On spring Saturdays the alleys fill up:

the wise matrons of the old city,

slowly drag their seats,

placing them in a circle ready for the festive afternoon banquet.

 

The person in charge of preparing the fresh pasta is always present, with a cutting board in tow, so expert that she doesn't need any concentration: "grandmother" talks to everyone and knows everything about everyone, while she quickly passes her fingers over the dough that magically transforms into orecchietta.

 

On Sunday mornings, open windows are an invitation to lunch. The streets fill with scents.

lots of ragu sauce is on the stove, the sizzling of hot oil announces to the little ones the meatball binge.

everything is ready. everything is perfect:

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Welcome to the Vicoletto