The Italian peninsula is neither very long (736 miles) nor very wide (150 miles), not counting Sicily, so that the distance from one town to another may be less than five miles, yet they all have their unique charms, which differ radically from the foggy north to  the sun-kissed south.
         As a seaside province on Italy’s heel, Puglia has the Adriatic on one side and the Tyrrhenian on the other, accounting for 500 miles of coastline corrugated with harbors and inlets. Forty minutes south of the large city of Bari is the small city of Polignano Mare and fifty minutes away is Monopoli, both of which can be visited in a day. From there other days can be languidly spent visiting Ostuni, Brindisi, Lecce and Gravina.  
         Polignano a Mare has a shadowy history, with some scholars claiming the Greeks settled it as Neapolis, while others say Julius Caesar founded it as a hub along the Via Traiana. Its situation on the Adriatic was a double-edged sword, on the one hand making it readily accessible for trade, on the other easy to invade. Thus, its occupiers have included the Byzantine Empire, the Normans, the Angioinians and the Aragonese, who pretty much stabilized the region.
    On the way into town, stop to visit the Museum of Contemporary Art Pino Pascali  (below) on the Parco du Santo Stefano, a squat building with a Roman archway housing a remarkable array of the native artist’s work (along with a few others’) in every type of medium, from painting to sculpture to fabric to video. Opened in 2012, it pays homage to an artist who died in Rome at 33, yet who achieved international renown within the avant-garde community.
        Polignano is such a pleasure to stroll through, for there really isn’t a lot of area to cover. Despite that, indeed, because of it, the town swells with tourists in summer, especially for the “Red Bull Cliff Diving Polignano” event that draws 50,000 people annually to watch professional divers plunge 65 feet into clear blue waters edged with rocky cliffs. The seashore is also pockmarked with grottoes in which the sea ebbs and flows, one of which, Grotta Palazzese, now holds a fine dining restaurant.
            If you stroll along the Lungomare (waterfront), with its narrow streets weaving in and out of the Old Town,where people live in perched apartments and new boutiques and trattorias have popped up, you will eventually come to the statue of local boy Domenico Modugno, who became an international star with his song “Volare.”
            The beaches below may be rocky or white sand, small and secluded, the most famous of which, the secluded Lido Cala Paura (above),  can be viewed from the old bridge above.
            There are, of course, numerous churches to drop into, the finest of which is devoted to Santa Maria Assunta in Piazza Dell’Orologio, consecrated in 1295 with a simple bell tower and housing Stefano da Putignano’s  beloved Nativity sculpture (1530).
        Given its history and various occupiers, Polignano’s architectural diversity can be seen in the palazzos, the terraced Governor’s palace, and, on the expansive Piazza Vittorio Emanuele II, the Palazzo dell’Orologio, seat of the town hall until 1837.
        Sitting along the main street, just shy of the Lama Monachile bridge (left), are several good spots to eat and drink. By all means you must have a cup of Polignano’s caffe speziale, made with espresso laced with amaretto liqueur. A good spot to try it is the oddly named FCAZZ Birra, with outdoor tables set under white umbrellas.
        Just across the street is one of the region’s finest seafood restaurants, Casa Mia, on the Piazza Garibaldi (below). A smart looking place with outdoor tables, it has a fine wine list and ebullient owners in Vito and Michele Dragone.  There you might want to start off with a puffy-crusted pizza, but the antipasti, including crudi of mackerel (below) and shellfish, are difficult to ignore.
        The menu changes with the tide, and whatever comes in fresh that morning will be on it: red shrimp with fried artichokes; tuna with pesto; spaghetti with seppie and a puree of yellow squash; tortelletti with scampi and basil. The fritto misto of seafood is impeccably cooked. The best way to appreciate Casa Mia is with a tasting of either three or six dishes, priced according to the day’s market.
        If you end the afternoon early, you can also visit nearby Monopoli, a town blessed in legend by the visitation of the Madonna in 1117, arriving on a raft, as commemorated at the Cathedral di Maria Santissima della Madia (below). This is a medieval town, settled in the sixth century (although it is said pirates built a small church, San Salvatore,  there in 313 in thanks for surviving a shipwreck), dominated by a fortress of Charles V, the Spanish king who kept the peace that led to Monopoli’s being free of further invasion.
        Sunsets over the Adriatic offer dramatic vistas that indicate just how close the town is to the Near East. Then it’s time to walk through the small streets, all well-lighted to show off the whitewashed cleanliness of the city’s homes, as the people of Monopoli close their shutters and light their lamps.

            Back when I was compiling my annual “The Best New Restaurants of the Year” for Esquire, a few times over thirty-five years, as soon as I entered a place I sensed that it was going to be quite out of the ordinary and a prime contender for the list. Pulling open the iron doors of  Christophe Bellanca’s new restaurant across from the Museum of Natural History, I had a very keen sense that would be the case, and throughout the next few hours there, I never wavered from that first impression.
        On looks alone, Parisian interior designer Caroline Egasse’s interiors show a sophisticated restraint as well-crafted as a Chanel jacket and skirt ensemble, even evoking the pale colors of taupe, black and white that epitomize a style that never goes out of fashion. Even though I bewail restaurants without tablecloths, the soft, padded, treated leather used in Essential is really quite beautiful and the lighting allows you to see everyone, easily read the menu and appreciate the color and presentation of the food set on Bernardaud china.
        In addition, when this space was called Dovetail its hard wooden walls caused a sheer cacophony; now, with soft, subtly textured surfaces throughout, this is as civilized a dining room as I’ve been to in quite some time, reminding me of similar rooms at modern restaurants in Paris. There are touches of leather, brass, porcelain tiles and Élitis wallpapers, with the counterpoint of a bold blue vinyl and silk mural. A 16-seat outdoor patio will also be available for neighborhood folks to enjoy with friends and family as the seasons permit.
        The attractive, largely female staff, from the host station to the bar and split dining rooms, are all well dressed in black (though t-shirts on the busboys seems out of character). General Manager Adrien Falcon sets a tone of casual hospitality, and beverage director Andrea Morris is every bit as helpful in assisting you to choose the right wine.
        The restaurant’s guiding motto is “To be creative is simple but to understand what is simple can take a lifetime,” which is in line with the credo of the late master chef Joël Robuchon, at whose New York restaurant L’Atelier Bellanca had been chef de cuisine, and you can see the lineage of those menus in his own cooking. (He had also been chef at L’Orangerie in Los Angeles and Le Cirque in New York.) 
        Among New York French restaurants, Bellanca’s cooking is closest to Eric Ripert’s at Le Bernardin, though the latter is entirely focused on seafood, where very little is done to the main ingredients but to put them all in balance. Bellanca’s is less fussy than Daniel Boulud’s, less lavish than Gabriel Kreuther’s and far more innovative than the tradition-bound La Grenouille. And it is wholly his own.
        The à la carte menu has four sections, and, since prices are remarkably moderate, one is tempted to choose from all four, including dessert. (There is also a bar menu with nothing over $18, including a cheeseburger and fries that anywhere else would run you $25 and up.) You will begin with a complimentary amuse bouche, like warm mushroom cappuccino with sweet potato and a reduction of Madeira wine.
        We chose smooth, creamy foie gras with a lovely apple/cranberry confit and Pineau des Charentes fortified wine ($29), which made a nice balance with the hiramasa sashimi with avocado, black radish and tangy fresh yuzu ($18). A beautiful rendition of beetroot that had been lightly smoked (which somewhat compromised its natural earthy flavor) came with barberry, crispy amaranth and a nice touch of Upper West Side tradition—borscht ($18).
        Some of the best, sweetest sea scallops of the winter came with the fine texture of Savoy cabbage and a black truffle emulsion one can never tire of in French cuisine ($28), while eggplant was glazed and served with smoked yogurt and a vegetable curry ($18), which reflects tastes Bellanca picked up when he cooked at Robuchon’s restaurants in Hong Kong and Macao.
        Among the main courses a perfectly cooked wild black bass revealed just how wonderful this species is, braised and sided with shiitake chutney, razor clams and a turmeric emulsion ($38). I had my first venison of the new year here and it was superb, nicely gamey, simply grilled and served with coco bean and the sea plant salicorne, with a punch of grain mustard ($46). Duck also seemed a capital idea for a January evening, and it came spiced, with agave turnips and satsuma mandarine that had just the right sweet-and-sour elements to make this a modern version of canard à l’orange ($46). Iberico pork had a great deal of flavor on its own, succulent and sweet, served with first-rate presa de bellota ham, a mango aigre-doux and a little minty Thai basil, with extremely creamy jalapeño-laced pureed potatoes ($34).
        Bellanca employs no separate pastry chef, but the desserts are as special as the rest of his menu, beginning with a warm Manjari chocolate tart with vanilla ice cream ($15) and a crisp-to-the-touch vacherin glacé with clementine marmalade, refreshing citrus salad, and an orange blossom-kaffir lime sorbet ($15). Caramelized pineapple is set beneath a warm bomba rice pudding and accompanied with Armagnac-splashed raisin ice cream ($15).  
        Hot soufflés are not easy to find in New York these days, so Bellanca’s perfectly puffy version with orange rum and green cardamom ice cream makes it seem all new again ($15). For something lighter there is an intense raspberry sorbet with Meyer lemon and elderflower jus ($9).
        Clearly, this is not classic French cuisine, though its underpinnings are based on very carefully calibrated formulas learned over decades in French kitchens now influenced by other culture’s cooking.
            The wine list is admirably wide-ranging, with the French selections, as you’d expect, the most abundant, but while there are some fine choices under $100, there is a bewildering number at $150 and way, way up, which is, perhaps, the reason I didn’t see many wine bottles on the surrounding dining room tables.
        Putting the vague word “Essential” before Bellanca’s name doesn’t begin to tell you what to expect, like saying “The Essential Sinatra.” When dining at this level, you realize that the alteration of one ingredient, or even the temperature by a few degrees, would not provide the same unique result Bellanca’s food delivers in course after course.  And to do so at prices considerably below his competitors’ is an added pleasure when you can bask in such a beautiful and well-modulated atmosphere where service exceeds expectations without ever intruding.

Open for dinner Tues.-Sat.