Cucina Povera - our foodie tour of Italy's Calabria
Here at Somerset Foodie we source and supply ingredients from all over the world, and with every fragrant Calabrian jar we've prised open and enjoyed, we have dreamt of going there to experience these wonders first-hand. So, in June 2025 Alice and I explored Calabria, Italy on our own week-long budget foodie tour. Calabria is the pointy toe of Italy's boot, famous for crumbling limestone hilltop villages and tantalisingly cheap 'One Euro' houses for sale. A region with expansive white beaches where the Med meets the Ionian Sea, rich in Greek cultural influences and cherished for 'cucina povera', which literally translates as 'poor kitchen'. Cucina povera celebrates resourceful, simple and seasonal ingredients, local produce and minimal waste – head to Calabria to find 'pepperoncini' hot and spicy red peppers, rich and sticky 'Nduja salami, fragrant oregano, wine, olive oil and bergamot groves.
Calabria is generally overlooked as a tourist destination by us Brits but the Italians flock there in high season. It is really quiet in the low to mid seasons, so in early June we booked some astonishingly cheap £28 flights from Stansted to Reggio and left drizzly England for the promise of sunshine, incredible ingredients, empty beaches and dramatic mountain scenery. Now that our kids have flown the nest, we are travelling again as a couple and are much more relaxed about winging it on holiday. We had a vague itinerary in mind and booked just the first night of accommodation, after which we asked local Calabrians we met for their top tips on where to go. We booked cheap €50 Airbnbs just 24 hours in advance and explored anticlockwise around the southern tip of the region.
The industrial margins of Reggio are scruffy and chaotic, with an elegant and affluent centre. We didn't linger there and bolted straight out of the melting city in our little hire car with the air-con jacked up to max, along a fast, modern road that sweeps parallel to the railway line to the sleepy, historic hilltop village of Bova. The coast road gives you a great perspective on the landscapes of the region, with craggy limestone volcanic hills overlooking an expansive navy-blue sea, fringed by sparkling white pebbly beaches. The shores of Sicily were clearly visible, and her Mount Etna dominated the horizon all morning. We headed inland for a short distance to find the cooler mountain air, following hairpin bends up steep, narrow roads that whisked us into an Italian time warp. The ancient village of Bova proudly crests a small, jagged edge of the Aspromonte National Park – it's refreshingly unmodernised and listed as one of the most beautiful villages in Italy. We've been to quite a few special places in Italy and slid straight into a tourist trap; but whilst Bova can make a solid claim for being on the list, in early June we were pretty much the only tourists in the village.
(Pictured: the approach to Bova, Calabria and the blackboard menù del giorno)
We arrived on a warm Sunday evening – groups of locals were hanging out in the sunshine, their kids playing football in the square and a group of men drinking in a slightly run-down little bar staffed by a rotund old man, wearing an apron and smoking a cigarette. This looked like the perfect place to start our foodie adventure with a refreshing cold drink. He softly engaged us in Calabrian Greek, a local dialect only spoken in Calabria and parts of Apulia, and after a minute of confusion, we were ushered outside to a table with a paper cloth, some ancient cutlery and a basket of rustic bread. Our Italian is poor and, struggling to explain that we just wanted a drink, it was quickly obvious that we had been recruited for the full menu, so we just went with the flow. His blackboard simply stated: Antipasto, Primo e Secondo. Various plates of fresh tomatoes, sweet grilled peppers and aubergines, rustic local cheeses and charcuterie were brought to our table. The vegetables were simply seasoned with delicious olive oil and fragrant Calabrian oregano, and we were encouraged to anoint everything with his homemade hot and spicy pepperoncini spooned from an unlabelled jar. These bright red-hot chillies are sun-dried which intensifies the fruity sweetness – they are ubiquitous in Calabrian cucina povera.
Local red wine came in a bottle with no label which, as regularly as plates of food appeared, continually topped up our glasses. The pasta course arrived with a flourish on plastic plates while he pummelled a fistful of raw pasta dough in the other hand to demonstrate that he'd just finished making it. Alice and I have learnt over years of exploring eateries all over the world, that the very best meals are often to be found served on plastic plates, with plastic chairs and paper tablecloths. This was the freshest pasta made in long, quite thick twists with a beautifully soft texture. The tomato sauce spiked with fiery 'Nduja paste. Simple 'tomatoey pasta' is a dish that we've all cooked dozens of times when hungry for a quick carb load or feeling poor, but when we shoved our forks in to try this… it was truly heavenly!
(Pictured: Our amazing view of Mount Etna errupting in June 2025)
The panoramic views from the top of Bova were breathtaking and while admiring her profile we were treated to the remarkable sight of a small volcanic eruption from Mount Etna. We naively assumed this must be a regular volcanic occurrence until we read about it on the BBC news app later in the day. Our travels around the toe continued northeast, up the Ionian coast road, which is lined with small towns, concrete apartment blocks and its fair share of industry. From time to time, in the melting heat, we peeled off the main road to park in a shady spot, seeking out one of the myriad footpaths that meander down to the beach for a reviving dip in the sea. Between the towns there are still some sections of unexploited rural countryside where we found the beaches to be expansive and totally empty; quite by chance when snorkelling, we fleetingly enjoyed the company of a small pod of dolphins as they bobbed past.
Chatting to locals, we were encouraged to head to a small village called Santa Caterina dello Ionio, which is a short drive inland from the coast road through olive groves and swathes of native wild flora. Purple valerian, yellow verbascum and broom, frothy fennel, eucalyptus, small wild alliums, cactus and agave were in flower everywhere we looked.
(Pictured: cobbled winding streets in Santa Caterina dello Ionio, Calabria)
Santa Caterina dello Ionio is a small, sleepy ancient hilltop village perched on a mountain ridge at nearly 500m overlooking the sea – the views from our little Airbnb terrace were absolutely breathtaking. This historic place has tonnes of character, two bars, just one eatery (a pizzeria), hundreds of cats and not another tourist in sight. Santa Caterina is also home to Pasquale, an old man in his seventies missing several teeth, who spied us in the pizzeria and quickly came over to introduce himself to the newcomers. Pasquale told us that he was born in the village in the 1950s when these hilltop villages were prosperous and busy with agriculture and industry serving the local community. His family were Italian shoemakers who emigrated to Australia when he was a child and established a delicatessen in Sydney where he spent 15 years speaking English (which he was apparently keen to practise on us). Pasquale explained the social and economic challenges faced in the region, describing how generations of locals have left the village and moved to the coast seeking work and prosperity. Pasquale also informed us there would be a local food market in the square the following morning and, if we were up early enough, he would like to act as our guide and translator. What a fabulous offer… yes please!
The sun rises over the horizon on the Ionian side of Calabria, so we were up at dawn with a strong coffee to watch the sun drench the coastline. True to his word, Pasquale met us early in the square, waving an arm and beckoning us towards him. It was 7:30am and we were ushered straight towards the village bar for another swift espresso - one sugar sachet for our host's coffee cup, and another straight into his toothless mouth. Market day brought many local makers with a stunning array of produce.
(Pictured: Morning market cheese seller in Santa Catarina dello Ionio)
We were introduced to a farmer who milks sheep and goats, selling his cheeses in all shapes and sizes. We bought a large, round baked ricotta, which had breakfast written all over it, along with a small circular sheep's cheese that Pasquale just referred to as Pecorino. Next on our foodie tour was the charcuterie van, where we were encouraged to buy a small torpedo-shaped 'Nduja salami that the maker referred to as 'Soppressata' – delicious and spicy and firm enough to cut into traditional slices.
We admired huge boxes of freshly picked, locally grown fruit and vegetables – all seasonal produce of course – and the most amazing array of colourful sun-ripened tomatoes, the likes of which we can only dream about in England. We grabbed a large bag along with some intriguing small yellow fruits called loquats; these are the love child of an apricot and a plum and turned out to pair brilliantly with our prized freshly baked ricotta for breakfast. Santa Catarina's market was bustling with locals doing their weekly shop. Pasquale made a great tour guide and introduced us to everyone we met with his toothless grin. It was an unforgettable morning.
(Pictured: Watching the sun rise before the market and baked ricotta for breakfast in the morning sunshine with views looking west over the Ionian sea)
We were really enjoying the laid-back vibe of the east coast. It seemed to us that the further north we travelled the pace of life slowed and relaxed. We were amazed at how few Italians on the east coast spoke any English, so relied heavily on our phones to translate menus and make conversation. Everyone was super friendly and welcoming without exception. On Pasquale's recommendation we spent the next two nights just a short drive away in the village of Badolato, another beautiful hilltop town overlooking the sea. Badolato is significantly bigger and more touristic than Santa Catarina. It also boasts a typically dramatic, vertiginous profile of ancient limestone buildings that appear to cling to the rock face, sweeping down to the stunning Church of the Immacolata, which looks straight out of the opening sequence of a Bond movie. There was a choice of several appealing restaurants in the village serving traditional dishes such as 'polpette': meatballs made with pork mince, mixed with stale bread and goat's cheese and cooked in a spicy tomato sauce. Goats are farmed everywhere in Calabria and thrive on the steep hilly terrain and abundant wild herbs. We found goat meat on many menus and enjoyed its distinctive strong flavour. Perhaps the most memorable dish we had was a simple cucina povera plate incorporating a slow-cooked neck of goat cooked on the bone with just a few fresh tomatoes, garlic, oregano and local wine.
(Pictured: The view looking down over the Church in Badolato on the West coast in Calabria)
With our foodie adventure passing far too quickly, we reluctantly started our journey westward back towards Reggio on the Mediterranean side. We left the laid-back Greek influences of the east side and traced narrow roads inland to cross over the cooler, higher spine of the region, driving through dense and beautiful deciduous forest roads towards the tourist mecca of Tropea – acclaimed by Stanley Tucci in his Discovering Italy series. Despite falling firmly into the tourist trap, we were keen to experience Tropea's famously sweet onions and the promise of great seafood. Calabria boasts 500 miles of coastline, so fresh seafood is readily available and on every restaurant menu in Tropea, where swordfish fishing has ancient origins, and the fish is a local speciality. We parked up and braved the throngs of people. The seafood dishes we enjoyed here weren't overcomplicated but the menus were markedly more expensive. In true Italian style, the chefs really let the ingredients do the talking – a simple wedge of lemon is all the garnish you can expect, but the shellfish and fish we ate were sublime and straight from the sea.
(Pictured: Feasting on seafood on the east coast of Calabria - Tropea)
The west side of Calabria feels far busier and more expensive than the east coast. This coastline is home to the main arterial road through the region down to Sicily and has attracted second homeowners and commercial investment in recent years. We spent our last day in Reggio city centre and snatched a few hours exploring the Archaeological Museum where the unmissable 'Riace Bronze statues' are permanently on display. If you don't already know about this fascinating story, do a little bit of your own research. We savoured our very last meal – hand-shaped arancini, fried mozzarella sandwiches, salty aubergine parmigiana and sweet chocolate Tartufo di Pizzo. We washed it all down with ice-cold bergamot lemonade and reminisced about a wonderful week, wishing we could stay longer. There was so much more to see, and we will certainly go back.
I really encourage you to head to Calabria out of high season to explore a corner of Italy that still feels remote. Where nobody speaks English and you'll be reaching for your dictionary to translate the menu. Where you can find rooms for €50 and a set menu for €20. Zag off the road, park up and walk to remote, empty wide beaches with quartz pebbles that sparkle in the sunshine. Head slightly inland up steep, winding hairpin mountain roads lined with abundant wildflowers, groves of olives and grazing goats to mountain villages where you'll be the only tourists for miles. Ditch the guidebooks and fixed itineraries, go off the beaten track, engage with the local Italians and trust in their wisdom to unlock the most authentic regional ingredients and hidden gems.
You can read our full travel story over on Scribehound where you will find a wonderful anthology from foodie travel writers all over the World.
