La Piazzetta dell'Erba, Assisi, Umbria

Approached on the road from Torgiano, Assisi appeared above fields of sunflowers and corn, its pink stone refecting the morning sunlight, though dark clouds were already gathering ominously above the hills behind the town.

We parked in one of the out-of-town car parks and walked, well climbed, the short distance into the town, entering at Porta Molano, which opens onto Piazza Santa Chiara, offering glorious views onto the plain below. St Francis didn't look on us as kindly as he might have that morning, as with a rumble of thunder the dark clouds rolled over the town and the heavens opened, delivering torrential rain. For around half an hour we huddled beneath a dripping shop canopy as the rain turned the street into a small river. Even the nuns got wet. But once past, the town quickly dried and we walked its length, through the Piazza del Commune and on to the Basilica di San Francesco.

Our lunch choice was at the opposite end of town, back near where we'd started, so by the time we arrived at the Piazzetta dell'Erba after one o'clock, we'd worked up an appetite. We ate inside a brick-vaulted, busy dining room, served by a young waitress with unbelievably thick-lensed short-sighted glasses which magnified her eyes to fairy tale proportions. "All the better to serve you with." A selection of bruschette included the most pungent garlic I've ever experienced (made more potent, I think, by the peppery olive oil), and we also tried a delicious plate of pears with pecorino cheese, walnuts and honey. Then penne al fattore and morsels of tender lamb grilled on skewers, washed down with half a carafe of red wine. The restaurant was quite full but, as tourists, we were in the minority of diners that lunchtime.

This is the kind of place that you find all over Italy and wish you could find more frequently in Britain. Family run, serving good, simple food based on what it can source locally and cook well, and aimed primarily at local people – if a few tourists walk in, that's all to the good. It's not about awards or 'gastro' this or that or fancy presentation. Just excellent food.

And all at a reasonable price.

La Piazzetta dell'Erba, via San Gabriele dell'Addolorata 15b, Assisi

Tel 075 815352

Another one that's internet shy. Doesn't matter when the food's this good.

Pizzeria L'Oasi, San Martino in Campo, Umbria

Sometimes the simplest of places are the most memorable, don't you think?

We were staying at the Hotel Posta dei Donini, tucked away in San Martino in Campo deep in Umbria (see separate post). A lovely hotel, but quite formal, especially in the evening. So if you wanted to relax and avoid dressing for dinner (I always want to relax and avoid dressing for dinner), then you had to leave the hotel. And if you didn't want to drive, your choices were limited. San Martino is a sleepy, workmanlike place that you can walk around in about five minutes.

But we struck gold when we found the Pizzeria l'Oasi. It looked like just a house, with a canopy on the side where otherwise a garage might have been. We were warmly welcomed and eagerly served and, despite being the only non-locals in a place probably unused to many tourists, made to feel very much at home. Seated outside in the warm evening, alongside Italian couples and families, we enjoyed great value, delicious pizza and even better value vino alla spina.

On our final night in the village, our hotel filled with elegantly dressed Italians attending a wedding. The hotel was clearly out to impress, so we left them to it and headed out once more for our by now 'local' ristorante pizzeria. It was Saturday night and the place was buzzing! We shared a pizza primavera, a plate of really delicious fries to which they seemed to have added vinegar as well as salt (perhaps they had been researching British tastes in an effort to make us feel even more at home). When we asked for the bill the owner brought us a gift – a small candle in a glass jar of oil – "to remember our visit". He explained that he was Jordanian, hence the name of the restaurant, and had been in Italy for ten years. Long enough to learn how to make a damn good pizza, obviously.

We said our goodbyes and wandered back to the hotel to find the wedding party in full swing, yet oddly quiet, and the hotel grounds scattered with sharply dressed guests. We retired to bed, somewhat scruffily by comparison. That night I dreamed of eating pizza by a Jordanian oasis, while oil lamps flickered in the desert night.

Must have been all that free-flowing vino.

Pizzeria l'Oasi, Via 1 Maggio, 6 San Martino in Campo, Perugia

Tel 075 609754

No web site that I can find, and hardly any other reviews, so you'll just have to take my word for it!

Hotel Marina Riviera, Amalfi, Costa Amalfitana

He cut a rakish figure at the arrivals barrier at Naples airport – slightly built, wearing jeans, a white shirt and dark blazer, sunglasses on his head, pushed back into his greying hair. And holding a paper sign with our name on it. He was our taxi driver, pre-booked to transfer us to our hotel in Amalfi. He loaded our luggage into the boot of the silver Mercedes and we were off.

At first the journey was one of straight, fast roads, as we left Naples and sped southwards. Our driver told us that he had grown up in this part of Italy, but had left some years ago and gone to America, where he had been (he said) a taxi driver in New York. I sat beside him, and as he told his story, he tapped my arm repeatedly for emphasis. After a while he'd had enough of New York, and had decided (he said) to come back to the place he grew up. Now everyone here called him Americano (he said).

After about forty five minutes, we turned off the main road. "Now I'ma gonna takea you ona the mosta beautiful Amalfi drive" Americano promised, in his best Robert de Niro accent. He tapped my arm harder, perhaps to emphasise the delights that awaited us. The road narrowed and became increasingly twisted, until it was impossible to see around each upcoming bend. Americano continued to drive with the same one-handed nonchalance that he had used to negotiate the autostrada, and now occasionally answered his mobile too, sometime talking for several minutes. Sheer walls of stone sped by on our right, whilst the road edge fell away in a scrumble of scree to the deep blue Mediterranean on our left. Periodically Americano would beep and wave to passing motorists, though they never acknowledged the greeting. Disconcertingly, he would tap my arm at the the most difficult point of manoeuvre, to tell me some tale or other. Oh, and he had a particular, almost psychopathic, dislike of oncoming German coaches.

At last we made it to Amalfi, and the more relaxed charms of Marina Riviera. Situated directly on the road that winds through the town, we nevertheless stepped into an oasis of calm and delightful hospitality. Cool tiles, white walls, simple furniture. Our two adjoining rooms had small covered balconies which looked out over the harbour and the town beyond. The breakfast room opened onto a sun terrace with the same view, and breakfast itself was very good, with all manner of sweet and savoury morsels with which to start the day. After dinner in the town, drinks on the restaurant's elevated terrace in the warm evening air, watching the lights of the offshore boats, was a perfect ending to the day.

At the end of our short stay, Americano took us back to the airport. En route we stopped for petrol. I can see him now, standing at the open car door, petrol pump in his hand, waving at the passing motorists, and puffing on a lighted cigarette...

Hotel Marina Riviera, Amalfi (SA), 84011 Via P. Comite, 19

Tel 089 871104

Hotel Marina Riviera