DA ADOLFO

Positano

Everything tastes better with the sand between your toes, and the Mediterranean sun glittering off a deep cyanic sea. But at Da Adolfo, a short boat ride from Positano, the food matches the view. A few tables, on a shaded terrace, at the back of a small beach. You’ll find locals and tourists, English folk with pink faces and slightly perplexed oligarchs, fresh off their ghastly gin palaces, demanding a kilo of caviar.

They won’t get it. Of course they won’t. Sergio is the owner and boss (his brother runs the kitchen) and is built like a gladiator. He’s charming, but you wouldn’t want to be on his wrong side. Anyway, drink crisp local white, served in pretty jugs with chunks of peach. And eat mozzarella baked on lemon leaves, and tiny grilled anchovies, and minute deep-fried prawns. And a zuppe de cozze (soup of mussels) with tomatoes and a nudge of chilli. Whole fish are simply baked, pasta is magnificent. Lunch melts into the long afternoon, and a cooling dip in the sea is perfect for pudding, followed by a kip on the sun-warmed rocks. Beware, though, the Nocello walnut liqueur packs a punch. More than once I’ve missed the last boat home. And then cadged a lift from Sergio. It’s the sort of place that you dream about in the dull depths of English winter, the edible essence of the Amalfi Coast.