Archive for May, 2013

Muggia's Palazzo dei RettoriEarly the next morning, Mike and I took a boat to Muggia, located just south of Trieste near the Slovenian border. My previous visits to Muggia had been in February, and with an overcast sky both times, conditions were less than ideal to take photos of Muggia’s distinctive trilobed Duomo. In fact, on my second visit, I had made a special trip from Udine just to see Muggia’s Carnevale parade, but to my dismay, the parade was cancelled due to rain. Today was a brilliant, sunny day, but unfortunately at 9:00 in the morning, the sun was in the wrong place. With the light shining from the east, the Duomo was backlit and would make for a white, overexposed sky. Mike and I hung around a full 15 minutes before catching the next bus back to Trieste.

Trieste's Castello di San GiustoDeciding to explore the city’s old section, we climbed the Scala dei Giganti (Giants’ Stairway) to Castello di San Giusto. Much of the castle was closed off due to construction, and we ended up circling the hill several times before finding a way through. Once at the top, we were able to visit the Cattedrale di San Giusto, as well as the nearby churches Santa Maria Maggiore and San Silvestro.

We descended the hill on the opposite side, past the ruins of the Roman amphitheater. Then, we wandered through Piazza dell’Unità d’Italia and along the Canal Grande, stopping at a few bookstores along the way, so that I could browse their local cookbook collections.

Trieste's Palazzo del GovernoFor lunch, I had selected an old-style buffet from my guidebook, but it happened to be closed that day. I was determined to continue pursuing my goulasch quandary, so we settled on the next restaurant we found that listed goulasch on their menu—Birreria Forst. With an atmosphere something like a cross between a beer hall and a diner, it was comfortable enough, although lacking the charm of many smaller establishments. I did order the goulasch (although, once again, there were no tomatoes in the sauce), which was served with patate in tecia. In typical American style, Mike ordered “toast”—a grilled ham and cheese sandwich with French fries.

Castello di MiramareAfter lunch, we returned to Castello di Miramare in hopes of finally getting my “blue sky” shots. We arrived by bus this time but found that the castle’s entrance up the hill from the Grignano harbor was closed. Massive wrought-iron gates were locked with a heavy chain; there was no getting through. The only option was to walk back down to the harbor, then back up along the highway to look for one of the castle’s other two entrances. Fortunately, we succeeded in finding the second entrance, and I was thrilled to finally get some gorgeous images of Miramare. The views from the castle’s balcony promenade were especially breathtaking! We spent the rest of the afternoon strolling through the park’s 54 acres—a network of paths winding around manicured gardens and peaceful lakes.

We exited the park through the same gate we had entered, hoping that there would be a bus stop nearby. The problem was that we didn’t know if the closest stop was behind us or ahead of us, so we took a gamble and headed along the highway toward Trieste. This turned out to be the wrong choice, for we walked all the way to Barcola before coming across a bus stop. And of course, by the time we got there, we had just missed the bus by a few seconds! So, we found a bench along the promenade, facing the sea and with Trieste not far to our left. Despite the hot afternoon sun beating down, we were content—myself especially, since I had finally succeeded in getting my photos of Miramare. Eventually, I would return to Muggia, too—at the proper time of day for photos.

Back in Trieste, we opted for a late afternoon snack of gelato at Gelateria Zampolli. I ordered yogurt, fragola (strawberry), and mela verde (green apple)—although my Italian was obviously not clear, for I received only two flavors, apple and “strawberry yogurt.” Mike had a cup with baci, nutella, and dulce de leche.

It was our final night in Trieste, and we wanted our last dinner there to be extra special. As usual, I was armed with a list of restaurants from my guidebook, but some had apparently closed and a few others appeared to be generic Italian (or what has been dubbed “national” cuisine, as opposed to the more distinctive regional cuisine). Ultimately, we settled on Ristorante Al Cantuccio, which was across the street from Ristorante Al Bagatto (where we had dined on the night of our arrival). It was another elegant (and expensive) splurge! I ordered the spaghetti al pesto con sgombro (pasta with pesto and mackerel), and Mike started with tagliatelle with shrimp in a balsamic sauce. My second course was filletto di rombo (turbot fillet) with sage and potatoes, while Mike had calamari with thyme, balsamic vinegar, and potatoes.

wineOn this trip, we had gotten in the habit of ordering a mezzo litro (half liter) of house wine with our meals. At Ristorante Al Cantuccio, however, wine was only available by the bottle, so we requested some Vitovska, a white wine from the Carso area around Trieste.

I must digress for a moment now to reminisce about my very first trip to Italy, when I found myself in a similar situation. I was 22 years old and traveling with my mom. We were having lunch at a seafood restaurant in Portovenere, when the waiter brought us a full bottle of wine instead of the requested quarter liter. This was before I had studied any Italian, so neither of us comprehended the waiter’s instructions. Looking back, I believe he was telling us to drink only as much as we wanted and that would be the amount he’d charge us for; however, all we understood was “bevi, bevi,” so that we did—we drank the entire bottle! The same thing happened more recently at my lunch at Arta Terme’s Ristorante Salon, but luckily my Italian had much improved by then. The waiter, Matteo, brought the bottle, I drank a glass, and that was the amount that appeared on my check.

Back to our dinner at Al Cantuccio: we had finished our meal, having enjoyed a glass of wine each. When the check came, we were surprised to see the charge for the entire bottle. I considered arguing the point, but given that my Italian was still far from fluent—and the fact that a bottle was truly a bargain at only 10 euros—I chose instead to finish the bottle myself. So, as Mike was paying the check, I hastily chugged down the last couple glasses, feeling slightly naughty as I did so. It was a fun and tipsy stroll back to our hotel!

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Flavors of FriuliVisit BookGoodies.com to read my recent interview and try my recipe for Gnocchi di Zucca.

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Lignano SabbiadoroCheck out my new travel “Highlights” on Afar.com: a mountaintop malga and a beach of golden sand.

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Castiglioncello beachFor all of you travel writers out there, here are some links I’ve collected to the submission guidelines for various online publications. A few pay, although most do not; nevertheless, they are all great places to increase your online presence, whether you are an aspiring travel writer or an author looking to promote a new book. Best of luck!




Boots N All

Connecting Solo Travel Network


Go World Travel

International Living

In The Know Traveler

inTravel Magazine

Matador Network

Perceptive Travel


Road Junky Travel

Tango Diva

Transitions Abroad

Verge Magazine

Women Travel Blog

World Hum

21st Century Adventures

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Castello di DuinoAfter a couple slices of putizza—a spiral cake filled with chocolate, dried fruit, and nuts that we had purchased at Pasticceria Penso the day before—Mike and I headed out to Piazza Oberdan to catch bus #44 to Duino. The ride took about 50 minutes; we had contemplated getting off at Sistiana (the town just before Duino) in order to walk along the Rilke Path to Castello di Duino, but since we didn’t spot the road signs for Sistiana until it was too late, we went ahead and visited the castle first.

Dating back to the early 15th century, Castello di Duino is best known as the home of the royal Thurn und Taxis family during the 19th century. Today, it houses a museum full of princely memorabilia, including a piano once played by Liszt and a massive dollhouse that belonged to Princess Eugénie of Greece and Denmark. Although the yellow-walled castle is not nearly as striking as Castello di Miramare, the two do share some similarities. Both are perched on a cliff overlooking the sparkling sea and surrounded by lush, manicured gardens. While Miramare’s gardens are much more expansive, Duino’s network of pathways, lined with cypress trees and statues, is ideal for a romantic stroll.

Rilke PathAfter touring the castle, we walked down to the harbor to Ristorante Alla Dama Bianca for lunch. The sunny weather was perfect for sitting at an outdoor table overlooking the water. First, we shared an appetizer of frutti di mare gratinati (scallops, razor clams, and mussels baked with a bread crumb topping). Next, I had ravioli filled with shrimp and tossed with melted butter and poppy seeds, while Mike had orecchiette with shrimp and tomato sauce.

After lunch, we made our way back up to the castle and found the entrance to the Sentiero Rilke. The path was named after the poet Rainer Maria Rilke, who was a frequent guest of Princess Maria von Thurn und Taxis. It is said that Rilke penned the beginning to his famous Duino Elegies while wandering along the sea cliffs near the castle on a dark and stormy day.

SistianaBeginning at Castello di Duino, the path hugged the meandering coastline all the way to Sistiana. Shady pine forests alternated with breathtaking vistas—of evergreen shrubs clinging to the rock face and precipitous, white limestone cliffs plunging into the sea, all set against a pristine backdrop of sea and sky. The trail finally emerged upon a sapphire blue bay dotted with sailboats. As the access to the path was hidden in the trees behind a campground there, it is perhaps fortunate that we missed Sistiana on our way that morning, for we may never have found the entrance.

Back in Trieste for dinner, we stumbled upon what has become one of my favorite restaurants in the region—Ristorante La Tecia. Partly it is their creative take on regional cuisine and their rotating menu of local dishes, but even more so I have come to appreciate the casual and welcoming atmosphere. It was a spot I returned to many times on future trips, always feeling comfortable dining alone—and even once accompanied by my four-year-old son.

On this particular evening, we were seated at an outside table in the middle of Via San Nicolò. I started with the salame all’aceto balsamico (slices of salami cooked in vinegar and onions and served with polenta), while Mike had the orzotto (barley cooked “risotto-style”) with artichokes and smoked ricotta cheese. Next, I had a rollata di crespelle (crêpes rolled up jellyroll-style with nettles, ricotta, and bread crumbs), and Mike finished with bocconcini di struzzo (cubes of ostrich—yes, ostrich yet again) with a sauce of gin and tarragon. We also shared a plate of verdure in tecia (sautéed vegetables) that has given the restaurant its name—a tecia is a cast iron skillet. At La Tecia, the assortment of vegetables varies with the season; this evening it included peas, red bell peppers, zucchini, cabbage, and potatoes.

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obelisk at Villa OpicinaBy the next morning, the sun had returned, although there was a bit of a chill in the air. We began the day with more pastries at Pasticceria Penso: a slice of apple strudel and a “domino,” the latter being a bite-sized rectangle of cake layered with rich chocolate buttercream, covered with bittersweet ganache, and whimsically decorated with white frosting dots.

From Piazza Oberdan, we took the tram uphill to the town of Villa Opicina, marked by a monumental obelisk that was erected in 1830 to celebrate a new road between Austria and Trieste. The pedestrian path Via Napoleonica stretches westward about two miles from the obelisk to the village of Prosecco. Although we turned back before reaching Prosecco, we had plenty of opportunities to admire the stunning, panoramic view of the sea.

Returning to Opicina for lunch, we stopped at Ristorante Diana, one of several restaurants along the highway that specializes in cuisine from Trieste and the Carso. They were fully booked but agreed to serve us if we could eat our meal in the next 75 minutes. I ordered pasticcio di crespelle con carciofi e funghi (a lasagna of sorts, with layers of crêpes, artichokes, and mushrooms) and the capriolo in salmì (stewed venison). Mike had a plate of prosciutto di struzzo e cinghiale (cured ostrich and wild boar) and the stinco di vitello (braised veal shank). As a side dish, we shared a dish of carciofi gratinati (artichokes baked with a breadcrumb topping).

Grotta GiganteAfter lunch, our plan was to take bus #42 to the Grotta Gigante, but as happens so often when traveling, we just missed it. As we waited for the next bus to come along, we enjoyed some refreshing cones from the gelateria across the street (me: cioccolato, stracciatella, and yogurt; Mike: pistachio, panna cotta, and amarena).

When we finally arrived at Grotta Gigante—the world’s largest tourist cave at 351 feet high, 213 feet wide, and 918 feet long—we joined a dozen other people for a guided tour. Upon entering, a narrow tunnel opened into the enormous cavern, which is large enough to fit Saint Peter’s Basilica. The echo of dripping water filled the silence, and we were immediately struck by the chilly dampness. Five hundred steps descended past walls covered with curtains of stalactites in shades of white, orange, and brown. The cave’s stalagmites were tall and slender, with flat tops, the calcite concretions resembling stacks of dishes due to the height from which the water drips. What goes down must come back up again, and although the five-hundred-step return to the surface was quite strenuous, it provided a suitable excuse for my recent gastronomic indulgences!

Back in Trieste for dinner, we found a casual trattoria near the city’s old center, Trattoria La Piazzetta. I had goulasch served with potato gnocchi and a side of patate in tecia. This was the meal that clarified for me how those potatoes were prepared: slightly mashed but still chunky and cooked with beef broth, onions, and bits of pork. The goulasch obviously did not contain tomatoes and therefore perpetuated my lingering dilemma about that dish. Mike ordered seafood linguini and veal scallopini in white wine sauce—happily oblivious to the minutiae of cookbook research that was plaguing me on a daily basis.

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crostataCheck out my new travel “Highlights” on Afar.com: Europe’s largest seafront square and a festival of wild berries.

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