The Riviera paints a certain picture in the mind of a traveler, one of pastel pink and electric turquoise, of a fat sun shimmering off of the hood of a million-dollar convertible winding over a jagged, winding cliff. This may well describe your Montecarlos, your Nices, or, at one point in history, your Sanremos. Yet this doesn’t begin to scratch the surface of “Bordighera, a town caught somewhere between the French Riviera, the Italian Alps, and 19th-century England, resulting in a bizarre gastronomic identity little-known outside of the region.” Here, we will merely scratch the surface of the culinary history of Bordighera and her surroundings, with a reminder that the only true way for one to truly experience a place is to explore on one’s own. Nicknamed the “Queen of the Palm Trees” by Stéphen Liégard, the French poet who first coined the regional nickname ” Cote d’Azur”, it is the flora of Bordighera that stands out at first. Though long disfavored for its vulnerability to pirates, the city’s location between the Maritime Alps and the Ligurian Sea combines the region’s omnipresent breeze and sun with uniquely high temperatures, leading British artists and naturalists to settle here in the 19th century, leaving behind a strange mixture of British Arts & Crafts architecture, Romantic gardens, and wide, verdant boulevards that scream “British seaside resort!” as much as “Ligurian village!” Yet where Bournemouth and Blackpool lacked, Bordighera excelled, drawing on its unparalleled weather and culinary heritage and proving to be a favorite for countless travelers who left their mark here during the Grand Tour, from Claude Monet to Charles Garnier. Beyond the French and British visitors, and the Moorish pirates haunting its waters, Bordighera has its long, antagonistic relationship with its neighbors to thank for its diverse culinary heritage, with influences from the nearby medieval villages of Dolceacqua, Apricale, and Alassio contributing recipes subsequently refined by the bordighotti and their visitors. As part of the “Riviera dei Fiori”, the produce here is exceptional, with its basil and olive oil particularly without rival. Interestingly, despite its pristine waters, the aforementioned presence of pirates made fishing even more dangerous than it already was and is, so while the French today may come to Bordighera for its fresh seafood today, the true specialties of Bordighera tend to be rustic, gut-busting dishes sourced from the neighboring hills. Of course, this is not to say that Bordighera remains fixed in the past: for time-travel back to the medieval age, you’re better off visiting one of the many hilltowns hovering over the sea, a short bus ride away. Bordighera itself, instead, maintains a modest glitzy streak for those looking to keep it classy without having to navigate the international crowds that hound neighboring Montecarlo and Sanremo. It affords customers modern, world-class options at local prices, particularly in the self-contained hamlet of Bordighera Alta. Rather than focusing on particular restaurants, however, let’s start with what to look for. Any conversation about the cuisine of Liguria must begin with olives: if Tuscany’s olive oil is more famous, the dramatic coastal topography in this area imparts a more exceptional fruitiness to the Taggiasca olives of the Riviera del Ponente, the sunny stretch of land from Savona to Bordighera. Here, limited production batches result in more attention and better traceability, resulting in an olive oil that may cost more than those of the large-scale equivalent in other regions, but for good reason. To the same point, though the pesto genovese is more renowned, the smaller farms and fresher air produce basil that seems almost radioactive in its coloring; combined with the fruitier olive oil, the local pesto is, for my money, a superior product. That influence of the Moorish pirates is felt in the farinata di ceci, a thin, crispy cake made of chickpea flour found up and down the coast. The trombetta, a long, slender squash found in the region, is also found in a type of pie called the torta di verdura, made with rice and eggs; yet another is a variation of the French pissaladière called the sardenara, a cousin of the pizza, made from focaccia topped with capers, olives, tomato, and sardines. Interestingly, here in Bordighera one can also find a menestra de ceci, a chickpea soup with mushrooms. Borage, or starflower, is common in the region, and is utilized in the ravioli c’u pesigu, a pasta stuffed with the leaves of the plant, imparting an herbal, cucumber-like flavor. In Liguria overall, one can find the pansotto, a sort of loose, “maltagliato” raviolo, though it is not specific to this particular region.
Brandacujun is a regional version of stockfish where the salted cod is “brandished” (shaken vigorously) in its pot with potatoes and olives until everything is integrated. One can find local octopus stewed with olives, and seasonally even whitebait in tomato sauce (“pignurin”) or fried (“frittelle di gianchetti”).
Finally, Bordighera is known for its desserts, specifically the baci di Bordighera, a pastry somewhere between the baci of Piemonte and those of the nearby Alassio, with two small cookies of egg white, hazelnut, honey, and cocoa separated by a chocolate ganache filling. One look is a reminder of the town’s proximity to France, as these sweets could be confused for a richer, chocolatey cousin of the macaron. There is also the bordighotti al rhum, a chocolate truffle filled with rum similar to the cuneesi of Piemonte; in the region there is the michetta of Dolceacqua, a simple pastry shaped like a vagina to celebrate a woman who murdered a king in the 14th century, and the panzarole of Apricale, which is fried dough dipped in zabaglione.
All told,
”Bordighera and her neighbors provide a varied, colorful bounty of under-appreciated cuisine”
inspired by a distinct, global history and the geographical excellence of the Italian Riviera at a significantly discounted price tag. And that’s before delving into the wines, or, my word, the restaurants! Yes, for now, the best way to approach this town, I think, is with an open mind: hop on a bike, ride down the coast, and once you’ve had your fill of history, go down to the beach, float a while in the easy, clear waters, and worry about dinner later.[/ vc_column_text] CONTRIBUTalignal title_