Upon entering Al Fresco in the Ballarò neighborhood, we are struck by both the kind welcome and the special location – the restaurant is set in a garden enclosed within the walls of Casa San Francesco, a former seventeenth-century convent, lit by strings of lights dangling between plants and saplings. There is an immediate sense of openness, freedom and freshness. This is no coincidence: while “al fresco” in Italian can refer to the chill of being out in the open air, it is also an expression used to mean “life in prison.” The double meaning makes sense in this case – despite its first impression as a regular eatery, perhaps the most special feature of Al Fresco is that working in the kitchen and in the dining room are former inmates who have joined the team following their release from prison.

To properly introduce Palermo, CB’s newest location, we turned to our local experts: correspondent and photographer Francesco Cipriano and walk leader Maria Luisa. In celebration of the launch, we spoke with them about Palermo’s gastronomic scene, the special Sicilian relationship with food, and their favorite places in the city. Francesco is a writer and photographer born in New York to a family of Sicilian immigrants who then moved to Switzerland before finally returning to Sicily – the place, he says, that feels the most like home. Maria Luisa is a native Sicilian and a professional culinary guide. She got her culinary start from her grandmother, who taught her how to knead dough to make bread, how to forage for wild plants and how to appreciate a good glass of wine.

Venture inside the Ballarò market – a lively and historic city market in Palermo’s Albergheria district – and you will find yourself catapulted into a sensory experience: the colors of the fruits and vegetables, the smoke from the grills clouding the alleys, the smell of spices mingling with the smell of survival. And then the voices: they all shout here. Or rather: they “abbannìano.” “Abbanniari” is the ancient custom of Palermo street vendors to sing out their goods to attract customers’ attention. Derived from the times and from a world in which marketing studies and advertising techniques had not yet arrived, in which even noticeable signage was a quantum leap that not all merchants could afford, the abbanniata was the democratic and free tool available to street vendors, because all they needed was their own voice.