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AMALFI HOTEL SANTA CATERINA
Ask and ye shall receive. This perhaps should be the motto of Italy’s best hotels. It does not matter that what you might want is not explicitly on offer. What matters is that – often at considerable time and effort – those who are looking after you will ensure that your desires are fulfilled. This is the sort of service we all want. It is service of the most civilized sort, and it is what I found at the Santa Caterina in abundance. Clearly, the General Manager, Armando di Palma, is doing a very good job indeed. For four generations the Santa Caterina has been run by the Gambardella family. I learnt that Crescendo Gambardella used to have his shoes made in London, by the magnificent George Cleverley. Clearly, he was a man of impeccable taste, a quality which his descendants have inherited. Handmade tiles – which are a speciality of the Amalfi area – are much in evidence, as are well-chosen pieces of antique furniture and even a marble statue of St Joseph. Another admirable feature of the hotel is the abundance of comfortable seating in the extensive public areas, both within and without the building. For those of us who like to rest of an afternoon, so many plump sofas and wicker armchairs constitute a real blessing. Eating at the Santa Caterina is done in a dining room which takes full advantage of the hotel’s privileged position. A wall of windows (with charming Gothic fenestration) allows guests to gaze out to sea or down at the coast. The floor of costly blue marble picks up the tones of sea and sky as the waiters in white jackets and black bowties glide this way and that on its glistening surface. White tablecloths, Spiegelau glasses and twinkling candles complete this attractive setting. I counted about 550 offerings on the wine list. In price, they range from 19 euros for various local whites and reds to 3,900 euros for 2001 Pétrus. Many of the prices are friendly – for example, for these super-Tuscans: 1998 Luce (120ε), 2003 Solaia (120ε), 2004 Sassicaia (130ε) and 2001 Ornellaia (145ε). There are also some grand ‘foreigners’, like 1998 Latour (495ε) and 1999 Penfolds Grange (330ε). My own drinking included three inexpensive local reds, made from the excellent aglianico grape: Cecubo 2006 was big-boned, with lots of aromas of damp oak (30ε), Fidelis 2004 was packed with blackcurrants (19ε) and Turbano 2000 – the best of the trio – yielded stewed plums in the nose, black fruit in the mouth and a lingering finish of great charm (21ε).
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ADDRESSES
HOTEL SANTA CATERINA
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© Francis Bown 2003
It was the mint sauce which did it. The British – and those who used to run their Empire – are the only people in the world who believe that a mixture of mint, vinegar and sugar should be served with roast lamb. Being British, I am of this opinion myself – as long as the mint is freshly picked and the sauce is properly made. (A strong malt vinegar, undiluted, can be disastrous.) But for everyone else, this is a gastronomic eccentricity too far. That is why I was so impressed, sitting in one of the most elegant dining rooms on the Amalfi Coast, to find that with my delicious lamb chops had come wonderful mint sauce. I had made a special request, and my request had been met. Nor was it the first. I had asked for my bed to be made very soft, and it had been. I had expressed a desire for crèpes Suzette at dinner, and they had arrived. And I had wondered about some fish at breakfast, and a lovely piece of grilled sea bass with porcini mushrooms had been brought to my table on a large white plate. But the mint sauce was the final proof. I now knew, without a scintilla of doubt, that the Santa Caterina was a great hotel. 
This Belle Époque white palace was begun in 1904, although since then it has been much extended. Now it offers 54 rooms and 16 suites. Some of the latter are accommodated in cottages in the gardens and, if the pennies permit, you will find that they are supremely luxurious and elegant. (One of them even has its own ‘infinity’ pool, overlooking the Mediterranean.) In fact, the setting of the entire establishment – amidst terraces of bougainvillea and its own groves of lemon and orange, high above the blue sea – is ravishing. And, lest you should think you might be too far away from the lapping waters, a lift transports guests down the cliff face to the swimming pool, the luncheon restaurant and the spa (truly a place for Salus Per Aqua). 
My billet was on the first floor. Room 27 was a ‘Junior Suite Sea View’ and therefore 445-935 euros, bed and breakfast for two, according to season. In its tiny hall were two doors: to the walk-in wardrobe (wherein was a safe) and to the bed-sitting room. The latter was air-conditioned and of oblong shape, with the sofa and armchairs at one end, the bed in the middle and the French window at the other end. Through this last was my private terrace, with a table and chairs, overlooking the Amalfi coastline. Lighting was from four table lamps and two wall lights. Pieces of stout mahogany furniture imparted a sense of traditional well-being. White and brown tiles covered the walls of the bathroom. Here I found one wash basin, a separate shower, bathrobes by Frette and a corner bath with a jaccuzzi arrangement. All-in-all, this was comfortable accommodation. 
The best table is number seven – and there I sat to enjoy the refined cuisine of Chef Domenico Cuomo. Another Domenico, the Assistant Restaurant Manager, looked after me very well indeed, and Maitre d’ Pino Francese was a model of courtesy, friendliness and efficiency. With the pianist’s fingers drawing out the melody of ‘Moon River’ or rattling off – at my request – ‘As Time Goes By’, the atmosphere at dinner was exactly right for tucking in. So that is what I did. Allow me to share with you the highlights of my meals. (Allow 85-110 euros for four courses, if you are not on the half-board arrangement.) Warm, tender lobster came with a lovely contrast of texture from raw vegetables; a Caprese salad, with local buffalo mozzarella and baked aubergines, was pretty and delicate; ravioli with courgettes and ricotta cheese was brilliantly combined with a lemon cream sauce; lamb chops – I tried them twice: once with a red wine sauce and once with the famous mint – were really full of flavour; and the crèpes Suzette (not on the menu, but prepared by the table with great aplomb by Mr Francese) were simply gorgeous.
My morning visits here were nearly as good as my evening ones. Now the terrace could be used, so that my breakfasts were accompanied by the sound of the overhead shade, flapping in the breeze. Apart from the grilled sea bass, I consumed on these leisurely occasions mushrooms on toast, slices of fruit cake and dishes of fresh pineapple and melon, all of high quality. As is now my custom, I had brought to me, with the silver pots of coffee, an ice bucket – so that I could add ice cubes to my cup. (Yes, I know it sounds odd, but you should try it.) 
