By Dylan Dias
Southern Italy is a painting. Endless cerulean, like the sea. Coral and daffodil stippled into the evening sky. And the textures of its land – spectacular, stoned cliffsides, ancient towns built into its peninsulas, and enchanting coastlines of mythical beauty. In Sant’Agata sui Due Golfi, just south of Sorrento, I was there. In truth, it’s difficult to express what that felt like. Romantically, almost, I found myself staring longingly into the horizon from my balcony – tracing the lines of the green mountains and counting the terracotta rooftops of the villas that adorn them. But if there was any way to capture that feeling; if there was any way to distill those colours into a time, a place, and a single, transcendent moment – it would be through the lantern-lit, pearl white doors, and majestic menu, of Don Alfonso 1890.
Quietly sitting at the base of the historic, boutique hotel of its own name and quilted by the lush verdure of its grounds, Don Alfonso’s intimate restaurant personifies its spirit. Contemporary, pristine, and romantic but conceptualized through the storied antiquity of all that has come before it – the Iaccarino family, the heritage of their home, and the craftsmanship behind profound produce and profound cooking that has lived and grown generation to generation. Both, in a way, a mirror into Don Alfonso’s legacy of place – a vibrant institution and cultural edifice of soil, land, and water steeped in millennia of regional history, as well as the ingenuity and passion of the family that has created it.
Livia, Alfonso, Ernesto, and Mario. A story that finds its roots in the hoteliers of the old world – an industry connected to the Iaccarino family for four generations. From there, Livia and Alfonso would spend their early years traveling the world – studying other lands and cultures, exploring the connections between terroir, agriculture, winemaking, and cuisine, and moulding these pastoral, time-honoured concepts into a purity of cooking. Later, their son, world-renowned and Michelin-starred Chef Ernesto Iaccarino, would come to lead Don Alfonso’s prolific kitchen – designing menus of meticulous beauty, artful creativity, and auspicious attention to the guiding light tradition can provide us. In another story to come, through an intimate chat with Chef Ernesto, we are given the chance to the explore these conversations more deeply – his perspective, his philosophy, and the legacy he is building upon. As well as the eminent Mario Iaccarino, also Livia and Alfonso’s son, who would come to head the estate’s legendary hospitality and front-of-house as its maître d’ – bringing Don Alfonso’s ethos, refinement, and warmth to every guest interaction, both in Italy and abroad. Though, in the end, there is an undercurrent of simple grace that has led this restaurant to its two Michelin stars. The food – nourished by the land. The land – nourished by the people. And the people – nourished by the food. This is not only where you come to eat; it is where you come to find life.
On a warm evening, walking down the stone path to the restaurant, I met with Amy and Thomas Pigeon – our Editor-in-Chief and European Editor – under a rustling canopy of emerald trees. I recall the cinema of the fragrant coastal air – was I really here? Then, when entering the restaurant – bright and palatial creams and whites, clear acrylic and glass, and mirrored pieces that reflect and refract the warm light of the space; as if stepping into a cloud-like, alabaster home. Ornate moulding, touches of sculpture, and glossy herringbone floors ground the space in texture and tangibility – without it, it might actually be a dream. And painted in touches of cranberry – its lampshades, fringed sconces, twill chairs, and subtle florals – feminine, whimsical, and charming.
There is a story here that reaches deeper than elegance alone; a story that reaches deeper than technique, service, and plating…It is a story that has crafted itself through the arms of a family, the hands of its artists, and the land of their home – a sonnet, and a distillation, of time.
— DYLAN DIAS, EDITOR – DESIGN, FOOD & CULTURE
To start, we were welcomed with a glass of spring effervescence from Don Alfonso’s fantastic sommelier – Maurizio. And I mean this in the most sincere way – he was as bright and joyous as the morning sunlight. Seconds into our seating, we were already laughing, as he poured us an elegant Bruno Paillard Blanc de Blancs Grand Cru. A golden citrus and floral grapefruit champagne veiled in notes of toasted butter – warm to the heart with a lasting mousse. Enjoyed alongside a procession of freshly baked breads, crisp crackers and wafers, the chartreuse silk of great olive oil, and delicate, orbed canapés bursting with flavour.
Then, our first course, presented in perfect movement – a blushing, smoked amberjack pillowed in a broad bean purè scented in lemon peel powder, with fennel seeds, fried garlic mayonnaise, and glossy striations of minted oil. Fresh, green, and cooling, though hinted by bolder, earthy seasoning. Loved alongside our Bellaria Roccabascerana Irpinia Falanghina – a verdant, dry, and spirited white that begins with green apple, citrus, and jasmine and leans gently into the minerality of the sea. Summer by the water.
Stepping out of the Tyrrhenian, our dish to follow was one of the most memorable of the evening. Seasonal, organic vegetables marinated, prepared, and plated like small treasures – pulled from Le Peracciole, the farmland Don Alfonso itself has cultivated – a window into the lush agricultural wealth of Campania. Like a walk through fertile gardens – pastry ravioli filled with poplar mushrooms from the mountains of Sila, the warmth of slowly-cooked, grilled fennel, and the vivid amaranth of gently-pickled onions on a sage quilt of pea purè. Finished with crisped artichoke and broccoli leaves, the sharp coldness of horseradish ice cream, and the peppered amber of a sweet and sour turmeric sauce. It’s these touches of contrast, like glimpses into other places, that bring subtle mosaics to life in the composed, artful hands of Chef Ernesto – rooted both in land and in story.
Our next course – a rich, glistening pasta of coastal waters. Spaghetti, silken and scented with garlic, oil, and chili, plated with gently cooked, soused mackerel and a dusting of buttery, golden breadcrumbs perfumed with pine nuts, caramelized onion, and parsley. Then, as if to remind you of the sea, the pasta is coddled in a velvety, bronzed albacore emulsion that warms the heart, the soul, and the belly. And believe me – I have plenty of belly to warm. A resonant dish.
As we sat there together – the service within the space an ebb and flow of natural, symphonic movement – it was almost too easy to lose sight of where we were. Not because it was anything less than spectacular, but because it felt familiar at the same time. The quiet, remarkable thing of being welcomed with kindness, warmth, and laughter to a place that has existed long before you. Yes – it’s immaculate food. But in truth, it’s soul. Don Alfonso is an institution, but perhaps more importantly, it’s a home and a place of belonging.
In this moment, Maurizio – clad in a black leather apron that could only work on him – shared with us a beautiful, frosted, pale honey glass of Bosco Bottazzo Greco di Tufo from D’Antiche Terre. Local to Campania, crisp pear and citrus on the nose settle into a toasted almond and mineral finish – a sublime partner to the fresh, delicate pasta of our next course. A strascinati – though not in the modern sense of the word; an older, original name for what we would recognize as more of a cannelloni. Finely made, like fabric, and filled with softened veal and ricotta, draped in the sweet, crimson cast of a San Marzano sauce, and dressed in basil and mozzarella. Purity and finesse hidden beneath the sincerity of beautiful heirloom cooking – somehow, of earth; somehow, of heaven.
To follow – the lush and supple simplicity of red snapper from the sea beside us. Plated in blocks of colour and shape – fern-like green in a breadcrust of Mediterranean herbs to cloak our cleanly-cut fish; veiling it in butter as it cooked. A satin, sienna cast of puttanesca and its sharp, saline brightness in pooled circles. And a shining, sepia stock cooked from the snapper itself. Like that of a Mondrian – together, but distinct, and blissful to eat.
In a way, it was poetry. And after that meal… I felt whole, again. I realize now, that was the whole point.
— DYLAN DIAS, EDITOR – DESIGN, FOOD & CULTURE
With thanks to the colourful Maurizio, our main dishes this evening were paired with a 2018 Villa Raiano Taurasi. A velvet-like, ruby red – plush, aromatic, and elegant with dark cherries, spiced tobacco, and bitter chocolate – a candlelit kiss on a late, summer evening. More than a peck but less than an invite; a perfect goodbye.
That said, to round out our core, savoury experience – the deep, satiating ochre of pork belly – patiently cooked at a low temperature. To the plate’s left, puffed pig skin, like salt crystals, create texture around the softened, yielding pork. To its right, a purè of carrot masquerades itself as what it once was. And at its centre, a pavé of potatoes nestles between them. A Pollock of gleaming sauce – sweet, sour, and sticky – swirl the dish, playfully. And I am, somehow, witness to its decadence. Rich, seductive, and comforting. Ok, I’ll go home with you, but not before dolce.
To end – as if there were any alternative to the beauty of southern Italy and its endless groves – Don Alfonso’s concert of lemon. A study, or perhaps aria, of texture, colour, form, and flavour passed through the citrus heart of the Sorrentine Peninsula. Lemon cream in two consistencies, lemon bignè, lemon caramel, lemon chips, and a brittle nest of glassy lemon sugar. Following this, a collection of petit fours – sweet, decorative jewels, including chocolate-dipped, candied lemon rinds, as a gorgeous closing to a gorgeous dinner that, even as I write this, is difficult to entirely express.
Before dinner at Don Alfonso, I was one person. After – I was another. There is a story here that reaches deeper than elegance alone; a story that reaches deeper than technique, service, and plating (though, in truth, it is all interconnected). It is a story that has crafted itself through the arms of a family, the hands of its artists, and the land of their home – a sonnet, and a distillation, of time. Like pearls of the Tyrrhenian, Don Alfonso’s menu reflects pristine beauty, carefully layered, in traditions of the past, ingenuity of the present, and hope for the future. Together, it shines. In a way, it was poetry. And after that meal – meeting Chef Ernesto, his team, and seeing his kitchen, thanking Mario and Maurizio for their kind hospitality, laughter, and sweetness, and walking back up that stone path to the gardens outside my room – I felt whole, again. I realize now, that was the whole point.
Thank you for reminding me. – VV
Photography provided by Don Alfonso 1890, Amalfi Coast Photographers, Amy Pigeon & Dylan Dias
