The closing festivities take place on the third night, in San Vito’s piazza centrale, where dignitaries, chefs, and judges alike are herded onstage to cheers from the crowds. Peraino stands dwarfed and blushing between two towering starlets. Finally, the winner is announced: Ivory Coast’s Mama Africa. The crowd erupts, the cooks embrace, and more music blasts.


As the guests head to the beach — word has it a belly dancer is performing — I fall in with the food critic from the Italian food channel Gambero Rosso. Had we crowned a worthy champion, I ask? He looks bemused. “We judges don’t know anything about the history or mentality or culture behind these dishes,” he confesses. “So it’s really not possible for us to judge couscous. This is just theatre. Funny, crazy theatre.”