L'Escale Joseph

Right on the port, by the capitainerie. You come for the pasta, trenette al pesto, spaghetti alle vongole, house ravioli with brousse and basil. Giuseppe runs the kitchen, and he's Calabrese; he doesn't cut corners on ingredients. Burrata from Puglia arrives twice a week, olive oil from his brother's farm. At noon the place fills with yacht crew in whites, more maritime uniforms than a naval academy. And the noise, the speed of it, the sense that everyone here has somewhere else to be in twenty minutes.