Original subtitles

- There's a story that goes, when God created the world,

he took all the leftover bits

and wanted to make something beautiful with them,

so he made Sardinia.

And there's something to that.

Sardinia is really an island of bits and pieces,

in the best possible way.

Each local community is like an island of its own,

with wildly varying geography, languages...

- And food.

- Bello. - Wow.

Put together, you get a region

with a ferocious independent streak.

Cheers.

- A little bit Italian

and a little bit something else entirely.

Man.

Incredible.

I'm Stanley Tucci.

I'm fascinated by my Italian heritage,

so I'm travelling across Italy to discover how the food

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

as the people and their past.

Oh, in between my legs?

Sardinia is Italy's Wild West.

God damn it.

And although they respect tradition,

things here are never dull.

Ah! Ah! - Ah!

- Out here, nothing stands in the way of freedom...

- It's different. - Okay.

Because this is a place at the edge of reason.

I am very adventurous, but sometimes I have real fear.

I think this is one of those times.

Due West of Rome and right in the middle

of the Mediterranean Sea,

Sardinia is so cut off

from the rest of the Italian peninsula

that fellow compatriots joke about it

being a mini continent,

with customs and ideas all of its own.

Its capital, Cagliari, sits on the south coast.

For over five millennia, its vast harbor

has attracted visitors from far and wide

who, once here,

often find it very hard to leave.

Many have stayed to trade here,

others to conquer,

and a few, like food writer Letitia Clark,

have simply followed their hearts.

Ciao. - Ciao.

Lovely to meet you. - How are you?

It's so nice to meet you too. - Welcome to Cagliari.

- But you came from London...

- Because I fell in love. - 'Cause you fell in love.

- With a Sardinian. Yeah, exactly.

- And then you fell in love with Sardinia.

- Yeah. It's an incredible place

and it's very under-explored.

It has an amazingly rich culture.

And because it's an island, historical methods

have been preserved with such kind of tenacity,

it's amazing.

- Each wave of settlers has left its own mark

on the island's capital, so much so that eating here

is like going on the culinary equivalent

of an archaeological dig.

This is gorgeous.

- And there's some beautiful fish.

- Letitia has taken me to San Benedetto Market

to do some excavating.

- Parago, parago. - Is it like an orata?

- Si.

The fruits of the Mediterranean Sea

are everywhere you look.

But for Letitia, there's one delicacy from far-off shores

that trumps all the others.

- Okay, so this is bottarga, which is one of Sardinia's

most prized, most celebrated, most delicious products.

- Put simply, bottarga is fish roe

that's first salted, then cured.

This method of preservation was invented

over 3,000 years ago by the Phoenicians.

These renowned seafarers brought bottarga here

from modern-day Lebanon.

But it's only when made with the eggs

of Sardinia's gray mullet that something magical happens.

- So bottarga. - Shall we try it?

- Try.

Caviar of Sardinia.

- I could eat that all day.

- Buttery. - It is very buttery.

- Yeah. - And super salty.

- Have you tried the Sicilian one which is made from tuna?

- I have. I prefer this. - Prefer this one.

You're a fully-fledged Sardinian now.

If you say that the bottarga of Sardinia

is the best in Italy, they'll give you citizenship.

- Yeah, it's true. I know.

I need it.

After 3,000 years of trade, invasions, and conquests,

it seems the people of Cagliari have a knack

for taking the best of what's been brought here

and making it their own.

To further prove that point,

Letitia's taking me just south of Cagliari

to the Lagoon of Nora, to sample

yet another treat that washed up on these shores

a millennium or two ago.

And no, it's not a fish.

Hey, leave that fish alone.

Hi.

- Beautiful place for scaling a fish, right?

Yeah.

Oh, this is scorpionfish. - Scorpionfish.

And it's beautiful. It's super fresh.

Catch this morning.

- Head Chef Francesco Stara might be known

for his sparkling fresh seafood,

but at Fradis Minoris restaurant,

there's one local specialty he can't take off the menu,

fregola ai frutti di mare.

- So we start from the semola from the Urzulei area.

- It all starts with a pasta

that looks curiously like couscous.

- You're just gonna put a few drops of warm water

and start to create the lumps.

It is relaxing.

- It is relaxing. Yeah.

Fregola's origins are difficult to unearth.

Wow.

Some say it was brought here by the Phoenicians.

Others that it came from North Africa.

- Supposedly a woman who could make fregola

was deemed to be kind of good marriage material.

- Really?

- And that was her kind of proposition

to her potential husband.

I can make fregola, so I'm gonna make you a good wife.

- Really?

Well, I'm gonna have to talk to my wife about that.

- There we go.

- Cheers. - Salute.

- Salute. - Salute.

Luckily for us, this island has fantastic beer.

It's like 90-something degrees in Sardinia now.

And we've just made this...

You've just made this beautiful thing.

- We've done nothing. We were just...

- Yeah. We've done nothing.

We had to have a beer.

- There we go.

- It's not just fregola's larger grains

that distinguish this dish from its North African cousin.

It's also the tradition of serving it with fish.

- The scorpionfish that we got this morning,

what we're gonna do is just, we're gonna fillet it.

- It's a beautiful flesh, isn't it?

Yeah.

- This is it. - So there's that.

- Then we will blanch our octopus.

There we go.

- Gorgeous.

After being toasted to enhance the flavor,

the fregola are quickly blanched.

- So you're cooking it like pasta.

- Yeah. - Yeah.

- Just season with a bit of olive oil.

- Often this dish can be hearty fare,

but at Fradis Minoris, it becomes something refined.

Is this the...

The scorpionfish, raw?

- Yes, it's the raw scorpionfish.

We're gonna finish it up with some bottarga.

- And finally, a rich tomato broth

flavored with fragrant local herbs

and the shells of the day's catch.

- Andiamo.

In honor of all the gifts from visitors past and present,

it's only right and proper to celebrate Cagliari

within site of the old Phoenician ruins of Nora.

- Wow. Thank you.

- One fregola, with mixed seafood.

- How beautiful.

- Oh, you're going to eat with us.

- Yeah, please. - Perfect.

- Okay.

- Buon appetito. - I'm very excited.

Oh, yum.

That's great.

It's so delicate.

- Yes. - Fantastico.

- And I like the fact that every little piece

is slightly different. - Yeah.

They are like little pearls, aren't they?

- Yeah, they are. It's, like, nubbly.

- It is nubbly.

Francesco has taken an ingredient

once foreign to these shores and transformed it

into something uniquely Sardinian.

- Those who know the island well

say there are really two Sardinias.

The coast with its many foreign occupations

and multicultural mixings,

and up here, 50 miles into the island's interior.

Amongst the thistles and the thorns,

this harsh, brutal landscape.

It's a place where people have always retreated

to escape marauding armies

and where little has changed for millennia.

These structures here are known as nuraghe.

They were built by a people who lived here

almost 4,000 years ago, so they're practically

as old as the pyramids.

The ancient landscape is famous for bandits,

age-old customs, and being very anti-authority.

Rumor has it that even the mafia failed

to take hold here as people aren't interested

in group activities of any kind.

But one group dynamic is not just allowed,

it's positively encouraged.

- Luigi Manias and his family

have been keeping beehives since 1631,

and Luigi wants to show me the ropes.

- No.

- Si.

I'm not going near the bees.

We have a long shoot ahead.

If I, you know, multiple stings, that'd be bad.

- All spring, the bees in these hives

work industriously to collect pollen

from the diverse wildflowers that flourish here.

- The result is a thousand-flower honey.

- Oh, my gosh. Beautiful.

Absolutely beautiful.

Oh, my God.

- Mmm. Mmm.

It's so sweet.

Delicious.

Luigi has won multiple awards for his honey,

but there's one nectar so prized,

he keeps it hidden away indoors.

Wow.

- Si, si, si.

It's different. - It's the opposite.

- It's different. - Okay.

- Stanley.

- This is miele di corbezzolo.

For over 2,000 years, it's been made

from the white, bell-shaped flowers of the corbezzolo,

or wild strawberry tree.

The blossoms produce limited nectar,

so this honey is something of a connoisseur's choice.

- Prego.

When the Romans occupied Sardinia two millennia ago,

Cicero said, "Everything Sardinia produces is bad.

Even the honey is bitter."

- No, no, no.

No, no, no, no.

But for Sardinians,

let's just say it's like catnip.

- Wet leaves. Yes.

- It smells like smoke.

It tastes like smoke.

Smoke.

- Yeah.

- Because of its strong flavor, locals often pair

bitter honey with rich meats.

So Luigi's friend, Giovanni, has been spit-roasting a lamb.

- Yeah. Yeah.

Yes!

Yes!

- Yeah? Yeah?

No?

- Legend has it that after stealing

from Roman landowners,

the wily thieves would repair to the hills

and enjoy this dish, smothered in the same bitter honey

that their occupiers had scoffed at.

That's incredible

- Mmm. - Bello.

- Wow.

It doesn't taste bitter at all. It's sweet.

But also the fat, mixing in with the fat, it's perfect.

- This is the food of resistance.

Wow.

A delicious resistance.

That is not what I expected.

Okay, stop filming.

- Stop. Now.

- Bandits at heart, the crew can't resist

giving us a helping hand.

- Amazing. Grazie. - Amazing.

- Grazie. Grazie.

- Climbing further into Sardinia's interior,

you reach an untouched region containing

the island's hardest hills and steepest mountains.

It's known as Barbagia.

Here, shepherds live from the land

as their ancestors did,

with no one to interfere with them.

But life here is tough.

Ciao.

- Ah.

Each summer, Antonio Putzu spends

three hard months herding Sardo sheep on this mountain.

But like the local shepherds, the sheep enjoy their liberty.

- But it's a necessary freedom.

Pecorino Sardo, the island's coveted cheese,

can only be made from the milk of wild-grazing Sardo sheep.

- Si.

- Okay. Good. Thank God. Thank God.

- Si. Oh, in between my legs? Like this?

- Yeah. Now what? Oh, I see.

I swear, it's not just me.

Hand milking is harder than it looks.

God damn it!

I'm so afraid of hurting it.

You do it.

For Antonio, this hard work is worth it

for the distinctive, fatty milk

the Sardo sheep produce.

That's a lot of milk. Wow.

- Oh, my God. It's delicious.

- Yeah.

- While much of the island's grassland

has been sold to private owners,

these rocky outcrops are still owned by the Sardinian people.

- Grazie.

Beautiful.

The milk from the Sardo sheep is used

in a surprising range of cheeses.

- This Pecorino Sardo is made during winter

when grass and herbs are plentiful.

Yeah.

Giving the cheese a mildly aromatic flavor.

That's nice.

- But I've heard whisperings of another,

more notorious cheese made in this region.

- Oh, no, those?

- Yeah?

- Due to the presence of parasites,

it's illegal to sell casu marzu commercially,

but Antonio makes something close to it,

parasites not included.

- There's a reason Antonio works on the mountains

and not in marketing.

But here goes.

Mmm.

- No, it's nice.

That's really nice.

Outside, Antonio and his fellow shepherds

are making a dish as old as the surrounding hills,

sa ventre.

It's a kind of Sardinian haggis,

and it all starts with another

less than conventional ingredient,

sheep's blood.

- Pecorino Sardo is added

to bring a nutty, buttery flavor to the mixture.

And flatbread gives it body and texture.

- To balance the meaty richness of the dish,

Antonio has sourced wild mint from the mountains.

- Oh, yeah.

- Wow.

The mixture is then poured into a sheep's stomach.

- I am very adventurous, but...

sometimes, I have real fear.

I think this is one of those times.

Oof.

Cooked for 20 minutes, the sa ventre is now ready.

But I'm not sure I'm ready for it.

Cheers.

It's really good. It's really good.

And I'm not saying it because my new friends are here.

The mint and pecorino temper the flavor

of the blood and offal, like a perfectly seasoned sausage.

- It's delicious.

I don't know that I'll be making it at home,

but it's delicious.

- As a parting gift, Antonio and his friends

are sharing a traditional song in the local Olianese dialect

about two shepherds who slaughter a sheep

to make sa ventre.

- I just think it's gorgeous.

It's very peaceful.

- It's very quiet. Yeah. - Yes.

I don't want to tell anybody about it.

Five miles west of the Sardinian mainland

sits the small island of San Pietro,

home to just one town, Carloforte.

It's an extraordinarily close-knit community here,

with shared roots and a shared dialect

dating back over 300 years, when the town was founded

by just 30 families from Liguria.

- We have the double language, Italian and Ligurian.

- Yes. And Ligurian. Yeah.

I absolutely love it!

Chef Luigi Pomata is taking me to discover

the activity that's always bound this community together,

tuna fishing.

- We have a respect for the tuna.

- Yeah, yeah.

- If Carloforte exists, it exists

because we have the tuna.

- Yeah. Let me see your tattoo.

- It's Carloforte Island.

- Oh, I see. Yeah. - And the tuna.

- Oh, that's good. I like that.

It's not surprising tuna is something

of a local obsession.

For two months a year, fishermen come together

to catch the coveted bluefin tuna,

as it migrates here from the East Atlantic.

Used in the finest sushi restaurants,

bluefin is pretty special.

And to catch it, they use an equally special system

of nets known as tonnare.

- Here we have the nets.

The big line we call coda is one kilometer.

- Really? - Yeah.

- The coda blocks the path of the migrating tuna.

As they swim around it,

they're funneled into a sequence

of netted chambers, with gaps wide enough

for smaller fish to escape.

The largest tuna enter a final chamber,

where fishermen work together in a finely tuned drill

to lift them out of the sea.

Those are all the chambers?

- It's the chamber. Yeah.

- There's no collateral...

- No.

- Damage or anything? - No.

It's sustainable.

- To avoid overfishing, the fishermen here

never take more than 8% of the migrating tuna,

ensuring the Atlantic bluefin population

remains a very healthy size.

- When the weight is okay, they open the nets

and 1,000 tuna, 2,000 tuna go out.

That is sustainable.

- Luigi's Ligurian ancestors learned this way of fishing

in Tunisia, but here in Carloforte,

they've built a community around it.

And at his family restaurant, Luigi is known

to locals as the King of Tuna.

What have you got, Luigi?

- The tuna belly, in our bellies.

You put the belly in the belly. - Yeah, belly in the belly.

You want to try? - Yes!

Oh, my God, yes.

That's the fatty...

- Yes, this is... This is the chutoro.

- Yeah, the toro, yeah. Mmm-mmm-mmm.

- You want a taste? - Yes.

- I like this tuna because the stomach is empty.

- Once inside the tonnare nets,

the tuna don't eat,

so their flesh is uncontaminated

by the flavors of other fish.

Oh, man!

Incredible.

- Here, the taste is natural. - Yeah.

- No anchovies, no mackerel, nothing.

- Luigi's using this tuna in a local family favorite,

a pasta dish called cassulli alla Carlofortina.

- Olive oil, pine nuts, and we blend.

- He's combining it with pesto and cassulli pasta,

both rooted in Ligurian tradition.

- It's the pasta we use for the Sunday.

You know, when all people come, when family come...

- Right, right. - And we do the pasta.

- Your grandfather... - Yeah.

- Started this restaurant, right?

- Yeah, three generation.

- And will your son do it too?

- I wish.

I wish.

As you can expect, if your family eats tuna

day in and day out for every meal,

you get all sorts of ideas about what to do with it.

So you're gonna use the boiled tuna.

- The boiled tuna, yes. - Right.

Yeah, well...

See, I've always thought tuna should be

cooked lightly or not at all, but Luigi is adamant.

- You want to taste? - Sure.

And for him, it's a great way to retain

the fish's natural moisture.

It's good.

I prefer that.

- We take out the skin.

And we put the tomatoes in.

Now we get the tuna boiling.

And we do that.

- Beautiful pasta.

- And now we put the pesto.

- Yeah. - Never cook the pesto.

- No.

- A nice portion.

- Yeah, that's beautiful.

- And just in the end, we put the pecorino cheese.

- A little pecorino. - Yeah.

You want a taste? - Yeah!

I thought you'd never ask.

I'm still not convinced by the idea of boiled tuna.

- That's for you. - Thank you.

But it's Luigi's family tradition,

so I'm keeping an open mind.

- It's okay? Gonna be all right?

Yeah.

- I mean, who am I to argue with the King of Tuna?

That's very okay. That's delicious.

Who wants to look at how beautiful that is?

I'm never using any other kind of tuna from now on.

It's the sheer individuality of people like Luigi

that keeps Carloforte feeling and tasting

totally distinct from anywhere else you'll find in Sardinia.

- Buongiorno.

- Si.

Nice.

Oh, my God.

- Si.

Doesn't it look like a pork pie?

You can respond to me. - It does look like a pork pie.

- Thank you. Thanks. Thanks for your help.

Sitting on the northwest coast of Sardinia

is the city of Alghero,

known to locals as Barceloneta.

It's had a distinctly Spanish flavor

ever since the 14th century,

when it was conquered by the Kingdom of Aragon

from northeast Spain.

Protected by the sea and the city walls,

the people of Alghero have a deep attachment

to their local identity.

At the local fish market,

I'm meeting Chef Antonietta Salaris,

who considers herself Algherese first

and Sardinian second.

Hey, Giuseppe.

- My understanding of the local dialect

is limited, to say the least.

But I've always understood lobster.

- Si, si. Si.

- Okay.

- Okay.

- The pride of the local community,

Alghero's lobsters are considered

among the best in the world.

And the secret to their delicate flavor

is in the local waters.

The Gulf of Alghero is saltier than the ocean

and filtered by a red coral reef.

It's unusually clean.

At Antonietta's fish restaurant,

lobster, or the Queen of the Sea, as locals call it,

has pride of place.

- Antonietta is making a local dish

called lobster alla Catalana,

which is prepared with a fresh salad.

Si.

- Whoa! Look at that.

Antonietta belongs to a long line of Sardinian women

who, since medieval times, have managed not only the home

but often the family business.

Mmm-mmm-mmm.

- Oh, my God. Yeah.

In America, the eggs tend to be thrown out.

But Antonietta blends them with a simple vinaigrette

to add a salty sweet flavor.

- Why is that sound so satisfying?

On goes the Catalan salad of onions,

vinaigrette, and tomatoes.

But the local lobster is the star.

Look at that. Oh, my God.

- Beautiful.

Alghero lobster has admirers across the world.

Queen Elizabeth II even requested it

for her wedding banquet.

- Prego. - Grazie. Oh, my gosh.

So beautiful.

- But there's room for only one sovereign

in this restaurant.

- Mmm. - Bravo.

- Si.

- Sardinian Catalans have had 600 years

to develop the perfect way to eat a lobster.

And here, under Antonietta's reign,

no one will be allowed to forget it.

Wow.

This is so good.

I have to toast to you because this is just

so f... delicious.

Cheers.

- Cheers, everybody.

- Across the island's interior,

many smaller communities have fallen into decay,

as jobs in rural industries have become fewer and fewer.

But in Battista, in Northeast Sardinia,

baker Simonetta Bazzu came up with a radical plan

to bring her family village back to life.

She bought it.

- Si.

- Simonetta fears that ancient ways of cooking

could be lost as people leave the island,

so she's restoring these buildings

and creating a pioneering cooking school here.

- Si.

As part of her mission, she's been gathering

the island's endangered recipes.

So far, she's discovered over a thousand types of bread...

My God.

Often created for special occasions.

What is that?

- And this is the bread for Easter.

And we make for... to give children.

- Oh, really? - Yes.

- Looks like a mummy. - And... mm-mm.

- One of the island's most celebrated bread recipes

is pane carasau, a 3,000-year-old flatbread.

Traditionally, women would come together to produce

large batches all at once.

And Simonetta has brought in two recruits,

Chiara and Francesca, to demonstrate.

You're the best dressed bread makers

I've ever seen in my life.

- Yes. - Yes.

So you make the dough.

- Mm-hmm.

- Si.

- Beautiful.

Known as carta da musica, music paper,

the bread is meant be rolled so thin

that music can be read through it.

- Oh, yeah.

- Nowadays, pane carasau tends to be made

using conventional ovens.

But Simonetta prefers the authentic flavor

of the wood-fired oven,

even if it requires a production line.

- Si.

In the extreme heat,

the dough inflates like a balloon.

Yes.

It's like a magic act.

- But this traditional method comes with its challenges.

- Ooh! No. - Oh! Aww.

Ah! Ah! - Ah!

- No.

- While Simonetta's baking the dough,

Chiara and Francesca slice the balloons in two.

Mmm-mmm-mmm.

Each half is then put back in the oven for a few seconds

to toast.

- These ancient methods still have

the power to bring people together,

but the proof is in the pudding.

No, I'm kidding. I'm kidding. I'm kidding.

It's delicious.

In the Battista of old, food was in short supply,

so families would cook a warming dish

with any stale bread left over.

- Si, si, si.

- Si.

The pane carasau is layered with a lamb

and vegetable broth, local cheeses, and wild mint.

It's then cooked for 15 minutes.

How beautiful.

Served at big family celebrations,

the dish is known as zuppa cuata.

No. - Yeah. Yeah.

- Jesus.

- A hidden soup.

- Yes. - Oh, I love that.

Yeah?

- Wow.

In Simonetta's hidden soup lies

an unconcealed commitment.

By reviving ancient tradition, she'll breathe life

into her village once more.

And this spirit extends across all of Sardinia.

There's a sense that each community,

however small, enriches the whole island.

And it may be that Sardinia's very diversity,

its bits and pieces, is exactly what defines

the character of this island.

A mini continent indeed.