SARDINIA IN THE winter is a lot like San Francisco. Perched in the mild blue sea off the southwestern coast of Italy, the island in January is cool and cloud-streaked, the rocky hills turned Marin-green from weeks of wet weather. The rain-pocked beaches are empty, summer's sunbathing hordes far away. On clear days the sunsets are heartbreaking, the waves washed silver and apricot under the sinking sun.

History on Sardinia goes far back – through the Phoenicians, the Romans, and even deeper, back to the Nuraghic peoples, whose chunky, spiral-shaped stone houses and long grave mounds still dot the landscape. In the summertime the Costa Esmeralda (the Emerald Coast) is jammed with glammed-out Italians and Europeans sunning in seaside villas. But in the off-season the island subsides into its own secret self. Sheep bells clank on the thyme-scented hills, lemon and orange trees lean over fences, their fruit dangling like Christmas ornaments amid shiny green leaves. On a clear, cold morning, wandering through the ruins of an old Roman settlement along the squared stone lines of a bathhouse and aqueduct, we spied a man waist-deep in the Mediterranean, holding a bucket and a stick. Whatever he was fishing for, it wasn't running away. Clams? Oysters? Mussels? As we walked past the shack where two pretty and bored young women had sold us film and tickets to the ruins, we saw the man again. The girls were gathered around a picnic table, looking into his bucket, which was filled with greenish-black, spine-waving sea urchins. "Tutti per noi!" one girl happily exclaimed. All for us! A midmorning holiday snack of sea urchin, scooped from the sea.

We didn't have any sea urchin on that trip, but we did have plenty of squid and branzino, grilled whole and served simply with olive oil and lemon. And most surprisingly, we had seitan, and soy-milk cappuccinos and whole-grain cookies. Most travelers claim that as European countries go, Italy is great for vegetarians. However, up in the north, in the fat, fertile Po Valley – the land of Parmesan cheese and enormous mortadella sausages, prosciutto di Parma and lardo di Colonna – ham is the basis of nearly everything. Or, if not ham, then pancetta, the rolled Italian bacon that is mostly fat (and flavor), with just a little spiral of meat for fun. In Bologna, where we lived, the food is some of the richest in Italy, loaded with ham and veal, cheese and cream. The pasta is fresh and eggy, the local sauce an almost dry reduction of pancetta, beef, and pork cooked with tomatoes, wine, and milk. Zampone, the traditional New Year's dish, is a sewn-up, boned pig's trotter packed with a savory meat stuffing that is boiled for hours and served with lentils.

Health food, what there was of it, was the province of the mysterious erboristas, herbal-medicine shops that could be anything from homeopathic pharmacies to New Age tea-and-crystal shops.

But at the Sole e Terra farm where we stayed in Sardinia, the basement storeroom looked like Rainbow Grocery: bags of whole-wheat flour and dried chestnuts, boxes of tetra-packed tofu and seitan, amber jars of almond butter, barley malt, and maple syrup. Maddalena, who runs the property with her husband, Franco, is a firm believer in the physical and spiritual benefits of a mostly vegan diet (eggs from the farm's wandering hens are included). On our last night there, we had a feast in the farmhouse kitchen. The centerpiece was a rich, winey stew, full of chestnuts and cubes of seitan that had taken on a deep, ruby red color. It's a great vegan party dish, very festive for winter. Serve it with polenta or a nutty pilaf – brown rice mixed with wild rice, kasha, or farro, sautéed briefly with onion and sage, doused with vegetable, mushroom, or chicken stock, and simmered slowly until tender to the bite.

Look for dried chestnuts in Italian grocery stores, or buy whole cooked, peeled chestnuts in a jar. (Or, if you have a good chunk of time on your hands, you can boil whole fresh chestnuts until tender and peel them yourself.) To reconstitute dried chestnuts, put them in a pot and cover with water, bring them to a simmer, remove from heat, then let sit overnight. In the morning, drain, cover with fresh, well-salted water, and simmer until tender (usually an hour or so).

Sole e Terra's seitan with red wine and chestnuts

2-3 Tbs olive oil
1 onion, diced
1 carrot, diced
1 celery stalk, diced
8 oz seitan, cubed
2 cups red wine
1 sprig each of parsley, sage, and thyme, for bouquet garni
1 bay leaf
1/2 tsp salt, or to taste
1/2 oz (or to taste) dried porcini mushrooms, rinsed lightly and chopped into small pieces
1 cup dried chestnuts or 2 cups whole cooked, peeled chestnuts

Warm olive oil in a deep sauté pan. Add onion, carrot, and celery and sauté, stirring, over low heat for 10 minutes, until very soft but not browned. Add seitan cubes, red wine, salt, bouquet garni, and dried mushrooms. Bring to a boil, reduce heat, cover, and simmer for 20 minutes. Add chestnuts (if using) and simmer covered for an additional 20 minutes. Uncover and simmer for 5-10 minutes, until sauce has reduced a bit. Add salt and freshly ground pepper to taste.

For more information on Sole e Terra, go to www.agriturismosoleeterra.it