In Italy, family is everything. And in Palermo, every family has a fisherman. These concepts are present on Trattoria Piccolo Napoli’s red, blue and white sign, which sports a caricature of a perplexed sea bass and a promise of home cooking. Open the wooden doors to find a three-generation seafood restaurant a stone’s throw from the city’s old harbor with a fantastic fresh fish display, with part of a swordfish sitting high on the icy altar, below a bowl of lemons.
Our waitress, donned in pink velour, showed us to our table in the dining hall. Once we took our seats, she proceeded to squeeze lemons behind the bar, periodically smiling at us, letting us take it all in. We looked at photos, uncovering the family history as we snacked on garlic bread and caponata, a sweet and sour mélange of fried eggplant, tomato sauce, celery, olives and capers (Piccolo Napoli adds chunks of sardines into the mix).
The story begins in 1951. Orazio Corona, who learned how to cook in the Italian Navy, returned home to Palermo and opened a small tavern with his wife Rosetta. He named it Piccolo Napoli as a homage to a formerly grand restaurant called Grande Napoli that had served the city’s aristocracy before the war. Behind the cash register of the current restaurant, a black-and-white photograph immortalizes the opening day: in it, a crowd of men in bowler caps smoke Toscanos while a band plays. An unpretentious local haunt, Piccolo Napoli served up Rosetta’s home cooking to vendors and dockworkers in the Borgo Vecchio neighborhood.
Orazio’s philosophy, according to his grandniece Ylenia Corona, who now co-manages the restaurant, was simple: “Always be genuine and always eat fresh.” The daily dishes continue to be based on fresh fish brought right off the boat each day from the fishing port of Terrasini. Red langoustine and dried tuna roe, a Sicilian delicacy known as the poor man’s caviar, go into the popular spaghetti scampi e bottarga di tonno. Cuttlefish ink bewitchingly coats the restaurant’s sensuous, salty, and intense pasta al nero di seppia. We tried the restaurant’s namesake pasta dish as well, with shrimp, clams, and mussels, in a buttery mint sauce, a nod to the region’s Arab culinary influences. Nowhere else in Italy is mint used as extensively as in Palermo, due to its historical tie to North Africa. Waiters orate the constantly changing menu, depending on the tides and the seasons. It’s straightforward Sicilian cooking at its best.
In 1984, the Corona family, who lived next door to Piccolo Napoli, expanded the small restaurant into their own living quarters to have more space – the ultimate act of selfless hospitality. In addition to its many local regulars, illustrious guests of the likes of Italian prima ballerinas, Brazilian presidents, Nobel Prize winners and many more have come to love the trattoria over the years. Anthony Bourdain featured the restaurant in his visit to Palermo, snacking on panelle – chickpea fritters – and olives.
However, the patron that Orazio loved the most was Antonello Cuccureddu, a prolific soccer player who played for Juventus in the 1970s. On Mondays, the restaurant prepared a special dish, pasta alla Cuccureddu, consisting of outsized meatballs, one for each goal Juventus had scored that week. The restaurant had a hard time the week Juventus won 6-0.
“Our restaurant remains special in both Palermo and in the world because we have been searching for seventy years to highlight the best foods from our land,” Ylenia told us. “We offer it in simple, traditional cuisine with the same love as always.” When Orazio died back in 1998, customers from as far away as the United States and South America came to the trattoria to pay their respects. The Corona family’s sincere dream had come true, and the restaurant continues to pay respect to Orazio’s vision.
Published on July 15, 2024