One stand sells more than ten types of olives, a local variety of pickle, five or six kinds of preserved mushrooms, buckets of capers, sun-dried tomatoes, and hot peppers. The next is devoted to the barattiere (a cucumber-melon hybrid native to the region that has the crunch of the former and a flavor that is similar to but more delicate than the latter). Crates of peaches, their leaves still attached, are stacked next to plums, fragrant lemons, yellow melons, beets, and plump white-and-purple eggplants (the last selling for thirty cents a pound). Bushels of cherry tomatoes and turnip tops are staples at every vegetable vendor. A pickup truck’s flatbed sags under the weight of huge watermelons. An old lady watches over sacks of grain, rice, and saffron, while her neighbor, a nattily dressed farmer with his hat at a rakish tilt, has only one ware: organic brown eggs. The most popular concession is in a refrigerated truck, where a long line of people queue for capocollo (a local pork salami) and huge rounds of cacio ricotta.

I get a sense of just how complicated Puglia’s history is when I arrive in Lecce, the entry point to the southern Salentine Peninsula. In the fifteenth century, Lecce (which grew into a city under the Romans) became a Bourbon stronghold and the base for a number of Spanish and feudal revolts, all brutally repressed; this was also the period when the city’s most striking architecture was completed.

In the nineteenth century, Lecce was dubbed the Florence of the South, a title that seems apt given its particular beauty. While I don’t consider myself a Baroque fan, Lecce’s dilapidation somehow makes the over-the-top style less formal and tones down the flourishes, to great effect. The lack of crowds keeps the place peaceful, but it still feels lived in, and as with many of these Pugliese towns, there are always unexpected and often unexplained deviations from the norm: a duomo not centered, for example, with an unusually high campanile and only one entrance into the piazza. In the evening, I make my way to Casareccia, a restaurant and Lecce institution in a storefront on a nondescript street outside the city center, which exemplifies why Puglia is so refreshing. It’s Friday night, and the place is packed with locals. There is no menu, no wine list, just a few courses prepared by the husband-and-wife team who run the show. The antipasti of roasted beets, baby potato salad, and roasted peppers encrusted with cheese, and the lightly battered capers, tomatoes, and olives are all commendably simple and utterly unforgettable.

“Let me bring you another starter, and after we’ll talk of after and after,” says Anna Maria Perrone, in Italian, who is wife, main chef, and waiter all in one. Shortly, she returns with a bowl of fava puree with strands of chicory in the middle. “It’s the oldest dish in Puglia.” I look at it with interest but don’t have the foggiest idea how to eat it. She giggles and takes my fork to wind the strings of chicory like spaghetti, using the puree as the sauce. She pops a forkful into my mouth before wandering back to her small kitchen.

I continue the drive south from Lecce, heading to the southernmost cape of the peninsula, where the Adriatic and Ionian seas meet. The beaches are even more striking than farther north, stretches of crisp white sand and turquoise water with sailboats drifting lazily in the coves. Norman castles mingle with Byzantine churches perched over the water, Art Deco villas nestle into the rock, surrounded by cool pines and deserted, crumbling farmhouses. Among the small ports, Otranto has become a popular resort, with every rock and stretch of pier taken over by sunning Italian bodies.
But the city’s main attractions are empty of visitors. Particularly striking is the eleventh-century cathedral’s floor, a massive mosaic of the tree of life that is a breathtaking visual encyclopedia of the cluttered medieval mind—from Adam and Eve through the adventures of Alexander the Great and the legend of King Arthur. The depictions, almost childlike in their simplicity, are incredibly expressive of a time when biblical, pagan, and mythological lore were indivisible.

When I first pull up at Il Convento di Santa Maria di Constanopoli, a bed-and-breakfast on the outskirts of the tiny fishing village of Marittima where I have booked two nights, I am not sure if this is the right place. There is no sign, and from the exterior no sign of life either. But I knock on a small door that looks promising and, when there is no answer, make my way around to the other side. Just then, a cheery voice calls from the top window, “Hello, I’ll be right down,” and a few minutes later an attractive brunette (who turns out to be one of the owners) leads me into a cloister decorated with piles of Moroccan cushions, with African walking sticks leaning against the red walls.

Il Convento, built in the fifteenth century to house the relics of one of the sackings of Constantinople (and until recently the storage area for the adjacent church), is now a nine-room upscale B&B, though describing it as such doesn’t do it justice. The exquisitely restored property is the latest project of Alistair McAlpine (a protégé of Margaret Thatcher’s and the former head of the British Conservative party) and his wife, Athena. It is piled with African, Indian, and Aboriginal art and artifacts—in addition to a book collection so large that a separate library is being constructed. Antique Indian posters and bedouin photographs decorate the walls of my room. Textiles on the beds and sofas come from Morocco, Indonesia, China, and Afghanistan. Thick linen sheets are ironed off the bed and then again once they’re on, a process that makes them the perfect mix of crisp and soft. At night, the smaller outdoor courtyard is lit by candles, and wine comes in unlimited quantities at no extra cost.

The best way to experience the region’s cultural and architectural diversity is by car. The roads are often confusing and the signs disorienting, but don’t fight it. Throw away your maps and get lost in Puglia’s charming, well-preserved towns. May, June, and September are the region’s most beautiful months; in late July and all of August, Italian tourists take over.

Lodging
With the advent of a new generation of hotels, it’s now easy to find good places to stay in Puglia. In Savelletri di Fasanois, the Masseria San Domenico has an 18-hole golf course, a spa, and a huge saltwater pool. The rooms are comfortable if not stylish (080-482-7769; imasseria.com; doubles, $478–$562). Nearby, the low-key, 37-room Masseria Torre Coccaro has a spa in its grotto, a terrific cooking school, and a chic beach club five minutes away (080-482-9310; doubles, $358–$450).

Near the town of Monopoli, Il Melograno was the pioneer of the masserias, but almost 20 years later it’s in need of a face-lift. Better to book into the beach annex, La Peschiera, a converted 17th-century Bourbon fishery that has 11 rooms with sea views and a good, if pricey, restaurant (080-690-9030; doubles, $562–$657; three-course prix fixe, $72).

Several new properties combine traditional structures with modern interiors. In the heart of Ostuni, Milan’s Culti family has transformed a 15th-century olive press into La Sommità Relais, a small hotel. Everything from the sheets to the tableware is designed by the family’s firm, and the views from the public areas and spa are extraordinary (0831-305-925; lasommita.it; doubles, $260–$360). A less expensive option near Ostuni, the Borgo San Marco gracefully combines a masseria with a working farm. Owner Alessandro Amati has painstakingly restored the 15th-century structure, creating a 14-room hotel that’s Pugliese with a bohemian edge. One of the rock churches, formerly a 10th-century farmhouse, has a beautiful fresco (080-439-5757; doubles, $180). A short drive away, Il Frantoio feels more like traditional agriturismo: no air-conditioning and basic rooms, but the dinners are exceptional and the owners provide an authentic experience (0831-330-276; trecolline.it; doubles, $210; prix fixe, $60).

Over the last couple of years, foreigners have been snapping up the traditional trulli farmhouses and restoring them. For the experience of sleeping in one of the domed dwellings, book a room at Abate Masseria & Resort, near Alberobello, a village that has been designated a UNESCO World Heritage Site. The spacious whitewashed-stone rooms have mod cons, there’s a great restaurant, and the price is excellent (080-497-8288; doubles, $80–$220; entrées, $5–$28).

In Lecce, the Patria Palace is perfectly situated for exploring the Baroque city’s many attractions. Ask for a room with a terrace overlooking the Santa Croce Basilica (0832-245-111; starwood.com; doubles, $215–$290). Forty minutes south, near the small village of Marittima di Diso, the eight-room Convento di Santa Maria di Costantinopoli is a cloistered enclave where the rates include laundry service, lunch, and unlimited drinks (44-773-636-2328, in the United Kingdom; doubles, $300). If you stay there, hire a little motorboat from Durlindana Noleggio and drift slowly along the Salentine coast (0836-943-916; half-day, $95).

Among rental villas, the standout is the Casino Pisanelli, near Santa Maria di Leuca. This converted 18th-century hunting lodge sleeps 16.

Dining
The most authentic dishes tend to be found in the more humble dining rooms, but at Ostuni’s Osteria Piazzetta Cattedrale, you’ll find atmosphere, excellent food, and a well-edited wine list. Try the burrata cheese with figs and prosciutto, the baked cannelloni with zucchini flowers and ricotta, and the warm hazelnut cake (7 Via Arcidiacono Trinchera; 0831-335-026; entrées, $7–$18). In Martina Franca, Ritrovo degli Amici has a small, elegant dining room, a romantic candlelit courtyard, and a menu of extremely well-rendered Pugliese dishes (8 Corso Messapia; 080-483-9249; entrées, $11–$18).

Two restaurants in Minervino Murge, near Castel del Monte, do traditional country food very well. La Tradizione has flavorful plates of tunacedde snails (11/13 Via Imbriani; 0883-691-690; entrées, $4–$7), and Ristorante Pizzeria l’Antico Palazzo serves antipasti that are baked in terra-cotta dishes and are meals in themselves (Corso de 24 Gasperi; 0883-692-622; entrées, $6–$11).

The Torrente Antico, in Trani, is known for its seafood (3 Via Fusco; 0883-487-911; entrées, $7–$18). In Alberobello, foodies flock to Il Poeta Contadino, where the food is good and the wine cellar famous (21 Via Indipendenza; 0804-321-917; entrées, $18–$24). In Polignano a Mare, a village built into the cliffs above the sea, Donna Gina has spectacular views though less than spectacular food (7-9 Via Cala Porto; 080-424-0914; entrées, $7–$36). Chichibio, on the other hand, has a superb kitchen but faces a piazza cum parking lot (12 Largo Gelso; 080-424-0488; entrées, $10–$22). Polignano a Mare is famous for its ice cream. Try the caffè nocciola (hazelnut coffee) flavor at Il Super Mago del Gelo (22 Piazza Garibaldi).