The market in Sulmona is a feast for the senses.

You enter Piazza Garibaldi by stepping down stone steps and passing through a series of stone arches. From street level you see the tops of the arches and beyond them, in the distance, snow-capped Apennine peaks. The vast National Park of Abruzzo, a magnet for nature lovers, surrounds the city.

Down the steps, through the arches, you enter a different world. There are about 200 vendors, under a crazy quilt of dazzling canopy colors, selling everything from DVDs to gym shoes, house wares to flowers, clothing to produce. You want a New York Yankee cap? Someone has a deal for you.

We join the other market-goers . . . walking, talking, smiling, enjoying the sun, aromas, excitement and vendor engagement of market day in Sulmona.

Italian vendors reach out to their customers. They charm them, cajole them, spin a playful web of banter and soon you find yourself negotiating for something that you suddenly feel compelled to buy.

My favorite vendor is the fish lady. She has it going on in a brightly painted truck . . . and she attracts a constant stream of customers. She winks, sings, laughs and puts on a great show. Hell, I almost buy a fish.

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Ristorante Clemente in Sulmona offers the genuine dishes of Abruzzo.

We weren’t being fair to Ristorante Clemente. We knew it . . . but we couldn’t help ourselves. We had allotted one night, one dinner in Abruzzo, a region in which neither of us had passed time. We sought to “taste Abruzzo” in that one meal. No small order.

We were in the small city of Sulmona on our way to Puglia. Our Ital’guru Fred Plotkin, author of Italy for the Gourmet Traveler, picks Sulmona as his “Classic Town” of the mountainous region east of Rome. Ristorante Clemente appears first on his “Dining List” and his description appealed to us. For insurance, we inquired of our hotelier and a local barista where we should dine. “Clemente,” they both answered. We even scouted out the restaurant location, tucked on a tiny back street, so we’d have no problem finding it later in the dark.

So it was that Walter roused me from a my nap at 7:15 p.m. so we could arrive when the doors opened for dinner service. He worried that a place this touted would fill up fast. No such problem transpired. Upon entry, we were invited to choose our own table and selected one deep in the rear of the main room under a splendid stone vaulted ceiling. Stone and gesso walls the color of cantaloupe cream, exciting food-related art work, photos of family members and a couple canvasses and prints of Sulmona created a cozy setting.

Chef Clemente Maiorano (right), son Alessandro (left), and another sous chef in the Clemente kitchen.

Chef/owner Clemente Maiorano, with warm brown eyes and salt-and-pepper Julius Caesar haircut-greeted us with a one-page menu. We asked if we could place our appetites in his able hands. He seemed pleased and disappeared through the archway into the kitchen. The waiter took over and reminded us how perfect service in Italy can be. Not obsequious, not aloof, just professional.

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