Behind the counter at the modest Spiedo d’Oro, owner Vincenzo Monzo and his wife Cinzia have something welcoming to say to every customer who walks in. “The eggplant parmigiana will be ready in 10 minutes.” “The pasta and beans have just come out.” “Salvatore! You alone? No wife? We'll make you a plate of Genovese, and the gattò is on its way.” With a few spartan tables and a glass-lined counter where you can see everything that is available for lunch, Spiedo d’Oro is the definition of a no-frills joint. Like everyone around us, we’ve come here not just for the warm welcome but also for the simple but excellent Neapolitan dishes.

Some people believe that a cup of coffee is the same everywhere. We like to think that they haven’t been to one of the Mexico cafés in Naples, where even a coffee novice can understand he has come face-to-face with a very special brew, one that took years to perfect. When you enter a Caffè Mexico – there are three in Naples – an extraordinary smell envelops you. It is the smell of history, one that often seeps into furniture and timeworn objects. The main source of this smell is coffee (the Passalacqua brand, named after the café’s founder), both from the grinder, operated by a dedicated member of staff, and also the retail counter, where coffee beans are constantly being scooped and weighed and packaged, releasing their aroma throughout the room.

In life, it’s never too late to try changing course. It’s not always possible, it’s not always easy, but when you succeed, what satisfaction. Seventy-year-old Raffaele Cardillo, with his smiling face and white beard, can attest to that. After 20 years spent working as a lawyer, shuttling between courts and meetings with defendants, and puzzling over lawsuits and problems to unravel, he decided to give up his law career and transform his passion – cooking – into a real job. Spending his evenings at the stove was a favorite pastime, the way he relaxed after a long day in court.

Naples’s Quartieri Spagnoli, the "Spanish Quarters,” are a part of the city with a long and tumultuous history. Founded in 1500, the Quartieri Spagnoli were created by Don Pedro De Toledo to accommodate the Spanish soldiers who were residing or passing through Naples. With the arrival of the soldiers, the network of narrow streets became a hotbed for illegal economic activities, from cigarette smuggling to drug dealing to prostitution, earning the district a bad reputation that stuck for centuries – even Neapolitans from other neighborhoods were afraid of entering the Quartieri Spagnoli. In recent decades, however, the atmospheric district has become one of the city’s tourist attractions, recognized as one of the centers of Neapolitan gastronomy as well as a place of craftsmanship, cultural and anthropological initiatives.

After a morning spent walking around the Fontanelle Cemetery, the oldest ossuary in Naples, and the Sanità market, we believe that we have created enough of a calorie deficit to face a fried pizza – the original pizza, born before the more familiar oven-baked variety, and a universally beloved dish in the Neapolitan cuisine – with self-acquittal. And in the Sanità neighborhood, there’s no question that we’ll be seeking out the fried pizza of Isabella De Cham. The 26-year-old makes creative and high-quality fried foods in an elegant and polished restaurant, with a black-and-white color scheme – not quite what you’d expect for a fried pizza joint, although the familiar warmth is still there.

The last wood-fired coffee roaster in all of southern Italy is located, appropriately, in Bacoli. This area of Campi Flegrei, the Phlegraean fields of Naples (from the Greek word flègo, which means “burn”) is a part of the Gulf of Pozzuoli known since Roman times for its active volcanoes. It is here that Nicola Scamardella is carrying on his family’s tradition of roasting coffee with a wood-burning machine. Nicola is known in Bacoli as the son of Pasquale Scamardella, a man whose nickname was Pasquale della Torrefazione (“of the roastery”). In the 1960s, Pasquale and his wife Delia were working for a commercial coffee roaster in Naples.

Chef owner Angela Gargiulo calls her restaurant Buatta a trattoria di conversazione – a “conversation eatery.” Tucked in a peaceful corner of Vomero, the Neapolitan shopping district, Buatta is “…a conversation restaurant in the true sense of the word,” Angela tells us. “After cooking, and now that I have excellent collaborators [to help] in the kitchen, I have time to sit next to my customers; I talk to them at the table about the strangest things; it's as if they came over to my house.” Little by little, the restaurant (whose name, Buatta, from the French boite, is a Neapolitan word that means “jar”) has become a destination for those who love simple and quality cuisine, and for those who love to chat.

In the tiny Italian town of Cuccaro Vetere, some 150 kilometers south of Naples, villagers are surrounded by nature and an incredible variety of local fruits. The town, which is in Campania’s province of Salerno, has just over 500 inhabitants, and – even more than their nature’s bounty – these residents are known for one thing: their long lifespans.

There are flowers all around us. Seeds and plants are scattered here and there. Herbs and fresh fruits rest in wicker and reed baskets. Sitting amongst all this glory is Stefania Salvetti, who is telling us about Paradisiello, where she lives. Meaning “Little Paradise” in Italian, Paradisiello is where Stefania has a home with 2,000 square meters of greenery, citrus trees and even chickens. The big surprise? What sounds like a glorious village outside of Naples is actually a quarter within the city, very close to the historic center. Il Paradisiello is a small, romantic, peaceful place just a few meters from the noisy city. A site where time seems to stand still, the air somehow more rarefied.

Two-and-a-half kilometers of curves and narrow alleys at 150 meters above sea level. Breathtaking views overlooking the sea. A coast dominated by the blue of the sky and dotted with arabesque domes. All around is the unmistakable perfume of the sfusato amalfitano – the Amalfi lemon.

We climb up, arriving at the edge of the ancient Roman thermal baths of Baiae, which date back to the 1st century BCE. It has been pouring rain, but we see no standing water here. "We take obsessive care of the soil, and the water is cleverly drained just as our predecessors used to do it,” Luigi Di Meo, 61, tells us. Luigi is the owner of La Sibilla winery and vineyards, the grounds of which spreads out around us on this dreary day.

The requirements for a place to qualify as an authentic Neapolitan trattoria are simple: It must be tiny, intimate and quiet, with a small menu and a genuine atmosphere. In other words, it must be La Cantina Di Via Sapienza. This is not a trattoria with fake antiques strategically placed inside to draw tourists or chic Neapolitans looking for “aesthetic” culinary experiences. Rather, La Cantina Di Via Sapienza is a true neighborhood spot that serves meals to the employees and nurses of the nearby polyclinic, and to the students and professors from the various universities of the historic center.

Neapolitan restaurateurs hit the restart button in the year 2021. Dining has adapted to the new rules brought on by the Covid-19 pandemic – but at least we can say, at last, that we are back to having lunch in a restaurant. I missed sharing the experience of the restaurant so much. Sitting next to a stranger and breaking bread together. Making new friends and meeting old ones. Socializing. The trattorias and cafeterias where moments like these are possible are the places I pray for each night. That they will survive another month, another possible lockdown. Watching some of these close was a very hard blow, but there is something in the air again, something starting up. Naples is once again filled with tourists and there is a need, an urge, to be social once more.

Behind the counter at the modest Spiedo d’Oro, owner Vincenzo Monzo and his wife Cinzia have something welcoming to say to every customer who walks in. “The eggplant parmigiana will be ready in 10 minutes.” “The pasta and beans have just come out.” “Salvatore! You alone? No wife? We'll make you a plate of Genovese, and the gattò is on its way.” With a few spartan tables and a glass-lined counter where you can see everything that is available for lunch, Spiedo d’Oro is the definition of a no-frills joint. Like everyone around us, we’ve come here not just for the warm welcome but also for the simple but excellent Neapolitan dishes.

It is 1760 and on the throne in Naples is King Ferdinand IV. Pietro Colicchio has opened Pizzeria di Pietro e basta così, and the name says it all: “Pietro's Pizzeria and that's enough.” A restaurant strictly selling pizza, it will become known as one of Naples’ first pizzerias. As we move into the 19th century, Raffaele Esposito and his wife Giovanna Brandi take over Pietro’s, which is located on via Chiaia, the city’s “good sofa” as they say in Neapolitan, meaning one of the best and more elegant parts of the city. It’s here that Brandi Pizzeria creates a legend of its own, without the help of Pietro.