Week Two of CNN’s Searching for Italy, hosted by the ambulatory actor Stanley Tucci, took us to Sardegna (aka Sardinia), the large island off Italy’s coast frequently described with adjectives like rugged, mountainous, and implacable. Or as, Tucci’s voiceover explains, “an island of bits and pieces in the best possible way, a region with a ferocious independent streak.”

Some of the headings for this episode’s segments reflected this attitude: “Hard Cheese,” “Bitter Honey,” and “Big Fish.”  But it was clear that the caption for the very first segment interested Tucci the most: “The Melting Pot.”

As readers know, I consider Tucci a fine actor and appreciate his sense of italianità; however, I’ve also found fault with this series’ odd obsession with multi-culturalism, as if Italy, or the Italian people, weren’t worthy enough to be appreciated. One quick example: Although Tucci praises the independence of Sardinian women, in particular chef Antoinetta Salaris and her Catalan (Spanish) roots, he doesn’t mention Sardinian native Grazia Deledda, who won the Nobel Prize for literature in 1926 for her vivid stories about her birthplace. A sample of her writings, even in voiceover, would have been nice.

Another theme of the show, cucina povera, turned up again, particularly in a segment where Tucci hung around with some Sardinian shepherds in Mount Corrasi. These common folk, especially his guide, Antonio Putzu, were actually quite amiable and welcoming, rather undercutting the notion that Sardinians are a rough-hewn people. Indeed, although he started the show with a visit to the vibrant capital city of Cagliari (pronounced Cahl-yah-ree), Tucci soon got into a car and drove into the interior of the island, showcasing his two favorite subjects: peasants and pock-marked landscapes. The idea that the soul of a people can only be found amongst their downtrodden is straight out of John Steinbeck, and just as condescending. (“The Sheeps of Wrath”?)

That said, the urbane Tucci’s interactions with the burly shepherds were the highlight of the show. He attempted to milk an ewe, with limited success; you could practically hear him moan, “Eww!” Then he watched the locals make a local dish featuring sheep’s blood and offal, which initially put him off, though he later ate it and liked it. (Recall the “Rome” episode dedicated to offal.) This was followed by a fascinating display of genuine Sardinian culture: Cantu’ e tenore, a form of polyphonic throat-singing indigenous to the area. Sung in groups of four, and almost always by men (as it requires deep vocal cords), this Sardinian version of a barbershop quartet is spell-binding. And, if you listen close enough, you can hear vocal echoes of the sheep who inhabit the island.

Did I mention that Sardegna was an island? Like Sicily, Venice and Calabria, it is a fish-lover’s paradise.

Tucci’s segment in Cagliari featured the city’s famous Bottarga fish, still preserved in a 3,000 year old method introduced by the Phoenicians. He also visited Fradis Minoris, which served him fregola ai frutti di mare, a seafood dish with a similar North African inspired twist. Then it was into a car and off to the countryside, where, seeking a bit of sweetness, he met Luigi Manias, a beekeeper whose family has been producing honey since 1631.

More fish dishes arrived when Tucci arrived at San Pietro, a smaller island off the Sardinian coast. The inhabitants of San Pietro were originally from Liguria, whose main city is Genoa. These ancestors of Cristoforo Colombo’s birth city took Tucci on a tuna-fish hunt, similar to those in Sicily, where deep, protracted nets pulled in some of the best tuna in the world. And when his host, chef Luigi Pomata, cooked some of that tuna later in the day, he added — of course – -that famous Ligurian staple: pesto.

Tucci’s concern for the distaff side led him to the aforementioned Ms. Salaris, who owns a restaurant in the city of Alghero, where many of its original descendants were from Barcelona, hence the city’s nickname (Little Barcelona – the Spanish city originally founded by the Romans, a fact not mentioned). The lively Salaris showed him to properly cook, and then eat, the island’s noteworthy lobsters. Tucci then visited the village of Barrista, where another lively woman, cooking instructor Simonetta Bazzu, accompanied by two young female assistants, demonstrated the art of making pane carasau, a flat bread that, when put into a wood-fired oven, quickly fills up like a bicycle tire. When Ms. Bazzu accidentally dropped her sample on the floor, she laughed and told her helpers to put it away, not throw it away, as “we don’t throw things away here.” In Sardegna, as in the rest of Italy, nothing goes to waste.

The show did end on a visual grace note: Kudos to whomever it was on Tucci’s staff who came up with the idea of synchronizing off-screen Sardinian throat-singing with a shot of quickly inflating bread. You felt as if the breath of the invisible singers were literally bringing it to life. Magic realism!

Speaking of which, those seeking more of that can find it in three great movies about Sardegna. Two of them are Italian: 1960’s Banditi di Orgosolo by Vittoria De SETA (not De Sica), and 1977’s Padre, Padrone by the Taviani Brothers. The other is an American film: 1979’s The Black Stallion, one of the greatest children’s movies – indeed, one of the best American movies, period – ever made. Indeed, Stallion uses the raw beauty of Sardegna as a central character in the first half of the film, featuring landscapes that leave you breathless. (Note: You can’t appreciate this film on a small screen. Don’t try.)

Final note: Tucci couldn’t resist a mafia joke, even during a show about another island. His next stop is Puglia. Will he pull out a similar boner about the Sacra Corona Unita, that region’s local criminal gang? A pox on whomever it is on Tucci’s staff who keeps thinking that these jokes are amusing.

If I may retaliate with a sheep’s pun: BAAA-humbug! -BDC