Original subtitles

- I really have very few memories of it.

I've been dreaming of coming back to Calabria

since I was a boy.

I don't remember it being this green.

It's absolutely beautiful.

It's a wild and rugged region steeped in mystery and myth.

A place that's as troubled as it is beautiful.

But Calabria means something more to me.

It's my ancestral homeland.

And I want to get to know the region

that my family left behind all those years ago.

Is this jogging your memory at all?

- That's a long time ago.

- I'm Stanley Tucci.

I'm Italian on both sides,

and I'm traveling across Italy to discover how the food

in each of this country's 20 regions is as unique

as the people and their past.

Caught between a rock and the sea,

the Calabrese are notoriously tough.

- But this is a place

where southern hospitality is a way of life.

- Oh, my gosh, look at the size of it.

- You should open a restaurant.

- And in this poor region...

All right.

Every meal is a celebration.

Oh, wow.

There's like a million different flavors in there.

- Buon appetito.

- Calabria sits in the toe of the boot of Italy,

connected to Basilicata in the north

and separated from Sicily in the south

only by the narrow Strait of Messina.

It's a region of rugged landscapes,

dramatic mountain ranges,

and some 500 miles of incredible coastline.

It doesn't have that infrastructure.

It's still a lot of abandoned buildings,

a lot of poverty, a lot of corruption.

It's really unfortunate because it is magnificent.

Like millions of Calabrians,

all four of my grandparents emigrated from this region

with nothing but the clothes on their backs.

So I'm headed first to see the birthplace

of my grandfather, Stanislao Tucci...

The man whom my father and I are named after...

The town of Marzi, population 900.

And happily, I'm being joined

by two semi-experienced guides,

my parents, Joan and Stan Tucci.

- Wow, look at that. - Oh, look at the door.

- That's beautiful. - Wow.

- Well, this is nice. We're walking down Via Morti.

- Yeah, I saw that. - The street of the dead.

How nice. - I'm not going down there.

No, don't go there.

- My father has been to Marzi once before.

And because our family is obsessed with our ancestry,

he suggested we pay a visit to the local town hall

to see what we can dig up about my grandfather's life.

Okay, so what year?

1889?

- My father, 1889.

- Okay, '89.

- '89. Wait a minute.

- Come over here, Stan.

- There you go.

- Stanislao. - Yep.

- Ooh, wow.

- Scarpellino, that was his... - Mother?

- No, no, no. - No, scarpellino

was your vocation.

- Yeah. - Stone carver.

- Stone carver. - Oh, a stone carver.

So he was born in '89.

- Yeah. - When did he come to America?

- 1904.

So that makes him...

- Yeah. - 15, 16 years old.

- Did he ever come back to see his parents?

- Once. - They never came to America?

So he only basically only saw his mother one more time...

- That's right. - From the time he was 16...

15, 16. - It's amazing, isn't it?

- Yeah, yeah, it's incredible.

- And a lot of immigrants didn't.

- I know. I know.

- For a culture that is so family oriented...

- I know. - To just move away,

it's hard to believe.

- Oh, there you go, Dad.

Look, it's your family home, Famiglia Tucci.

- Does it? - Yeah.

- That's it. - Let's go in.

- Wow, it could be a relative. - Yeah.

- As it turns out, being a Tucci

isn't that remarkable over here.

- Buongiorno. - Buongiorno.

- Over half of Marzi's population shares

our last name...

Is this what you remember?

- Which turns out to be a big problem,

as my dad wants to find his father's house.

- My recollection, it was perfectly flat.

- Yeah. - And there was a place

with a huge... - Well, let's...

Let's go ba... - Huge clock at the top.

- This is the clock that you just said, right?

You remember a flat area. - Yeah, yeah, a flat area.

- But do you remember where the house is?

- I think it was down here.

What street is this? - Watch your...

Watch your step. - Gennaro Tucci, yes.

- Is this jogging your memory at all?

- That's a long time ago. That I remember.

I remember the square.

28.

Where are we? - That's number 30.

- Then that's it.

- So this, we think,

could be the house where your father was born.

- It's only the second time, and obviously, memory fades.

- Yes, I know, I know.

I've always wanted to come here, you know,

'cause I never came... - No.

- When we were young. But I'm glad we saw the town.

- And the square. - Beautiful little town.

Yeah, so pretty. - Yeah.

- Should we eat? - Sure.

- Sounds like a good idea.

Is there a Ristorante Tucci?

- Maybe, but I'm not gonna let you try to find it.

Marzi sits in the valley of the Savuto,

known as the Valley of Wheat,

where fed by the mineral-rich waters of the mountains,

there's a thousand-year-old history of bread-making.

And there's a place nearby still making bread

according to ancient Calabrian tradition.

- Wow.

Buongiorno.

- Stanley, Stanley, Giovanna.

- Pina Olivetti runs Panificio Cuti,

one of the most famous artisanal bakeries

in the region.

- Si. - Ah.

- Oh, my God, that is very heavy.

- Oof-ah. - That's a heavy bread.

- Yeah, yeah. - Oh.

- Si.

- Si, si. - Si, si, si, si.

- Yeah. - Yeah.

- Sourdough is a living, breathing bread

that has been made since the beginning

of human civilization, but is somehow still

notoriously tricky to get right.

Oh, my gosh.

That's so hot.

- Si, si, si.

It's slow, natural fermentation means

this bread stays fresh much longer

than ordinary bread.

No trivial matter in a region

where food wasn't always plentiful.

- Si, si, si.

- Si, si.

- Si.

- Knowing we've come to Marzi in search of things past,

Pina's prepared us a little treat that would have been

on every family table a hundred years ago,

a filled bread bowl calledmorzello,

which is typically stuffed with meat

and seasonal vegetables

like local favorite, cime di rapa,

or broccoli rabe.

- Oh, you smell it...

The bitterness of the cime. - Yeah.

- This ingeniously portable dish meant that farmers,

hunters, and even stonemasons like my grandfather

could carry a not-so-little slice of home

anywhere they went.

- Buono.

- Si.

- That's beautiful.

Not so bad.

- Oh, my gosh, look at the size of it.

- No, you're first.

- There you go.

- Delicious. - Delicious.

- So good 'cause it's all soaks in.

- Mm.

- Mm.

- That's good for you. That's great.

- It was. Really good. - That's delicious.

As we head out of Marzi,

I think of my grandfather Stanislao leaving Calabria

and of that special bond that Italian immigrants have

to food that reminds them of home.

Perhaps that's why bread is never missing on our table.

- While my parents are relaxing

by the pool or the bar,

I'm heading out to a place I've always wanted to visit.

Built atop a 150-foot cliff

overlooking the warm waters of the Tyrrhenian Sea,

Tropea is Calabria's crown jewel.

Over the centuries, it's been prone

to almost constant invasions from neighboring empires

who all wanted to possess this enchanting town.

But I'm here to wrap my head around something

of a botanical mystery.

Tropea is renowned all across Italy

for its singular red onions.

They are so sweet, they can be served

in everything from pastas to preserves,

even in ice cream, if you're so inclined.

I'm not.

- Si.

To find out what makes these onions so special,

I'm meeting up with Tropean restaurateur,

Michele Pugliese.

- Si.

- Si.

- Yeah.

- Ah.

- Yeah. Yeah.

- Yeah.

Despite their incredible popularity,

the Tropea onion only grows in a small stretch

of coastline surrounding the city.

Just a few miles further out,

and it loses that sweetness that makes it unique.

- Yeah.

- All right.

Wow, yeah.

That's gorgeous.

- Dolcissimo.

- Si.

- Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm.

- First grown here over 3,000 years ago,

Tropea onions were an unexpected gift

brought by foreign conquerors from the Middle East.

- Ah. Yeah.

- Ah.

- Si, si.

- Your madre.

- Tropiano.

- Si. Si.

- Si.

- Si.

- Okay.

- Though today the Tropea onion is beginning

to be produced commercially,

there are still a few farmers left

like Francesco and Onofrio who harvest their onions by hand

using only traditional irrigation methods.

- Dalle... le montagne.

- Si.

- Si.

- Si.

- Si.

Yeah.

- Yeah.

- Si.

Yeah.

- Despite having suffered invasions

for over 3,000 years,

Calabrians are tenaciously hospitable.

So Michele's not allowing me to leave Tropea

before eating something at his restaurant,

l'Osteria della Cipolla Rossa,

the Red Onion Inn.

- Si.

The restaurant is run by Michele's wife, Romana,

who is so obsessed with farm-to-table dining

that she refuses to own a fridge.

- Buongiorno.

- Hi, Romana.

- The Osteria's specialty is the unapologetically simple

red onion spaghetti.

But don't underestimate simplicity.

- Si.

- Si, si.

Si. - Si, si.

- Si.

- Oh, si.

- Si.

- Oh, my gosh.

Mm, mm, mm, mm.

That's delicious.

There's nothing to this but onions, broth, and pasta.

But the combination of these three simple ingredients

become something sublime.

It's oniony, but it's not oniony.

I don't know how to describe it.

- Huh?

- No.

No.

- Okay.

It's hard not to be enchanted by the beauty of Tropea

and its unique red onions.

But to me, the real magic of this place

is the warmth and hospitality of its people.

- The Calabrians have always had to rely

on the sea for sustenance.

And surrounded by water on three sides,

the catch here is as unique as it is plentiful.

Look at that. - Silver snake.

- God, they're incredible. - Yes.

- They look fake. - Yeah.

- I've come to a Calabrian fish auction

to get a sense of the catch.

- But because I'm a fish out of water,

respected restaurateur, Johnny Giordano,

is showing me around.

Is it octopus and...

- Octopus. - Everything?

Even squid and everything? - Everything you can try here.

Tuna, swordfish, scorfano, sharks.

- Whoa.

- This is a big squid, calamari.

- He doesn't want them to... - No, he scream all the time.

He got to fight with everybody

because nobody gotta take the fish.

- No sea creature is more respected or prized

in Calabria than the swordfish.

Catching one of these sabered sea monsters is not easy,

but it is lucrative.

A single fish can fetch up to $5,000.

- Yesterday, 20.

- 20? - Yes.

- Really? - Today, only one.

Every day is different.

- Every day's different, yeah. - You want to buy it?

- Uh, I don't have room in my hotel.

- Johnny's promised some fresh swordfish

awaits me at his place.

But before getting lunch,

we stop off to have a look at his hometown, Scilla.

This town dates back to a time

when Calabria was at the heart of Magna Graecia,

Greece's empire in Italy.

Wow.

That's Sicily?

- Yes, this Sicily, Ganzirri.

The other side of this is Scilla and Charybdis.

- Ancient Greek legends like "The Odyssey"

told of the perilous passage in this narrow strait,

where sailors were forced to choose

between a vicious sea monster called Scylla

and a deadly whirlpool.

- Is this true or is... - No, it's true.

It's true. - It's not mythical?

- Wow.

They catch swordfish.

- Remarkably, a traditional form of swordfishing

passed down from the ancient Greeks is still practiced

here in the waters around Scilla to this day.

- With their hands?

- Mm-hmm.

- We're heading to the family's restaurant,

the Prince of Scilla.

And I'm in for the royal treatment.

- This one. - Nice fish.

- Yeah, yeah, yeah.

This swordfish was caught so recently,

you can eat it straight off the bone.

- Yeah.

- Mm-hmm. - Fresh parsley.

- Caught this fresh and sliced this fine,

it's like prosciutto and smoked salmon

had a love child.

Oh, it's so good.

Wow, it's incredible.

- Next, Johnny wants to cook me something more traditional,

scialatielli alla ghiotta,

long, thin strands of pasta in a swordfish ragu of sorts.

Mm-hmm.

He starts things off with a sofrito

of garlic and sweet Tropea onion.

- Si.

- Yeah.

- I'd like to have a shirt made out of basil.

- Yeah.

- Yeah.

- That's ready.

- Yeah.

- Si. Si.

Cheers. - Thank you for coming.

- Thank you for having me.

- Yes.

- Mm.

- Mm. - Is it good?

- Delicious. - Mm.

Yeah.

Yep.

You should open a restaurant.

- That's really good.

- And see the swordfish boats?

- And they're up in the... - Yes.

- Sort of crow's nest up there.

- It's really beautiful.

- It's curious to think of Calabrians still heading out

into these perilous waters

to battle against ancient sea monsters.

But in this land of myth and legend,

the sea is a mirror to the soul.

- Wow.

Look at those mountains.

I'm leaving Calabria's coast behind

and heading deep into the back country

of the Aspromonte mountains.

Rugged and shrouded in folklore,

few tend to venture through its impenetrable forests.

But I'm heading to meet a chef who's opened a restaurant

in this most remote corner of Calabria.

- This river that flows in our property

is called the Calabretto and comes directly

from our big mountain, the Aspromonte.

All the southern part of Calabria

is just surrounded by Aspromonte.

- Nino Rossi has been living and working out here

since 2016 making food that celebrates

the unique biodiversity of this mountain.

And this land's been in your family

for many generations?

- I think we are sixth generation.

- Did you grow up here?

- I grew up in Rome.

But I've never stopped being a Calabrian child.

- Growing up in a well-to-do family

a thousand miles away from here,

Nino's keen interest in traditional Calabrian cooking

came as a bit of a surprise to his friends and family.

You didn't train as a chef?

- I am a self-taught chef.

But at the same time, in the past,

I had opportunity to learn

from an ancient housekeeper...

- Yeah. - Called Maria.

- Yeah. - And that way,

I got all the cuisine from the people.

- Yeah, of course. - Then I put all the things

together and I start just experimenting.

Once I would like to learn how to make pastry...

- Yeah. - I start only make pastry.

So if you invite myself to a dinner...

- Yeah. - I would just show up

with one of my cakes and say, oh, this is for you.

- Right. You became obsessive. - Yeah, obsessive.

- Yes.

Over the last few years,

Nino's obsession has driven him

to turn this remote area into his culinary playground.

So this is where you do your foraging?

- Yeah. I used to walk along the river

and then go also higher into the mountain.

- Uh-huh. - But here you can find

a lot of special things.

This is the water mint.

It's wild and has a strong citrus taste, orange taste.

- Yeah.

- You know that once I poisoned myself.

- So this is safe? - No, this is safe.

- I'm gonna make it through.

Right? - Yeah, yeah.

- What did you poison yourself with?

What was it? - With the crocus.

And I thought it was white garlic.

And it was really...

- Yes, that can be very bad for you, I've heard.

- Yeah, yeah, but I studied a lot.

That's good.

- And I pretty know everything about this place.

- Right. - From the upper part,

we take the silver fir.

I show you.

- It's just a fir tree?

- White fir.

- Yeah, it's nice.

Really aromatic.

- Yeah.

I love it.

- So should we go cook?

- Yeah, I'm gonna cook for you.

- All right.

Nino's restaurant, Qafiz,

is a love letter to the Aspromonte

and the unique and undiscovered ingredients

that can be found only here on the mountain.

Today, he's preparing me a dish that has helped cement

his Michelin star, a dessert called Fire.

- This is a meringue.

- So it's just egg white and sugar and...

- Yeah. We put this vegetable carbon powder.

- So this is just charcoal? - Yeah.

- What did people think about it?

- A lot of people thinks that putting charcoal

in the meringue, it was something a little bit crazy.

- In 2021, over 60 wildfires ravaged Calabria,

leaving a trail of death and devastation

in Nino's beloved mountains.

- Foraging was completely different after the fire.

Because you can see a lot of mountainsides

completely black.

But at the same time, walking around,

you can see all this strong nature

and colors going through the ground...

- Right. - And just go up

and show its greatness. - Yeah.

- Then I came back home and say, okay,

I have to tribute the mountain.

- Nino's obsessive baking has paid off

in this tribute to the mountain.

It looks like glass.

After three hours in the oven,

the notoriously temperamental meringue

is perfectly light and crisp.

- Here we have silver fir balls.

These are silver fir extract, water, and lemon.

We make a base like this.

And then we bring the apple.

- So the apples come from the mountains, too?

- Yeah, it comes from Aspromonte.

I put the white chocolate foam.

I put back the white fir. - Mm-hmm.

- We had to call this dessert New Life After the Fire.

Because what we are building now is a new life,

giving the second opportunity to the mountain.

And this is like the last minutes of a fire.

- Yes, absolutely.

- So you have to taste it. - I will.

Thank you.

Oh, wow.

There's, like, a million different flavors in there.

- Yeah. - That's amazing.

- Citric and balsamic.

- Yeah. - And I love it.

- Oh, that's amazing.

And it just keeps, like...

- And with the apple...

- Yeah, yeah, absolutely.

That's just so good.

Just that's great.

Wow. Thank you.

It's not fancy tricks nor strange ingredients

that make Nino's food extraordinary.

It's that he's managed to perfectly capture

the alchemy and enduring beauty of this place.

- I've come to the northernmost point

of Calabria's Aspromonte,

to the mountain hamlet of Martone.

It's a town that's ailing from an issue

that's rampant throughout the region.

- Blighted by social and economic hardship,

there are over 200 mountain towns in Calabria

that are at risk of being abandoned.

- But not everyone is packing up their bags.

Annalisa Fiorenza is a farmer and local activist

who is using organic agriculture as a means

to create opportunities in her community.

- Yeah.

- Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Yeah, yeah. Yeah.

- Si.

- Si.

- But Annalisa has had to contend

with some deep-rooted issues that come with the territory.

These mountains are a stronghold

of the 'Ndrangheta, the notorious Calabrian mafia.

Formed in the 1800s, this brutal criminal syndicate

took root in the most impoverished

and rural parts of the region.

Today, they're one of the most powerful criminal networks

in the world

with an estimated $60 billion annual turnover.

- Mm.

- Yeah.

- The only way Annalisa has been able to survive

is by joining forces with a cooperative of local farmers

called GOEL Bio,

which helped her rebuild after she was attacked.

Today, a few members are meeting up

for their monthly lunch at a local restaurant,

La Collinetta, and Annalisa and I are joining.

- The restaurant is run by fellow farmer and chef,

Pino Trimboli,

who is preparing us a feast of Calabrian dishes.

Pino decided to join the cooperative in 2019

as a means to promote his incredible organic produce

outside of his restaurant.

- This is time-honored cooking.

And by time honored, I mean, like, the Stone Age.

Cooking in clay perfectly seals in

the flavors of the meat.

But there's a trade-off.

It takes over four hours per dish.

Oh!

- Oh, nice. Nice.

Pino's down-to-earth cooking would have been

a surefire success anywhere in Italy.

But running a thriving business

in this part of Calabria often comes at a price.

- Si.

- Ah, si, si, si, si, si.

- Si.

- Mm.

- Si.

- Yeah.

- Yeah.

Whenever somebody like Pino is threatened or attacked,

the cooperative gather around the victim to protect them,

even funding rebuilding efforts.

- Wow.

- Oh, my.

- Yes.

- Oh, yeah, put it down.

- It's a bold approach, but one that's working.

The cooperative hasn't suffered an attack

in five years.

And that's something worth celebrating.

Wow.

The bones.

- Come on.

This battle is by no means won.

But Pino and Annalisa's stories are a reminder

that food can be a powerful tool for social change.

It just falls apart.

- Si.

- It's delicious.

And there's reason to be hopeful,

because, as Pino says,

Calabria is made up of good people.

To Pino.

- A Pino. - Pino.

- To all of you.

- I remember this very distinctly.

But I don't remember it being as verdant as this.

Obviously, it was 48 years ago, so the trees were smaller.

Oh, yeah.

But, uh... - But you must have come

with neighborhood children. - Yeah, I guess.

My time in Calabria is coming to a close.

So my parents are joining me for one last trip.

We've come to visit my maternal grandparents' home,

Cittanova.

- And I never saw this all the times we've been here.

- No, I don't remember this.

Oh, time's up.

- Time's up.

- My grandfather, Vincenzo, was a battlefield medic

in World War I who emigrated to Westchester, New York,

where he met and married a girl from his hometown,

my grandmother, Concetta.

- That's an awful lot of people from a small city.

- "Italia, caduti in guerra."

Those who fell in the war.

This is our family, Tropeano... Tropeano, Tropeano.

- I'm so happy we saw this.

Never even known it was here.

- But there's another reason why we've come to Cittanova.

The last time we were here was on our first family trip

to Calabria in 1973.

We stayed then with my grandfather's family

and made a promise to return.

- Today we're keeping that promise

and finally getting to have an intimate family reunion...

Or as intimate as you can get with a family of this size.

- Si.

- I know, I know.

It's a lot of people.

- Hey. - Si, si.

- Let's go. Let's go.

In typical Calabrian fashion,

my relatives have been up day and night for half a week

preparing a feast of some of our favorite dishes.

Like this, stockfish Cittanova style.

This is a Tropeano family dish

that is very similar to the baccala and tomato sauce

that I grew up with.

- Si?

- Ah.

My mother would make this with, um...

- Si.

- Yeah.

Wow. - Wow? Si.

- It's so good. Si, si.

But no family feast, at least in our household,

is complete until you have these, zeppole.

- Si.

- These delicious deep fried beignet-like things,

often smothered in confectionary sugar,

are a staple at Italian American festivities.

But here in Calabria,

zeppole are made savory instead of sweet.

- What you think, Stan?

- They're good. - They're good.

- Mm.

It's a meal, though. - Are they as good as mine?

- I'm not answering that question.

Delicious. - Terribile.

- But another dish, a simple nameless preparation

of roasted goat, reminds me of that trip here

almost 50 years ago.

- Oh, si, si.

- Si.

Si.

- Si.

- Si.

I don't know, it had a great influence on me,

just driving up, getting it, putting it into the back

of the car, into the trunk of the car.

I mean, it was dead. But it was so good.

It was probably prepared like that.

- Yep. - Right?

Beautiful.

For our family, there's always been

a strange and magical bond with food

that drives so much of what we do.

- I believe that the food we enjoy together

strengthens the bonds we will share forever.

- Buon appetito.

- I'll take some potatoes.

- Oh, I love that.

- Grazie.

- Salute e cin cin. - Cin cin.

The region my family left behind all those years ago

is still as troubled as it is beautiful.

Oh, my God.

But the true magic of this land

is how it inspires people here to do things

that are equally as beautiful

and how everywhere you go...

Mm, mm, mm.

you will be treated like family.

A tutto noi.