THE BEAUTIFUL Italian island of Ischia, off the Neapolitan coast,
became the home of the Oldham-born English composer Sir William Walton and his young Argentinian wife, Susana, in 1949, and, Sir William hav- ing died in 1983, Lady Walton remains there today. Their villa, La Mortella, built into the rock-face, is surrounded by gor- geous gardens created by Lady Walton and now open to the public, with a tea-room and a small museum. Lady Walton also set up the Fondazione William Walton, which, since 1990, has held an annual course, II Cantante-Attore (the Actor-Singer) at La Mortella for promising young British and Italian singers. Selected by auditions the previous winter, the dozen or so lucky ones are housed at the villa during a three-week summer course, during which they prepare a short opera, or scenes, which they per- form in La Mortella's recital room on the course's final night. Preparation and train- ing are in the hands of first-rate teachers, so that this year's performance of Puccini's comic opera, Gianni Schicchi, had been prepared by the conductor James Lockhart and produced by the great soubrette sopra- no of the 1960s, Graziella Sciutti, with an expert music staff headed by Johanna Peters of the Guildhall School.
Not only did I much enjoy Gianni Schic- chi and note several young singers to watch for in the future, but during my few days on Ischia I was able to sample its restaurants. We stayed at a fine old five-star hotel, the Regina Isabella, in the coastal resort near- est to La Mortella, Lacca Atneno, and hav- ing been admirably fed at the villa on our first night, I invited Johanna Peters to help me try the hotel's cooking the following one. The Regina Isabella stands beside the sea, and the windows of its spacious dining- room look out across the swimming pool onto the Mediterranean. It is thus an agreeable space in which to dine, though the rather stuffy, predominantly Italian, middle-aged and elderly clientele did not appear to be having much fun. The dinner menu, three, four or five courses, as you wished, cost 120,000 lire (just over £40), so it was not exactly a bargain, but quality was high, even if the cooking lacked imagina- tion.
Johanna and I both chose the same dish- es for our first two courses, risotto and baked sea bass, but first I decided to try the buffet hors d'oeuvres. This was generously laid out on a succession of serving tables, and clearly appealed to the Italians, judging by the queues that formed. Everything was impeccably fresh and of the highest quality, but none of the salads, meat or fish dishes testified to creative genius in the kitchen: it was grand-hotel hors d'oeuvres, tout simple. The risotto was more interesting, prepared with prawns and courgette flowers, and the rice was first-class, impeccably cooked, but both prawns and flowers lacked flavour and punch. Next came admirably fresh sea bass, generously served and lightly cooked in a buttery sauce, with nice new potatoes and some slightly boring breadcrumbed toma- toes Provencale'. I ended with pleasant `panna cotta' with orange, and Johanna with a slice of rich chocolate cake. We drank a good Pinot grigio, and enjoyed operatic gossip, admired the surroundings, and found the perfectly served dinner gas- tronomically a somewhat underwhelming experience.
More positive was the late supper I ate in Lacco Ameno's popular sea-food restau- rant, 0 Padron d'O Mare. I was with the musical author and television producer Humphrey Burton, a trustee of the Walton Foundation, and the Foundation's archivist, the film producer Maureen Mur- ray, both of whom, having travelled from Rome by train that afternoon, were hungry and weary. 0 Padrone's cheerful Italian atmosphere soon had Humphrey back on form, and the food was highly enjoyable. We ate simply, starting with delicious spaghetti alla Padrone d'O Mare, cooked with masses of seafood, white and crus- tacean, the spaghetti impressively olive- oiled, followed by an agreeable frittura mista of various fishes, squid predominat- ing, which, though tasty, seemed to have 'We think everyone should be sovereign for 15 minutes.' been prepared earlier in the day. With abundant wine, the bill for three came to a remarkable 91,000 lire — not much over £30 — for a meal that gave great pleasure.
We decided to take dessert in the nearby gelateria, where the ices, assisted by deli- cious local grappa, were as good as Italian ice creams invariably are. The next day, Lady Walton led a guided tour of the island by minibus, in which her running commen- tary, laced with wit and local knowledge, caused much admiration. Sir Edward Heath, an old friend of the Waltons, was in our party, and in benign and jovial form. Clearly, age has not affected his appetite and, equally clearly, he enjoyed his lunch, which was taken in the port of Ponte d'Ischia, at Coco d'Ischia, another water- side seafood restaurant. This was the best yet, probably thanks to Lady Walton's pres- ence as much as anything else. We greatly enjoyed hors d'oeuvres of courgette flowers fried in a light batter, marinated fresh anchovies and succulent black olives, fol- lowed by superb spaghetti served with won- derfully fresh mussels and clams, then an excellent frittura mista, notable for the quality of the calamari and baby whiting. It was a meal that made one feel happy to be alive: no wonder it left Sir Edward looking pink and pleased.
Back in London it seemed right and proper to take a meal at Ischia's London gastronomic haven, the long-established Mimmo d'Ischia in Elizabeth Street off Eaton Square. I went there with the Jockey Club press officer and youthful master of foxhounds Julia Cook, whose parents own a villa near Lady Walton's, and who had been in Ischia for Gianni Schicchi. Mimmo was not there to greet us — at home with his family that night — but his nephew Pietro welcomed us with charm and pointed out the glorious old Ischian photographs on the walls squeezed in among the celebrities, with street scenes in which only the horses and carts distinguished them from today.
Minuno's is tightly packed, expensive, popular and smart. On sitting down, you are greeted by a lovely plate of hors d'oeu- vres already laid out (peppers, courgettes, aubergines, olives and fresh anchovies), but despite these we also greatly enjoyed, in Julia's case fresh crab with avocado in per- fect condition, and in mine an expertly made, generously served bowl of strac- ciatelle. Julia continued with excellent swordfish, beautifully grilled, and I ate one of the finest dishes of vitello tonnato I have experienced, the veal meltingly tender and the tonnato sauce just the right blend of mayonnaise, capers and tuna. We could not manage dessert, and with aperitifs, good Montepulciano red at £25, and coffee, the bill of £106, service included, seemed, in the circumstances and surroundings, not unreasonable.
Mimmo d'Ischia: 61 Elizabeth Street, London SW1; tel: 0171 730 5406. Closed Sunday dinner.
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