Susan Nelson

The second part of Susan’s story about Masseria Provenzani. Mamma Giulia, the chef imperial at the masseria, is never far from the kitchen. She sure knows how to fix delicious and authentic Puglian dishes without recipes. I especially admired how …

Susan takes us on a journey in an Italian farmer and tells us how it helped relax and find peace.   Are you planning a trip to Italy but want to spend some time away from the maddening crowds? Did …

One of my Italian passions is the study of the ancient Romans. I especially love the artwork, like the excavated wall frescoes in Pompeii and Ostia, sculptures from the Roman forum, and mosaics, which were used as decor in public …

Susan’s trip to Ventotene goes on and she helps us learn more about local traditions and foods. The next day for lunch, we were greeted with big smiles by Pina (center) and her family at their restaurant, Un Mare di …

“Tonight the sun has died like an Emperor…great scarlet arcs of silk…saffron…green…crimson…and the blaze of Venus to remind one of the absolute and the infinite…and along the lower rim of beauty lay the hard harsh line of the hills.”  John …

Allied bombs and rough seas have reduced the once mighty turn of the century giant into an armless ruin. Il Gigante continues to shoulder the weight of the terrace for the one time famous Villa Pastine. Arriving in Monterosso after …

The second part of the series about a visit in a working farm. Let’s meet the Orsini family thanks to Susan Nelson. Paola Orsini is a woman who orchestrates her booming olive oil business with finesse. She is the third …

Susan takes us to Naples, where she explores a special place related to Santa Chiara. The old looming Church of Santa Chiara in the heart of Naples is well worth a break in your day. Built between 1313 and 1340, …

When I had my first visit to Rome, I bought a little book from a vendor called “Rome Past & Present.” It has photos of each ruin in the Roman Forum as it looks today, but instantly transforms into its …

I felt like I had just stepped into the Hobbit’s Shire when I arrived in the small whitewashed village of Alberobello. Little people scampering in and out of the tiny cone-roofed houses with hairy feet didn’t appear, however. Instead, the …