Mola di Bari is a small fishing village on the Adriatic Coast, very near the bigger town of Bari where we’d wandered the winding alleys watching the Nonnas making Orecchietti and touring the Swabian Castle Svevo. Our little Agriturismo was just outside of Mola di Bari and, after our afternoon of cooking lunch, Rita had planned for us to go to the harbor to see the fishermen come in from their day at sea.

Anara hates fish but decided to go with me on this little field trip to soak in just a little more Italian culture.

I love a good photo opp and am always up for adventure. So off the two of us went. Rita timed this perfectly- as do all locals when they want the very freshest, first-off-the-boat, catch-of-the-day.

Motoring in and tying off, each crew of fishermen began to haul box after box of iced menagerie ashore- clawed, finned, and shelled. Some even smiled for the camera!!

There was animated chatter and occasional bursts of laughter at jokes and stories, but it was also occasionally obvious that a foreign lady was amongst the crowd (who didn’t speak one word of Italian). Which made me fair game for being a topic. I got the feeling that a bit of added bravado and a few extra large fish stories were being passed around for my amused benefit. At one point, one of the co-op leader/fish buyer/wholesalers took a bit of an extra interest and asked Rita “why she was bringing beautiful, young women to the docks”. “Are you trying to find her a husband? I am available…”

I couldn’t help it.

I burst our laughing, and awkwardly turned my attention back to the fish in the iced crates.

I hope I didn’t offend, but I literally had NO idea how to react or reply. Was I supposed to be witty? Was he expecting a date? What the heck? I just don’t think I could come home to fish stink every day.

ETA: Anara reminded me that they also sang us an Italian fishing song!!

With my clear non-interest, he continued his haggling over the weights, the quality, and astute analysis of the current Molanese fish market and I wandered off to the actual retail fish market building across the street…..

… which was obviously a MAN’S world. Maybe a woman hadn’t stepped foot in there in centuries, but I played the dumb tourist card and boldly took a few more photos until Rita came to find me.

I did ask about the glaring lack of women, and she confirmed that indeed, the art of buying fish is considered a man’s job.

We only took home one small furry crab, given to Rita for free, (did you know that “furry” crabs even exist?!) to use as flavoring for the broth for dinner that night. But I adore my fishy photos and it was an experience I’ll never forget.

Once “home”, we all got to cooking again and WOW was it ever a meal! Those Italians sure know how to eat! Jeez, Louise!

Remember those orecchiette the Nonnas were making in Bari? Well, Rita had homemade orecchiette on the menu and had all 3 of us expert handmade pasta makers in now time! Such fun!!! Victoria, Rita’s kitchen helper showed us how to make the dough, then gave each of us some. We rolled our pasta dough “snakes”, then perfected our “little ears pasta”-making technique giggling endlessly. I was declared the “winner” (remember I sucked at focaccia earlier and was voted off that island?). So, YAY ME!

Set aside for later, we started on the meat dishes. Yep, that meat we’d bought from the butcher on the way in. Little roulades were expertly prepared with herbs and parmesan stuffed in the middle, rolled, then stewed in a rich wine and tomato sauce for a couple of hours.

Rita also boiled some sausages in a wine. I think she thought 15 olive-harvesting men were going to join us. LOL!!

What else…? A gorgeous cream sauce for the orecchiette so we could have it two ways. I mean, why not?!

<burp>

OH!! And some rigatoni to wash it all down? Sure, I’m game. I mean one dish was more than enough, but 5?!

No Italian meal is complete without dessert, right? A light, fluffy Lemon-Ricotta Cake would be just perfect. And it was. So perfect in fact, we had it for breakfast the next day too.

It was a given that there was plenty of red wine. I mean, duh. Focaccia and olive oil? Yep, had that too. Did I feel sick afterwards. Maybe a little. Was it delicious? YOU KNOW IT!!!

We were exhausted from a long day of cooking and laughing and traveling and touring. Our cozy bed was just perfect for Italian Seaside dreams….