ORVIETO
Standing up from the surrounding plain almost like a mirage, Orviero is built on another spine-tingling site chosen by those discriminating Etruscans. Its streets are grotesque and ridiculously narrow, especially toward evening when the soldiers begin to stroll. (This is a garrison town.) Orvieto is famous for its wine. too. but its greatest glory by far is the cathedral. Its façade, dating from 1285, is a polychromatic symphony of sun-baked sculpture, colored marble and mosaic, all dominated by a superlative rose window. It is reminiscent of Siena, as is the brilliant interior, conceived in alternate layers of light and dark stone. It is in Orvieto that the enthusiast for medieval art has the best chance to view the paintings of Luca Signorelli, one of the few masters who influenced Michelangelo. He was also one of the rare painters of the time who possessed and gratified the whims of a gourmet.
Orvieto is another hilltop town worthy of an overnight stop, and the ALBERGO REALE, facing the market square, will prove adequate. If you are only spending the day in Orvieto, we think you will be reasonably happy at the RISTORANTE MAURIZIO, at Via del Duomo, 55. Some energetic publicist on a Vespa scooter chased our car through the streets of Orvieto and, as soon as we parked, swamped us with postcards and broadsides about the Maurizio. We're inclined to be testy in the face of such ractics, but decided to calm our ruffled feelings and give him a fair test. The verdict: A for publicity, effort and courtesy, B for food, wine and service. Major disappointment: They couldn't provide an outstanding specialty of Orvieto, a famous—or infamous one, if you will—the alarming liver sausage prepared with sugar called mazzafegati. Perhaps it's just as well.
There is much more to be seen in Umbria—Gubbio and Todi, for instance Both are startling hill towns. Then there is Lake Trasimeno, largest in the leg of Italy, where pike and lazy carp are supposed to linger, and those fortified villages in the truffle country. But while there is still space, we should be off to the Matches, the region which forms the inner thigh of the Italian boor. This is a lean part of Italy for the average sightseer, and calls for briefer mention than Umbria. ANCONA, its principal city, is a seaport occupying a dazzling amphitheatre of high land on the Adriatic, but it attracts few visitors. Among Italian gourmets, however, it is famous for its sea food. If your path happens to lead through Ancona, we beseech you to seek our the RISTORANTE PASSETTO, on the Piazza IV Novembre, and try one of their specialties, if not the divine brodetto all'anconetana, perhaps their spaghetti with mussel sauce. We have acquired the recipe for the former dish. In case you live near an Italian fish market, you can perhaps acquire a sufficient variety of sea food to give it a try.
Brodetto all'Anconctana
Clean 4 pounds of fish of diverse types—cuttlefish, sole, red mullet, baby octopus, palumbo, and squid-wash them, and cut the larger fish in pieces. Discard the ink bag from the squid and wash the squid thoroughly. In a deep pan brown 1 onion, sliced, in an abundant quantity of olive oil, then add the sliced cuttlefish and a sprinkling of salt and pepper. Simmer the cuttlefish in the olive oil for a few minutes, add enough saffron so it takes on a fine yellow tone, and add enough water to cover everything. Simmer for about 1 hour. In the meantime, in an earthen casserole. place the other fish in layers, then add the cooked cuttlefish and its sauce, adding water and white wine to cover the fish completely. Boil over a vigorous fire for about ten minutes. Serve very hot with crusts of fried bread.
The Adriatic shore north of Ancona is strewn with little bench resorts and fishing towns. Fano and Pesaro among them. Scattered along the sands are any number of inexpensive summer hotels for the vacationist. Their clientele is overwhelmingly Italian-another chance to avoid the usual tourist path. Beautiful paper is made in Fabriano, high in the Marchian hills, but our favorite hill town is farther north.
URBINO
In a setting of austere grandeur, Urbino sits alone in the hills, conscious of its former grandeur as the seat of the Montefeltro dukes and the birthplace of Raphael. The mighty palace of the dukes, and the humble house where a son named Rafaello was born to the Sanzio family, are still preserved for public inspection. Urbino is animated and unspoiled, its streets enlivened with open-air markets and clusters of students, for a small university has been established here for centuries.
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