacqua: Ancient Paths and a Monet Bridge
Back in the car, we drove a short while north to the riverside village of Dolceacqua village. An impromptu search for "hotels with bathtubs" resulted in finding a charming inn set in the old district. Its rustic rooms are paired with modern whirlpool baths. The medieval historic sector sits across the Nervia river via the beautiful old bridge that the painter Monet famously painted, as evidenced by a wooden cut-out of him by the water.
On Via Castello, the children felt "enveloped by the stone buildings" that leaned towards each other. We ascended the winding Ligurian *caruggi* (lanes) to the Doria Castle. The seat of a notable clan from the Renaissance era, Dolceacqua's historic landmark is now an atmospheric ruin of tall arches, a piece of the past that is ideal for playing.
Back in town for pre-dinner drinks, every drink came with a complimentary snacks – "As it ought to be," remarked a relative. Our server at a nearby eatery promised us: "All the dishes are wonderful. If you aren't pleased, I'll finish it." We enjoyed local specialties: *trofie* (short, thin, twisted) pasta with pesto, potatoes and green beans, and *barbajuan* (vegetable and cheese-filled) fritters. All served with a local red wine, an rustic red that's seldom found abroad due to the challenging terrain's limited output.
Apricale: Precariously Perched Charm
The following day, we drove 15 minutes north-east to one of "the most beautiful villages in Italy", this stunning village. The terracotta-roofed village is plastered on lush hillsides, seemingly defying gravity. Known as an creative hub, Apricale's labyrinthine alleys are lined with street art. We got a personal tour, with local cats the only inhabitants on the deserted lanes.
The main piazza, Piazza Vittorio Emanuele, is flanked by two pink churches and the carefully maintained millennium-old Castello della Lucertola, whose dark dungeon felt like the middle ages. As did the similarly stone-arched dining room at a nearby ristorante, where we almost anticipated the waiter to slice our meat with a blade. The home of the aforementioned *zabaglione* also serves robust *coniglio* (local rabbit) and braised pork with cornmeal and *farinata* (savory pancake). En route back to the hotel, we visited another village, another idyllic spot, for a digestive *passeggiata* – the traditional Italian leisurely evening stroll.
Sanremo
Back on the coast, Sanremo felt like a bustling metropolis compared with the quiet villages. The city of over fifty thousand became a resort town in the 19th century, when wealthy Europeans, particularly English travelers, wintered in the Mediterranean for its mild winter climate. Decorative belle epoque grand hotels, gaming houses and villas are reminders of this era, their aging elegance like a actress in her twilight years.
The city's covered market was stocked with gargantuan cheese wheels, {cured meats|salamis|prosci
