Monterey's regional cuisine is defined by geographical blessings and cultural influences.

Any area''s regional cuisine is defined as much by the temperament of its climate as its people. The Central Coast of California is a uniquely endowed part of the world, spilling over with year-round harvests from both land and sea and into cooking pots seasoned by time-tested traditions of many cultures, while continuously mixing with all that is new.

Here in Monterey County, with our blend of incoming cultures, we are blessed with a stunning number of ethnic restaurants and influences out of all proportion to the size of our population. We have Indian, Philipino, Central and South American, French, German...the list goes on to span virtually the whole globe--not to mention good ol'' fashioned, down-home steakhouses. But if there''s any cuisine that we are truly known for, it''s a Sicilian-based style of cooking that''s been modified to capitalize on our rare abundance of fresh fish and produce.

The Whaling Station and The Sardine Factory sit at the top of the list in terms of name recognition. They have become destination locations for visitors to Monterey from all over the world. But of no less stature in terms of quality are the many smaller restaurants that came before and have come after. There are near-legendary restaurants from the past, like Angelo''s and Mike''s on Fisherman''s Wharf. And there are new restaurants by the score that have become local favorites, and which have developed their own followings among regular visitors to the area: the Fish House (in both Monterey and Salinas), Paradiso Trattoria, Spado''s, Favaloro''s, Vito''s and more.

The story of how Sicilian cuisine came to dominate MoCo cookery reads like a John Steinbeck novel. First, there were the land and the sea. Then there were the people. And as the people nourished the earth, the earth nourished the people, each giving to the other and conspiring to create a cuisine that is unique to Monterey County.

The Land

In Monterey County, the cerulean waters of the Pacific turn a brilliant, sparkling white as the tide crests and breaks against the sandy, outstretched arms surrounding the Monterey Bay. Fog mingles with the sun to fashion a year-round mildness. Together with the fertile, sandy loam--tamed by the plow, and fertilized with blood, sweat and tears--all combine in an eco-system that helps feed the world.

From the Salinas Valley and patches of coastal farms, come head and leaf lettuce, broccoli, celery, cauliflower and spinach, strawberries, grapes, artichokes, garlic and mushrooms. Monterey County is California''s most prolific producer of vegetable commodities totaling some 40 varieties, each ranging from over $1 million to more than $400 million in 1997 revenues. But agricultural products are just part of our harvest.

With a front yard of deep blue sea that stretches from Morro Bay to the Farralon Islands, Monterey''s 1996 fish harvest yielded more than 51.5 million pounds of fish: Dover, rex and petrale sole, almost 30 varieties of rockfish, swordfish, squid, grenadier, mackerel, halibut, anchovies, salmon, tuna, sardines, shrimp, crab and more.

And Mother Nature is no less generous with her geographic beauty. Rolling Salinas Valley farmland gives way to teetering mountain ranges where huge redwoods cast their long shadows into crashing surf. It''s no surprise that, against this bountiful backdrop, for the last 12 years, chefs from all over the world congregate for an event known as The Masters of Food and Wine.

For one momentous week, the Highlands Inn in Carmel is host to a cooking compendium not likely to be found anywhere else gathered under one roof. Executive Chef Cal Stamenov''s kitchen staff swells to accommodate as many as 90 cooking professionals all chopping and dicing in a finely tuned frenzy for a back-to-back line-up of elegant luncheons, live demos and multi-course dinners.

So taken are they with the excitement of the event, some of these visiting celebrity chefs return again and again for the festivities. Joaquim Splichal, owner of the highly acclaimed Patina and five other restaurants (known as Pinot throughout the Los Angeles area and Pinot Blanc in Napa Valley), is an award-winning chef and frequent Masters participant. He has taken time to understand the area.

"The fish, the artichokes, the garlic--this is quintessential Monterey cuisine!" Splichal enthuses. "You can bet that these products that the Monterey Peninsula is renowned for can be found on all of my menus at any given time."

Noted KCBS Radio wine and food expert Narsai David is also a familiar face at the event.

"When you think about the Central Coast, it''s the abundance that immediately comes to mind," notes David. "All the seafood, produce, strawberries." David also notes the 27 wineries and six appellations found within Monterey County. "The wine industry here is ever-expanding. And what they''re producing are some exceptional world class wines."

The People

If you have the good fortune to explore all the 600 restaurants that are in this county of about 350,000 residents, you''ll bump into many recurring family names. Some of them have become famous beyond their hometown, but most have simply become a part of the area''s extended family--it''s a blessing that comes with longevity in the restaurant business.

Many of the names you hear came to the area in an earlier era, before the restaurants, hotels and tourist attractions began to replace the gritty grind of an economy based on fish. It''s a community of close ties, both by blood and proximity. Rumors of occasional rifts between rival groups flutter for a while and then fall silent. The deeper truth is that there''s a wonderful shared history among the people who first came here to fish sardines, had families, and then proceeded to dig in for the long haul even when the fishing industry took a sudden plunge.

Shortly after the turn of the century, an influx of fishermen chased the promise of prosperity from Sicily to Monterey. Pulling anchor from the Mediterranean to follow the silvery schools of sardines to America, some first came by way of North Africa, sending family members ahead to make their pilgrimage through Ellis Island. From New York and Boston, a steady migration came west to New York Landing (which later became known as Pittsburg, California), an area regaled for sturgeon and salmon fishing out of the Sacramento River. From there, they continued a westward migration and, by 1922, almost 90 percent of the Monterey fishing community was made up of Italian immigrants.

Along with the people came new technology. Lampara nets made it possible to encircle entire schools of fish. And then, gasoline-powered engines ushered in boom times that begat 28 canneries to process the huge hauls. But, on the heels of one of the most prosperous fishing seasons on record, and only a few short years after John Steinbeck published the novel Cannery Row in 1945, this way of life was erased by the sudden scarcity of sardines.

Certified Executive Chef Bert Cutino, host of the television show "Celebrity Chefs" and owner of the landmark Sardine Factory restaurant, recalls this earlier time.

"It was the ''60s, after the movie came out, East of Eden and I''m just a kid, the captain''s son, scrubbing down my father''s boat. Last guy to leave. My father sees a friend of my uncle''s, a big bearded guy wearing a fishing cap and turtleneck sweater and waves him on board. They go into the cabin for a drink. When he comes back out, the guy says to me, ''Always do what you like to do and you''ll be happy in your life.'' And he walks off the boat. I ask my father, ''Pop, who was that guy?'' And my father, who never spoke English, said to me in Italian, ''Oh, my son, you oughta feel sorry for that guy. Some drunken writer your uncle knows. Steinbeck--something like that. Never amount to nothing!''"

Cutino laughs, going on to trace the transition from fishing port to tourist mecca.

"Back then, you''d be sitting in school," says Cutino "and all of a sudden everybody would say, ''Oh, God, the sardines are in again. They''re packing ''em.'' The smell would permeate the air! My mother would be down there canning them, and my father and grandfather would be bringing them in, along with my cousins and uncles. As a descendant, my future certainly looked like I was going to be on a fishing boat or working in a cannery.

"But, here you have an industry that was going down. It was a very tough way to make a living; I looked at my father go through the whole process. If there weren''t any hospitality industry here for me, I wouldn''t be here," he reflects.

"We had to start thinking of other things to do when the fish went away," Tony DiGirolamo exclaims. The son of Philipo and Rosina, one of six brothers in a family of 12 children, Tony recalls how it all began. "My brother, Angelo, was all for opening up a business, so we started with a fish market on the Wharf. I used to go up to San Francisco a lot during that time, watching my father''s fishing boat, the King Philipo, being built. At that time the only restaurants on the Wharf were Pop Ernest''s, Mike''s and Sonny Boy''s. So I got the idea to get this old abandoned building that some Japanese had used as a wholesale house," he recalled. "So we decided to fix it up and make it a restaurant."

"[Janko] Varda was a friend of mine, an artist. He was around all the time," Tony goes on. "We used to go fishing together, way before the restaurant. He helped us build the place. We scavenged lumber and recycled wood from the Presidio and Varda did collages all over and decorated the place. Then Henry Miller started coming to Angelo''s, and the woman he was with, another writer, Ana‹s Nin. Steinbeck, Ricketts--I knew them all, tended bar there for years. It was a real bohemian place."

The multi-colored pink and black motif and the startling wooden faces Varda incorporated into his creation made something of a splash. The year was 1947 and in one her diaries that was later published, Ana‹s Nin wrote:

"I was just in time to witness a great battle among the people of Monterey, outraged by Varda''s creation of a restaurant on Fishermen''s Wharf. The newspapers were filled with letters. They said: "Someone who has no sympathy for our traditions has moved in."

Regardles

s, the restaurant opened. And it was quite an opening. Also from Nin''s diary:

"To celebrate the opening of Angelo''s caf‚, we were invited come in disguise. It was difficult to find odds and ends to make costumes out of...There were no curtains, no draperies, no paints, no textiles. We did the best we could. I dressed John''s (Steinbeck) wife: From the waist up she was a nun, in brown chiffon, with a cross on her breast. Below was the same chiffon, trailing to the floor, but without a slip underneath, so her legs could be seen in silhouette.

"When we arrived, there were some costumes done by Varda which were marvelous. He had dressed some of the young women as his collages."

"What did we serve at that time?" Tony asks. "It was Varda''s idea to sell clam chowder. And I brought the idea of selling pizza from Boston. There were just two places that had it in San Francisco at that time. And we were the first ones around to sell squid!" Tony finishes.

Tony''s wife, Fran, worked as a waitress at Angelo''s. "We knew the word ''calamari'' and figured out that it sounded better, but the GI''s who had been to Europe knew squid. It took a few years, but it caught on," Fran recalls. "When the restaurant started, I was at home with the kids and working at the cannery. Then I got to working as a waitress. Here it was, the furthest thing from my mind and I did it for 40 years! And I guess if it was still open, I''d like to do it again. But part-time."

The Food!

"You talk about calamari!" trumpets Phil DiGirolamo, Tony and Fran''s nephew and one of 59 first cousins who worked at Angelo''s on the Wharf. "You think you bought it cleaned like we do now? No! We cleaned every pound. Somebody would come in and say, "I got squid! And the cousins would groan, ''Ahh, shheeesh!'' Buckets and buckets. The Italians and Orientals knew how good it was. To everybody else, it was bait."

"Back then my grandfather would go out in a little skiff," he reminisced, "and he''d put out baskets with hooks and a long line, and pull in halibut, sole, sand dabs. Then he''d bring it in and I''d start cutting and filleting to put it on for lunch. It was that easy.

"Abalone was also plentiful in the bay at that time," Phil continues. "We''d take a whole loaf of bread, plop the abalone steaks on there, cut it into three pieces, sell each one with French fries--$4.50 out the door! It was all good fresh food, but the food we cooked then isn''t what we cook now. Back then we breaded everything--shrimp, scallops, what a pain in the ass! Lots of steamed clams, and butter in everything. You could buy clams, piles of them for nothing. And shrimp, $2 a pound.

"There was lots of [camaraderie] between the Monterey and Pittsburg families," he went on, "and people would come down here for festivals, days in the summertime where we''d probably do a thousand meals. I''d go upstairs and look out, and there''d be people all the way to the end of the Wharf! We''d sell out of everything. And the old-timers would get together at Lovers Point, put watermelons and wine in the water to get cold. They''d wade out in the water and get abalone, start bonfires and grill sausages. But it was the sea urchins they loved best. It was like eating caviar. Just squeeze the innards onto bread. Life was simple then," he reflects.

Later, in partnership with his father, they moved their wholesale fish business up the coast from Monterey to Moss Landing. At Phil''s Fish Market and Eatery, local fish like sand dabs, halibut and flounder are showcased on a huge pile of crushed ice, alongside exotics like opa and bluefin as they migrate through on the warm Japanese currents. Seawater tanks hold Monterey Bay spot prawns and Dungeness crabs and the aroma of cioppino wafts on the air.

The caf‚''s reputation for this heady fish stew, redolent with saffron and garlic, has swelled to the degree that customers bring in their own pots to fill up and take home. During the holiday season, the pots stack up to the ceiling. (See sidebar.)

Phil''s cousins David, Tony and John DiGirolamo also began their lives in the restaurant business at Angelo''s. "We were pretty small at the time and had to stand on a rack to spray the dishes," Tony grins. "So we were only considered to be one worker, and had to split the $1.80 an hour!" Growing up in the kitchen, surrounded by a family that cooks is a legacy that goes on even after Angelo''s closed its doors after a remarkable 39-year run. Along with partner Frank Massaro, the group has opened two restaurants in the last three years: Monterey''s Fish House and The Salinas Valley Fish House, both of which quickly became local favorites.

"Our grandparents would seat 100 of us in their house at Christmas time," says David. "What we ate then is what you''ll find on our menu now; the Sicilian holiday pasta, the barbecued oysters." From oysters to octopus to the freshest local fish in season, the simplicity of grilling has all but replaced the earlier breaded-and-fried standard, with nothing more than a kiss of garlic and butter, and a lick of hot oak flames.

David is quick to credit the strength of the family with their success. "There''s been lots of family to rely on," says David. "Johnny works in Monterey with Frank and his nephew, Oliver, another partner. And Tony works in Salinas when he''s not up in Alaska with our cousin, Steve Kubota. Tony is first mate on a fishing vessel and Steve is the chief engineer--when he''s not behind the line, like me, cooking at one of the restaurants," he explains. "I''ve come about as close as to cloning myself as I can!"

Other families are also bound by their ties to the water. Dominic Mercurio''s father, Jean was one of a group of Sicilians who resettled in North Africa and later followed the sardine industry to Monterey. Passing on the skill of fishing was a rite of passage that brought his sons with him north to Alaska for salmon and later to South America for tuna, seasons that are still observed. Today, Dominic buys fish from his brother''s boat for his restaurant, Caf‚ Fina, located on the Wharf that he first knew as a playground, the same site that was originally his favorite roof-top diving board.

Caf‚ Fina specializes in heritage Sicilian dishes like homemade raviolis filled with crab or salmon, their own style of cioppino, and calamari with peas and pasta. But Mercurio was one of the first on the scene to become known for the variety of small, thin-crusted pizzas that he turns out of a wood-burning brick oven. The earthy flavor it imbues now wafts in the breeze along the Wharf, carrying the perfume of whole roasted heads of garlic, drizzled with olive oil and fire-roasted artichokes, sold alongside bowls of sourdough bread, hollowed out and filled with clam chowder.

Across from Caf‚ Fina is Domenico''s, where Mercurio first partnered with his uncle, John Pisto, before striking out on his own. And across from Domenico''s is Abalonetti''s, another Pisto restaurant where a mind-boggling 70 tons of squid a year is processed, and where the variety of calamari dishes is the house calling card. The dubious seafood of yesteryear is now feted at its own annual squid festival, and it''s no doubt that John Pisto, host of the syndicated TV cooking show, "Monterey''s Cookin'', Pisto Style," has helped to make it famous. Calamari steak with eggplant parmigiana is a stock specialty at area Italian restaurants and scarcely a menu of any description exists without deep-fried calamari prominently featured as an appetizer.

Beginning on the Wharf with a tiny fish-and-chips place, Pisto recently opened his fifth restaurant, Paradiso Oyster Bar, next door to Paradiso Trattoria on Cannery Row. His first dinner house, the Whaling Station, was opened in 1970, on the site of a Chinese junk store that narrowly missed the wrecking ball. Today it is recognized for its USDA prime steaks as well as a menu that celebrates other local products like wild mushrooms, several varieties of which he harvests locally, and house-cured Monterey Bay anchovies, pan-fried Sicilian style and served with his own ''Italian salsa.''

When Pisto was getting his start, an awareness of regional cuisine was just beginning to take shape. "I had traveled in France and fallen in love with how they ate, cooking what they had locally, fresh and in season. All the little wineries. So I thought, why can''t we do that here? Get rid of the Lancer''s Rose and get in the real stuff from our own area. Serve the Monterey Bay spot prawns, that only the Italians would buy to cook," he laughs. "And you know what? It worked."

And it has worked for others, too. The Spadaro family, daughters Geralynn, Michelle, and Marielena are now on their second generation restaurant, Tutto Buono. Their brother John, has his own place, Spado''s in Salinas. Their cousins, Kathleen Mineo and son Steve Cardinalli, are in Carmel, at The Cottage Restaurant. And their cousins, Erasmo Aiello and Rosario Zito, can be found at Palermo Bakery. These are all places that keep cherished, heritage-cooking traditions alive while assimilating the abundance of what is fresh and local.

There are other names as well. Rappa, Balestreri, Anastasia, Tringali, Favaloro, Aliotti and more, all with their own stories to tell. Names that originate in other parts of the world also congregate here, attracted by the same bounty and disseminating their own influence. They all become pages out of one book, however, and that book is the story of the land, the people, the food and the place that we all call home.