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RAVELLO

RISTORANTE  SIGILGALDA,  HOTEL  RUFOLO

Few things stimulate my appetite more than a good storm. I mean a proper storm, with crashing thunder, torrential rain and flashes of electrical discharge against a black sky. And this was exactly what I encountered, as I struggled across the operatic set which is the piazza duomo in Ravello – trying the while to prevent the umbrella from lifting me off my sodden feet. Even the cathedral looked a little nervous at the ferocity of the heavens. But the prospect of good food kept me going, for I had high hopes of my destination: the Ristorante Sigilgalda in the Hotel Rufolo.

I should reassure you immediately about the weather in Ravello. It is usually warm and calm. Indeed, on my stately promenades along its picturesque streets, I have normally been obliged to seek out the shade, for I am careful about the amount of sunshine I allow onto my person. Many visitors to this prettiest of towns on the Amalfi coast, I have observed, share my taste in this matter. This is probably because they are British. Ravello - with its spectacular views, ancient architecture and fine hotels – is, indeed, the sort of place to which the better sort of British traveller naturally gravitates. No riff-raff here, thank goodness. And certainly none, of course, at the Hotel Rufolo.

The hotel is right next to the gardens of the famous Villa Rufolo, in the very centre of Ravello. Soaked and hungry, I was met at the door by Rosaria Schiavo, a member of the family which has owned the establishment for over a century. Her charm and good humour, as she relieved me of my gamp and led me to the first-floor dining room, were as effective as an hour before a roaring fire. I arrived at the door of the Ristorante Sigilgalda in high spirits and somehow feeling completely dry. Perhaps I should have attributed this small miracle to the intercession of the local saint, whose feast had been celebrated with the assistance of the town band that very afternoon.

Now I was in the hands of Franco, a waiter – dressed, like his colleagues, in black tie and white jacket – who looked after me with impressive courtesy and efficiency for the rest of the evening. I settled myself into a chair covered in striped white silk and surveyed the stylish and comfortable room around me. Beneath my feet were coloured and patterned tiles, a typical feature of these parts. My table-cloth was white, as I like it to be. Nearby, an automatic piano was delivering its programme of soothing tunes. Most impressive, though, was the panorama beyond the plate glass windows. 1,200 feet below, the sea was being flung this way and that by the storm, and along the coast and up the cliffs the rage of the gods was being made manifest in light and sound. I wanted to eat.

And eat I did – substantial portions of well-presented food from the kitchen of Chef Gerardo Savo. Signor Savo is a local fellow (he was born in Amalfi in 1967) and he takes seriously the cooking of his area. Indeed, one of his books is The Past and the Future of Amalfi Cuisine. He came out to say hello and to show me a fine fish, caught locally that day and on the menu. I demurred, having already decided upon the langoustines. These came with bread and wild herbs and were full of taste. I might have preferred them shell-less, but there was no denying that the multitude of shells on the plate did make a remarkable sight. My pasta was fusilli - brought to my table before it was cooked, so that I could see that it had been freshly made - with provolone cheese crisp and aubergines from the hotel’s own garden. The beef came on a big red plate. This was tasty, tender fillet, wrapped in basil and served with bacon and potatoes. I asked for some chips, too, and found them to be home-made and truly excellent. My pudding of iced nougat with acacia honey and fruit was a fitting ending to this enjoyable evening, being both well-balanced and satisfying. (These four courses were 65 euros.)

Apart from the champagne (Pommery is attractively priced at 47 euros), all the wines on the list are Italian. Prices range from 17 euros for a local white to 180 euros for the 2004 vintage of Sassicaia. Other ‘super Tuscans’ include Solaia and Ornellaia (both from the 2003 vintage and both 170 euros). I tried two local bottles. My white was possessed of discreet fruit and the nose of a damp cellar (Gran Furor Furore, Marisa Cuomo, 2006 – 22 euros), and my red, although still young and tannic, was packed with the flavours of ripe damsons (Tramonti Riserva, A’Scippata, Apicella, 2001 – 38 euros).

By the time I left, the storm had abated. The passion of the heavens had been spent and the stone streets were beginning to dry. As I walked through the quietness, I reflected that I had eaten and drunk well at the Ristorante Sigilgalda. I commend it to your attention.

ADDRESSES

RISTORANTE  SIGILGALDA
Hotel Rufolo, via San Francesco 1, 84010 Ravello, Italy.
Telephone +39 089 857 133
Fax +39 089 857 935
Email: info@hotelrufolo.it
www.hotelrufolo.it
Closed: January and February

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