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

Al Nono Risorto, Venice

Fegato alla Veneziana sounds more romantic, doesn't it, than liver and onions? But that's what it amounts to, and they serve up a fine plate of it in the cosy dining rooms of Al Nono Risorto, just over the bridge from Campo San Cassiano. We stumbled upon it at first, then it became our 'neighbourhood restaurant' when we stayed a week in winter in an apartment at the edge of the square.

The restaurant comprises a series of dining rooms. The first, straight off the street, has a high ceiling, a bar and terrazzo floor tiles reminiscent of a French brasserie. Other rooms are smaller, and lower. When the restaurant is busy it's all bustle and noise and the staff of bright young things, some of whom seem more interested in how they look than what you have ordered, can be distracted. On one occasion when the restaurant was heaving and breaking the sound barrier I ordered fegato but was brought a steak (and a pretty raw one at that).

But don't let that put you off. This place has atmosphere. Enter into the spirit of it all and you'll enjoy it (as long as you don't have sensitive ears). We also ate pizza and pasta and chicken and seafood and other dishes that were excellent and extremely good value. The restaurant owner sat inside the door and checked every bill as diners came to pay – and rounded each one down. Well he did ours anyway. Nice touch.

We've only eaten here in winter, when the adjoining canopied garden was tired and closed, but I can imagine that it's a lovely space in which to eat in the warmer months. On winter evenings the light from the restaurant casts a warm glow onto the pavement outside, making it almost imperative to stop and read the handwritten menu taped to the window.

If you pass and hesitate, go in. You won't be disappointed.

Al Nono Risorto, Santa Croce 2338, Sottoportego di Siora Bettina, Venice 30121

Tel 041 524 1169

Here's another place without its own website. They obviously attach more importance to food than technology, which is fine by me. You'll find plenty of reviews out there though.

Antica Osteria della Valle, Todi, Umbria

If you imagine Umbria to be one big rural idyll, as I once did, the southbound E45 towards Todi comes as a bit of a surprise, flanked by industrial and retail units. I suppose not every Umbrian can be a farmer or an olive grower or a vineyard owner any more than we can all be sheep farmers or farm shop owners in Britain. The complete rural idyll is something of a myth, even here.

But as we headed south, there were increasing glimpses of the gentle Umbrian countryside – densely wooded hills, groves of shimmering olive trees and row upon row of vines, dripping with grapes, awaiting the Autumn harvest. That was more like it. And suddenly there was Todi, a proper hill town, doing what hill towns do best – perching on top of its hill.

Todi itself is a rather unremarkable town when compared with Umbrian neighbours Assisi or Orvieto, but it's a pleasant enough maze of steps and slopes and squares. In the broad piazza, where we stopped for coffee, a road crew was assembling the most enormous stage, with a lighting and sound rig that would do justice to The Rolling Stones. We never found out what this was for, but whatever it was it was going to be loud. Perhaps it was The Rolling Stones.

Persistent searching of the town rewarded us with the discovery of the recommended Antica Osteria delle Valle, where we stopped for lunch. The streetside restaurant was simple and inviting, with a shady canopy above just a handful of outside tables. The day's menu was handwritten and taped to the window (usually a good sign). The attractive young waitress, who may have been the owner's daughter, or may have been here temporarily from eastern Europe, spoke English with a markedly strong, strangely Transylvanian accent. She offered help with the menus. "For eny help viz ze menu you only heff to esk me. But plees, mek sure zat you finish your meal before sunset... oh, look, you heff cat yourself on ze knife... here, let me see..." Sorry, I watched a lot of Hammer horror films as a child. Somehow, Ingrid Pitt has made a lasting impression.

We started with the recommended antipasto della casa – crostini with fondue cheese flavoured with truffles, then a selection of bruschette and some other items which we couldn't identify, but which tasted good nevertheless. Then the pasta della casa – strangozzi with fresh tomatoes and truffles, and I had the beef fillet. The strips of meat were beautifully cooked, meltingly tender and served with rocket, lemon and olive oil, with a scattering of juniper berries on top. The odd whiff of two-stroke from a passing scooter added a certain non so che.

Curiously, there were no mirrors in the toilets...

Osteria delle Valle, 19 Via Ciuffelli, Todi

Tel 075 8944848

The restaurant doesn't appear to have its own website, unless it only comes online after sunset...?

California Park Hotel, Forte dei Marmi, Tuscany

Despite my hopeful expectations, the girl on reception didn't greet our arrival by singing the words 'welcome to the Hotel California'. Spoilsport.

I've no idea what California has to do with this lovely hotel, but I suppose there is a certain 'west coast relaxed' feel to its location – in beautifully landscaped grounds just a couple of hundred metres from the beach. Our room was in a two-storey villa a little way away from the main hotel, near the swimming pool and surrounded by manicured lawns and shady trees. We had our own spacious terracotta-tiled terrace, bordered by jasmine and hydrangea.

This is the kind of hotel where you can't help but relax. We woke later each morning we were here, and did less each day. But the highlight was undoubtedly the food, especially the seafood. Dinner was served in a bright airy restaurant with a vaguely nautical feel. On out first night here we had pasta with scampetti, which was extremely good, then gilthead bream and an excellent veal chop. It was dark when we emerged from the restaurant to enjoy coffee and liqueurs on the terrrace, served by a mature lady with a striking resemblance to the actress Honor Blackman. There were a few families staying at the hotel while we were there, and the sounds of children enjoying themselves in the garden, squeakily making animals out of balloons late into the evening, was a slightly surreal but rather pleasant backdrop to Honor's refined service.

Ms Blackman was in fine form on our last night here, as I found her in the bar tasting varieties of limoncello offered by a handsome young Italian girl whose mother apparently made the stuff. Honor made her selection and put the chosen bottle behind the bar. 'I will reserve this for my best guests...such as this gentleman!' she flattered huskily. We never saw sight of the bottle again.

Our final dinner was again outstanding. Crostini with clams, then a wonderfully flavourful tagliatelle with morsels of langoustine and zucchine flowers. Pasta with aubergine, then roast chicken, which really did taste like chicken! Finally fresh fruit and pecorino cheese.

The taste of that langoustine tagliatelle will stay with me for a long time. Perhaps the song was right. You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave.

California Park Hotel, Via Colombo, 32, I-55042, Forte dei Marmi (LU), Riviera della Versilia

Tel 0584 787121

California Park Hotel

Villa Liberty, Siena, Tuscany

We reached Siena in the mid-afternoon and, despite having no directions (we'd accidentally thrown them away back in Florence), found our hotel - the Villa Liberty - quite easily. It was situated on a broad, tree-lined avenue on the town's outskirts, about ten minutes from the centre, and we could park right outside. Small and homely, the Villa Liberty was comfortable and clean and definitely up to the job of accommodating us for one night. It also had the tallest ceilings of any hotel we've stayed in, and an unusual shower which sprayed water randomly across the whole bathroom.

We found the Piazza del Campo broad and sunlit, but overall Siena seemed a dark town, with dark buildings and alleyways that somehow seemed to hold on to its medieval past more than most. We'd missed the Palio by just days, and even managed to miss a procession with music and horses and costume that took place on the very afternoon we were there.

Weary and a little footsore, we found a promising trattoria on the way back to the hotel. Here I committed the cardinal sin of the travel reviewer, because I didn't make a note of its name. My spaghetti puttanesca (chef's recommendation) to start was fine, as was the Caprese salad. My vitello alla griglia was good too - a huge, thinly batted escalope of veal with a side dish of cannelloni beans. Swordfish all'Amalfi (odd when we were such a long way from that coast) was still swimming, but had swapped the Mediterranean for a rich sauce of tomatoes and capers. The bottle of Chianti was very good, but so it should have been for the price.

So really it was all okay. But the menu seemed all over the place and written to please a common denominator - the tourist. Maybe we were just being grumpy that evening, but sitting in the restaurant we noted that as each set of guests was talked through the menu and proposed the 'chef's recommendations', the same poor fish was removed from the window display and paraded around the restaurant as sea bass, which it plainly wasn't. When it came to dessert, a sample dish of tiramisu circulated the room like an experienced, if slightly worn, party host.

We wound our way back to the hotel as the evening sun cast a dramatic glow over the old town. While Helen took a shower I enjoyed coffee and whisky in the comfortable lounge, where I was joined by two Dutch ladies. Unfortunately my Dutch is limited to brief business dealings with a client in Holland, so I only knew how to say 'good morning', 'good afternoon' and 'happy Christmas', none of which seemed appropriate to the occasion. I downed my whisky and retired to bed.

Too late I remembered that they might have liked the joke about the sad fate of the Dutch girl with inflatable shoes. Think about it.

Hotel Villa Liberty, Viale Vittorio Veneto 11 - Siena

Tel 0577 44966

Villa Liberty, Siena