Belvedere di San Martino, the babà that captures Naples in one bite

At the Belvedere di San Martino, Naples opens up like an amphitheater: among domes, rooftops, and the sea, the babà accompanies a break filled with aromas, light, and gastronomic memories.

The view from San Martino hill

Arriving at the Belvedere di San Martino means reaching one of the most recognizable points in Vomero, in the upper part of the city. Here, the panorama is more than a simple view: it's a sequence of levels that allows you to see Naples from the hill, looking out over the historic center, the port, the profile of Vesuvius, and the sweep of the Gulf. On clear days, the gaze can sweep toward the Sorrento Peninsula and the islands, while closer by, the Certosa and the San Martino complex, Castel Sant'Elmo, the churches, and the dense network of palazzi emerge.

The viewpoint invites you to pause. The stone, the railings, the breeze rising from the sea, and the faint sounds of the city create a time distinct from that of the streets below. It's in this pause that the babà finds its place: a dessert small only in size, capable of retaining much of the Neapolitan character in its elastic consistency and the intense aroma of the syrup.

Its history doesn't originate in Naples, but here the babà has been embraced, transformed, and recognized as part of the local pastry tradition. The leavened dough, rich in eggs and butter, absorbs an aromatic syrup until it becomes soft without losing its structure. The rum adds a warm, lingering note; the citrus zest, meanwhile, brings the dessert back to Mediterranean aromas. This is also why the babà fits so well with the landscape: it has a soft, moist base, but a clear identity, like Naples seen from above.

The babà between leavening and syrup

Making it at home requires attention, especially in two areas: the leavening and the absorption of the syrup. For about eight individual babàs, you'll need:

• 250 g of strong flour, suitable for long leavening;
• 3 medium eggs;
• 50 g of soft butter;
• 25 g of sugar;
• 10 g of fresh brewer's yeast;
• a pinch of salt;
• for the syrup, 500 ml of water, 250 g of sugar, the zest of half a lemon and the zest of half an orange;
• 100-120 ml of rum, to be measured according to taste.

Start by dissolving the yeast in a little warm water, using the amount needed for the dough. In a bowl, mix the flour with the sugar and eggs, adding them little by little. When the dough begins to become smooth, gradually add the softened butter and finally the salt. The dough should be very elastic, sticky, and shiny: don't add more flour, as its fluidity is essential for achieving the characteristic spongy crumb.

Cover the bowl and let it rise in a warm place until doubled in size. Then, divide the dough into the greased molds, filling them just over halfway. A second rise brings the dough close to the rim. Bake in a preheated oven at about 180°C (350°F) for 20-25 minutes, checking that the surface is golden brown and the center is dry. After a few minutes, unmold the babas and let them cool.

To make the syrup, bring the water, sugar, and zest to a boil, then turn off the heat and let it cool. Add the rum when the syrup is no longer boiling, so the aroma remains distinct. The cold babas are dipped into the warm syrup one at a time, or basted several times, allowing the liquid to penetrate. They're ready when they're heavy, shiny, and soft to the touch, but not mushy. Before serving, let them rest for a few hours in the refrigerator or a cool place: the consistency will settle and the aroma will become more balanced.

A sweet break overlooking the Gulf

The babà doesn't need elaborate decorations to accompany the Belvedere di San Martino. It can be served plain, with just the syrup, evenly distributed, or with a little unsweetened cream, which mitigates the alcohol without overpowering the flavor. Even a sprinkle of candied orange peel, used sparingly, brings out the citrusy flavor of the syrup.

The tasting finds its rhythm in the panorama: first the shiny, porous surface, then the scent of rum and citrus, finally the softness that slowly melts. All around, Naples displays its maze of buildings, hills, bell towers, and the sea. From the viewpoint, the dessert becomes not an abstract symbol, but a tangible presence, linked to the city's pastry-making tradition and the way the city has embraced a preparation that came from afar.

As the light descends on the Gulf and Vesuvius fades into the background, San Martino reveals a quieter Naples, nestled in the distance. The babà, with its soaked crumb and warm aroma, concludes the walk without separating us from the place: a small landscape remains to be savored, while below the hill the city continues to bustle.