Saliso

Saliso looks straight out over the cove, and the kitchen takes its cues from what the day brings in: fish landed at the harbour that morning, vegetables and herbs cut from our own gardens, olive oil and lemons grown on the terraces below. Much of it meets the wood fire, which gives the cooking its quiet backbone — char on the langoustines, smoke threaded through a plate of summer greens, bread blistered at the edges.

The menu is short and changes with the season, leaning on the things Liguria does best and getting out of their way. As the afternoon softens, the terrace fills with low gold light, the air turns to salt and citrus, and dinner unfolds slowly over a bottle of something local while the water goes from blue to silver to dark.