Marco Maxia seems like a man from another era. Firmly rooted in his native Sardinia after experiences abroad, he chose to become a farmer despite not having inherited the trade — his grandfather was a fisherman, his father a factory worker. Armed with a diploma in agricultural science and a deep, genuine love for the land, Maxia, now 48, began reviving abandoned caper fields twenty years ago. In 2005, he launched Sardinia’s very first caper processing facility.
To this day, his farm remains the only one on the island that manages the entire caper supply chain, from cultivation to processing. Maxia brings to his work an old-world sense of discipline: he doesn’t use WhatsApp and prefers to send photos of his capers via certified mail. When he picks up the phone, he’s often on his tractor, working the fields around Selargius — the town where his farm, Il Cappero Selargino, is based, and where he tends to around 600 caper shrubs.
As of December 2024, Marco Maxia’s name has become even more closely tied to the region, thanks to the official recognition of the Selargius caper as a Slow Food Presidia product, a milestone that marks the importance of safeguarding its biodiversity, much like what was achieved for the better-known Salina caper.
The caper plant that grows in the inland areas around Cagliari is truly one of a kind. Unlike in Sicily, where capers creep along the ground, here the plant grows upright, reaching heights of up to five feet. Its buds, before blooming, are lighter than other varieties: so much so that, in the past, they were sold by volume like chickpeas, rather than by weight. This distinctive trait also affects how the Selargius caper is used in cooking. It’s so delicate that heat would destroy its aroma and texture. That’s why the vinegar-cured version is only added at the very end when preparing coniglio a succhittu, a traditional Campidano-style rabbit dish listed among Sardinia’s traditional agri-food products. Selargius capers have even captured the imagination of chefs, pizza makers, and ice cream artisans. Think of the reimagined Galician-style octopus by chef Cristiano Andreini at Mos, in the Catalan enclave of Alghero; the Cappericciosa pizza at Framento in Cagliari; or the fresh bud, later caramelized, used in the gourmet gelato created by Aresu, again in the Sardinian capital.
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In an interview published in L’Unione Sarda on September 17, 2000, Marco Maxia spoke of having taken several trips to Sicily, with one of the most pivotal being a visit to Pantelleria, where he immersed himself in the world of capers in a land where they’ve long been big business. Exactly fifteen years later, on that same volcanic island, Pasquale Bonsignore was deep into his second olive harvest for Incuso, a research-driven company that had earned a reputation for its premium olive oil and table olives. It was in Pantelleria that Bonsignore crossed paths with Gabriele Lasagni, a humanities scholar from Emilia-Romagna who found himself, somewhat unexpectedly, in the caper world. Lasagni is also the “adoptive” grandson of Antonio Bonomo, one of the founders of La Nicchia, a celebrated brand known for its exquisite ‘green gold.’ Among the first to raise concerns about the drop in production and the lack of fair wages for seasonal workers, Lasagni played a key role in breathing new life into the Pantelleria caper industry, opening up fresh avenues for its appreciation and value.
Today, the two entrepreneurs who once met by chance in Pantelleria are now business partners in D’stilla, the first venture from the start-up Labo Officine Pantesche. Together, they’ve explored innovative uses of the caper, experimenting with drying techniques, flavored salts and oils, and employing every part of the plant: from buds and berries to leaves. The result is a diverse line of products that includes salt-cured capers and cucunci (the fruit, which still contains the seed), caper leaves preserved in oil, granules, and powder. Their work has also led to high-profile collaborations, such as bespoke capers for Carlo Cracco’s gourmet shop, and an exclusive supply for chef Diego Rossi’s iconic vitello tonnato, a fixture on the menu at Trippa in Milan.
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Stories of place, artisanal skill, and all the magic of fermentation: when it comes to capers, the parallels with fine wine are hard to ignore. It’s no surprise, then, that among the Aeolian Islands there’s one – the greenest of all – where the caper plant (Capparis spinosa) receives the same care and attention as the sun-dried Malvasia grapes used for the local dessert wine.
Ask Nino Caravaglio, a winemaker from the Aeolian archipelago, and he’ll tell you capers are essential: “They brighten up every dish,” he says. At his winery in Salina, caper pâté is a staple during tastings. His caper bushes grow along the edges of the vineyards, and everyone on the team helps with the staggered harvest, from late spring through the end of summer. It’s done entirely by hand, and always before dawn, to beat the heat. Just as he’s done all his life, Caravaglio still rises at 4 a.m. to gently pluck the caper buds from the branch, never more than five at a time, before they bloom. What rewards him for the effort? The many delicious dishes he’s tasted made with his capers. The most surprising? Fried caper buds served like popcorn, in New York. The one closest to his heart? Chef Gianfranco Pascucci’s fish soup.
Still on Salina, the second largest of the Aeolian Islands after Lipari, where agriculture rests on two cornerstones, vines and capers, a younger winemaking project is taking shape: Eolia, founded by Luca Caruso and his partner Natascia Santandrea. They discovered their caper plants while taking over old vineyards scattered across the island. Starting with a conservation-minded restoration approach, they gradually became owners or caretakers of several caper groves, which they now tend with the help of local workers. Part of their harvest is gifted to guests of Signum, the Caruso family’s resort, while the rest, amounting to a few hundred kilos a year, is entrusted to the hands of Martina Caruso, Luca’s sister and the resort’s Michelin-starred chef. Her kitchen uses capers throughout the menu: from caper mayo tucked between the layers of the island-style Club sandwich served at the bistro, to the iconic caper gelato that’s been on the fine dining menu for over a decade, served as a pre-dessert. Another evergreen dish? The Spicy Capp, a shaken cocktail by Raffaele Caruso, Luca and Martina’s cousin, inspired by classic salads dressed with wild mint and chili. New to the drink list this season is the Sa-Lima, a cocktail that bridges Peru and Salina by combining caper leaves with chili-infused pisco.
Salina, with its heady scent of Malvasia grapes and the dazzling white blossoms of caper plants, is also home to some of the most original and innovative interpretations of the caper tradition. At Sapori Eoliani, the family-run farm now led by Maurizia Di Lorenzo after the untimely passing of her son Roberto Rossello, creativity takes center stage with unexpected offerings like caper jam and candied capers. Pushing tradition even further is the Virgona family business, which produces Beatrice, a caper-infused beer that balances the bitterness of hops with the briny, herbal notes of this tiny Mediterranean bud.
Dining and Cooking