Casa Lawa, Sicily

This post was originally featured in the  Yolo Spring 2025 print issue.

Tucked behind an industrial-style metal door, up a narrow potholed lane in the hills of eastern Sicily, sits Casa Lawa, a bright jewel of a guest house. I stumbled upon it in an Instagram scroll one night when my young kids were sleeping, and I vowed I would get there by year’s end. But when school holidays didn’t align for a family trip, I took it as a sign—an invitation to do something different. I invited my sister on a short creative escape: three nights to shoot a few rolls of film and soak up some Sicilian magic, untethered from our everyday responsibilities. 

A former grape press, Casa Lawa was built of black lava stone in the shadow of Mount Etna, which continuously grumbled and groaned during our stay. The interiors were masterminded by the Polish owner ,creative director-turned-chef, Lukas Lewandowski, as an expression of pure technicolor, with contrasting stripes and rainbow brights in every corner. Each of the four bedrooms is carved out of the black rock, while the communal living areas invite visitors in with cozy pink chairs, piles of art books and an open fire. 

We spent a day exploring Taormina, less than an hour away, but passed most of our time by the pool overlooking the Ionian Sea, soaking up the October sun. In the early evening, we pulled on jumpers and walked into the hills behind the house, picking fresh figs and visiting the beehives where our breakfast honey was being produced under the watchful eye of the volcano. 

Every two weeks, a new resident chef flies in from some far-flung part of the world and creates a menu from the local catch and fresh fruit and vegetables grown in Casa Lawa’s kitchen gardens. Our British chef had piled the table with sea bass crudo, homemade ravioli stuffed with ricotta, and newly shelled walnuts from the orchard. As the evening settled into a crisp, clear night, staff and guests sat together and caught up like old friends over candlelight, soaking up the last of the olive oil with freshly baked focaccia and washing it down with Campari sodas. Simple and sweet, it was everything I hoped this brief but beautiful Italian dream could be.