Italy Day 2 - Lake Hopping

Italy Day 2 – Lake Hopping

Continental breakfast at the Nest is very continental indeed, sitting on the balcony with couples from Germany and Canada. We drive back into Bellagio, buy a Mid Lake Pass and hop on the ferry to Varenna. 

Founded in 769AD, Varenna is an incredibly steep, tight little town anchored to the rocky hillside just north of Bellagio 15 minutes by water aboard the hilariously named ferry Spluga.  (I’d be hours car – you’d have to drive all the way back to Como and up the other side of the Y).  Varenna laid back and charming, far less commercialized then Bellagio.  From the water, all the buildings appear to be one singular tiered structure, but on foot you realize each tier is separated by a narrow alleyway horizontally and dizzying riverstone staircases vertically.  The stairs and alleys form the streets of the old town, doors randomly being a shop, business or small home.  The area is known for its exquisite leather goods and we can’t resist a few brightly colored bags for Mandy and belts for me.  Lunch at Nilus Bar overlooking the lake consists of Caprese salad and simple pizza with garlic, both simple dishes executed wonderfully.

Back onto the ferry and 15 minutes across the lake.  From the water all the villages and towns up and down the lake look homogeneous, with brightly colored, tile roofed structures set into the hillside.  Menaggio is the fourth of the lake towns we have visited and we marvel at how different each one is from the next.  Menaggio has the kinetic vibe of Monaco with the matching upscale clientele.  It’s been a long day punctuated by several Aperol Spritzes, so time to head back (with a quick lemon gelato for the road.)  The road back is as death defying as ever and this time Mandy opened her eyes to video.  How is this already seeming normal?

Back at the Nest, we watch the sunset over the mountains that formed the lake, complete with a yacht bisecting the picture perfect reflection.  Dinner nearby at Crotto dei Pescatori, where our waiter mistakenly serves us a bottle of local white wine instead of the red we ordered.  I roll with it and taste the sample offered.  We are typically not white wine drinkers, but this 2016 Ca’Brione Nino Negri is a spectacular white, dry, crisp, complex and fruity.  It’s paired perfectly with our caponata app and next presentation of fresh lake fish, but even holds its own against my rich osso buco and risotto. 

Italy Day 1 - Nest on the Lake

If you've read this blog before, you know we almost always end up dangling off the edge of some steep mountain somewhere. This trip will not disappoint. But I get ahead of myself...

Pretty much every bucket list has "Trip to Italy" as an entry.  Mandy has never been, and it's been far too long for me.  We fly overnight nonstop from EWR to Milan, and between the luggage and the rental it takes another two hours to get out of the airport.  The Alpha Romeo I booked wasn't ready, but our Audi A3 is quick and nimble on the highway to Lago di Como.

Lake Como is a 56 square mile lake that forms an inverted Y in the center of northern Italy and is perhaps the most beautiful and romantic place on the planet. I've been there before and for years I've been excited to bring Mandy.  The highway ends at the lake a bit north of the town of Como, and we hang a left headed north on the tiny road that skirts the western edge if the lake. Having only eaten airport/airplane food since 4pm the previous day, we stop in in Moltrasio, an picture postcard of a town around 11am.  As you may have heard, the food in Italy is amazing.  Just not at 11am.  At 11am, everything is simply closed until 12:30, when the entire town opens to serve you the bountiful fish from the lake, wine from local vineyards and pasta from God himself.  But it’s not helping us one bit at 11:05. 

We explore the town including the Grand Hotel Imperiale, which, if anything, in not named grandly enough.  Blessedly, 12:30 finally arrives and we are seated first at Ristorante La Veranda, a charming outdoor patio with a nice view.  We start with a local red and the Pumpkin Flowers, similar to squash blossoms, stuffed with an exquisite ricotta and very lightly fried.  We’re ravenous, but the very first bite demands we slow down and savor.  Secondi is a delicate today caught laverello from the lake baked with herbs and a thick tube pasta stuffed with fresh littleneck clams. 

Now mostly adjusted to local pace, we head into the town of Como at the southern tip of the lake.  It’s midday and warm, about 85 in late September, as we explore Piazza Cavour, the historic center of the bustling little city.  My memory didn’t exaggerate.  The huge cathedral dominates the center of the main square, surrounded by sidewalk cafes, vendor stalls and shops.  I seem to remember lots of pigeons, but none to be found today.

The drive to our inn goes up the lake road across from where we had lunch.  Quickly we learn that this is not a drive for the faint of heart.  Jamaican bus drivers think this road is insane.  It’s 1-1/2 cars wide, and winds steeply along the sheer rock mountain walls that tumble into the 1300-foot-deep water below.  And did I mention the bicycles, motorcycles, cars and busses coming at us the other way around the blind corners?  Add exhaustion for even more excitement.

We get to the Nest on the Lake, almost. Lezzeno is has pretty much one road running through it and the Nest is on that road, and we can’t find it.  We pull into a tiny driveway to ask for help, and the elderly woman walks Mandy the two blocks to the front door.  It’s an authentic place in an authentic place, right on, and defined by, the water.  Our innkeeper is charming in that oh-so-Italian way, gets us a drink and chats with us on the balcony.  We ask for a dinner recommendation and he tells us about his family restaurant just up the street.  After a much needed nap, we walk to Stone House, where more local wine precedes more fresh catch, simply and expertly prepared. 

We decide to end the night with a quick drive to Belligio, perhaps the most popular town on the lake and the inspiration for the casino of the same name.  The tiny winding road is even more challenging at night, but we make it there in 10 minutes.  As we drift off to the sounds of the lake lapping outside our window, we know that the gelato was soooooo worth that last drive.

France Day 14 Paris – Full Circle

We wake up early.  Annamarie, the owner of the inn has breakfast ready.  I’m pretty sure she lives on zero sleep.  There’s no way she can get so much done so gracefully otherwise.  We pack, say goodbyes to our host and hit the road.  It’s a long drive back to Paris.  The French highways are great, very good condition, well-marked and efficient.  We still can’t figure out why every rest stop has at least two traffic circles, but we’ve long since accepted the roundabout culture.  The scenery from Buane to Paris is beautiful, mostly agriculture, the vineyards giving way to pastures as we drove. 

We only hit traffic for the last 10 miles or so, and even that still moved.  We decided return the car and spend the last night at a hotel near the Airport.  Turned out to be a good decision for a few reasons.  We check in to the Marriott, dump the bags and head to Avis.  It’s no small feat.  We find a building marked Hertz/Avis on the perimeter of the airport, but it’s not the car return.  Fortunately, one of the service drivers saw our perplexed faces and gave us a “follow me!”  Thank god we did, and it still took another 15 minutes to get to the car return, which was at the top of a corkscrew parking structure. 

We cab it to into Paris.  Probably a mistake not to take the train, as the cab took a full hour in Paris traffic.  It was stressful for us and we weren’t even driving.  On a recommendation, we head to Au Pied de Cochon (thanks Patty!), one of the timeless Parisian restaurants is the 2^nd arrondissement (district).  This is a place that stands on ceremony and tradition, so I’m guessing the menu hasn’t changed much since they opened in 1947.  The first restaurant in Paris to be open 24 hours a day, they specialize in seafood and pork.  The menu ( http://www.pieddecochon.com/en/menus/ ) is exotic to say the least, including dishes like “Crisps of Pig’s Feet and Snails”, “Veal Kidneys Flambeed with Cognac” and “Salad Saint-Antoine” which includes grilled pigs ears, snails, crispy crustaceans, calf eggs and pomegranate over mesclun.  I start with half a dozen oysters, but the wait captain (dressed exactly like what you are thinking) talks me out of The Real AAAAA Duval, convincing me that this traditional tripe sausage is probably too strong for the uninitiated.  He directs me to the sausage special instead.  Mandy, now way past her eating out limit, orders the onion soup (fantastic, even compared to others in France) and cheese board.  It’s cool and rainy so we are sitting inside watching the comings and goings of the staff and patrons.  The three-man business meeting on one side of us order desserts that wouldn’t fit in my suitcase.  The Greek mother and daughter on the other side catch our attention as mom gobbles up the “Temptation of Saint-Antoine Patron des Charcutiers”, which includes tail, ear, muzzle and breaded pig’s foot, all served with a side of Bearnaise.  I didn’t even know cured meats had a patron saint, but now I understand why it needs one.

It’s clearing up, so we decide to walk the neighborhood, see the sights.  At one point Mandy asks “what’s that building there?”  “The Louvre”, I answer, finally getting my bearings.  We decide to go back in.  We are really glad we had a guide on our first visit, as we had some idea of the lay of the land and the collections.  As amazing as this museum is, it’s equally overwhelming. 

We head towards the Latin quarter and Marais, just wandering really.  On again off again rain and we duck under awnings or into doorways when it gets heavy.  We see the iconic green boxes of the booksellers on the sides of the Seine, some trying to keep tradition but most forced to infuse souvenir shop tchotchkes to help revenues.  We cross the river and stumble across Sainte-Chappelle, one of the places we missed on Mandy’s list.  Commissioned by King Louis IX and opened in 1248, this royal chapel was built to house the king’s collection of religious relics including Christ’s Crown of Thorns.  Getting inside is a little odd as it’s now mostly surrounded by the Palais de Justice, the massive courts complex.  It’s worth finding your way in.  The stained glass is unlike any.  Fifteen unbelievably detailed stained glass windows, 50-feet high each, give the feeling that you are being lifted to the heavens.  Pictures cannot do it justice and we’re happy we saw it in person.  

It’s been a long day at the end of a long trip.  Café is in order.  We finish our walk into the Marais section.  We find a street lined on one side with cafes and with shops on the other.  We pick one in the middle, settle into our small table and order our afternoon drinks.  Ahhhhhhh, daydrinking.  We’ve come full circle in 14 head spinning days.  In the morning, we’ll be in the airport, schlepping bags, returning to real life.  But for now, for just one last hour, we’ll just be.  Here.  In Paris.

France Day 13 Beaune – Off Roading in Wine Country, Part Deux

We have breakfast at the Inn.  Mandy cannot get enough of the jams made right here by Annmarie, the owner.  The raspberry explodes with fresh berries, sweet and tangy.  The peach is mellow and sweet and Mandy is delighted every time she finds a big piece of fruit like a Crackerjack prize.  Some goes in our fresh made yogurt.  Some on those big flaky croissants.  Some more to compliment the selection of local cheese.  All with a big pot of strong brewed coffee and we’re some happy campers.  (Can you tell I’m writing this on an empty stomach?)

Across the street and through the wall and it’s time to see more of Beaune.  It’s Thursday. Market day, but the on-again-off-again rain has kept some of the vendors away.  We’re magnetically drawn to the husband and wife team, he selling olives, she the cheese.  We’re encouraged to sample and realize this is gonna be a foodie day.  The big plump olives are in several different preparations, and our favorites are the spicy mix and the garlic Kalamata.  He suggests the tapenades, and when giving me a big scoop of the garlic tapenade, he looks at Mandy and says “no kiss!”  She still cannot believe any self-respecting Frenchman would do anything to discourage kissing.  The generous cheese samples come next.  We pick a two-year and a three-year, one aged sharp and the other aged creamy and salty.  The next vendor has a remarkable selection of charcuterie.  We order 100g (about a quarter pound) of his signature cured hard sausage and some sun-dried tomatoes.  We wander through the shops in town and find the patisserie.  We order the 0.90€ baguette, long and crispy, with a pillowy interior.  Best buck we spent in Europe.  The clerk takes the loaf sets it diagonally on a sheet of waxy paper, grabs two corners and, with a quick twist and a “viola!” (pronounced “wa lah!”) hands us bread perfectly wrapped in a bow.  The French have such a simple way of making everything so… so… French!

We head out to explore more of the Burgundy region, this time south of Beaune.  We head toward Santenay to find Trois Croix.  We explore the villages along the way and when we get close, Mandy puts “Trois Croix” into Google Maps.  We know it’s at the top of the mountain, and the GPS starts us upwards.  Things get very familiar when the pavement ends and the little rocks turn to big rocks.  Although my respect for the little SUV has grown with each adventure, it still loses purchase on the big, course shale.  The tight switchbacks are especially challenging as we lose all momentum in the tight turn, then chunking big stones into the underside of the rental when we accelerate again.  Mandy is having as little fun this time as she had the last time, white knuckling the oh-shit handle.  But the GPS in her left hand keeps directing us up.  We stop when we see the big Charolais in the field beside what’s left of the steep trail.  The big white horned cows are raised for meat, and these four laying and grazing and wondering what the hell our Fiat is doing here.  We take a break and some pictures.  Mandy catches her breath and we decide to head back down, shut the damn GPS off and just follow the French road signs.  Like hiking, downhill, although assisted by gravity, tends to be the tougher half of the trip.  Same tight, rocky turns, same lack of traction, but now if I take one a little wide there’s the added attraction of the 1000 vertical foot drop.  One hand on the wheel, one on the shifter, one trying to keep Mandy’s heart in her chest.  Back on the paved road, we follow the signs (and the pavement) all the way to the parking area at the top of the mountain.  We really shouldn’t overthink these things.

We walk the last steep two hundred yard to Trois Croix.  Three Crosses, 25 feet tall each, overlooking the valley bestowing their blessing and protection.  It’s a dramatic installation and the fast moving clouds make it even more so.  There are a few groups of hikers up here carrying big bright colored packs.  We find a sturdy, table-height half round sign that will be the perfect place for our picnic lunch, offering great views and a flat surface.  As we unpack the olives, bread, cheese and wine, one of the hikers walks by starting his dissent and greets us with a hearty “bon appetit!”  The wind is blowing, the clouds rolling by, the wine is flowing, and the 360 degree views of the vineyards and villages are astounding.  We roughly rip the bread and take turns making new combinations with our gourmet ingredients.  If you’ve ever had the “best meal ever” discussion, you know it’s not just the food, but the entire situation around the food.  This is definitely top 10. 

On the way back to Beaune, we stop to see a still working windmill, the kind I associate with Amsterdam, not France.  We head on to Chateau de la Rochepot, a castle overlooking the village of the same name.  It’s beautiful and picturesque and we are, quite frankly, burnt out on the whole castle thing.  We walk around the grounds for a few minutes, take a few pictures and decide what we really want to do… nap and hang out at the inn for a while.  It’s a nice way to spend a late afternoon on vacation. 

Two weeks is a long vacation, and eating out constantly can become too much.  We did really good in that department.  Until Beaune.  Traditional French is delicious, but rib-stickingly heavy.  Even on a foodie day like today, we need simple for dinner.  We go to Brasserie La Carnot for a salad and a thin crust pizza.  Sitting in the sidewalk café, we see Lara and Jason, the couple from Denver from last night.  We make plans to meet up after dinner.  We connect in the square about 10:30 and look for place for a drink.  We figure we’ll give Les Coulisses Beaune a try because the sign and doorway looked cool.  Inside the doorway, we head down a hallway to a narrow set of steps down.  We walk into an amazingly trendy hip bar lounge space.  A wine cave reimagined into speakeasy, the low arched ceilings lend an intimacy to the place, and the vintage pop music and hidden lighting glow give everything a super cool vibe.  Groups of stylish 20-somethings, thin and beautiful, couples huddled intimately at corner tables.  I wouldn’t be surprised if a liquor commercial broke out.  We’re home.  One of the two guys behind the bar comes over to take our order.  Missing home and the American bar scene, Mandy orders a Jack, rocks on the side.  I order a Goose martini, but no Goose.  After some ribbing about this being the only decent bar in all of France and not having THE essential French vodka (OK, THE essential vodka, period) we take a recommendation for some Russian brand we have never heard of.  We spend the evening talking life, food, drink, work and travel with Lara and Jason, sipping and laughing.  As the hour gets later we are talking to the barmen more, too.  We learn that they are the owners and have recently opened after a year long renovation.  Super nice guys working hard to achieve their vision.  Around 1:30 We finally hit the wall, in this case, the curved fieldstone wall.  Some selfies to commemorate the night and we’re buzzily off to bed.  

France Day 12 Beaune – Grapes to the Horizon

We are loving this beautiful room, so we sleep in.  Delicious traditional breakfast prepared by our host.  Time to explore Beaune.  First stop Hospices be Beaune, also called Hotel-Dieu de Beaune.  The building is one of the best examples of 15th century French architecture, its incredible multi-colored glazed tile roof is visible from virtually everywhere in town.  The hospital was started in 1443 by Nicolas Rolin, a rich benefactor at the end of the Hundred Years War.  A wholly altruistic venture, this “palace for the poor” was designed and built specifically to give respectable care and comfort to the poor of Burgundy at no cost.  Operating continuously 1400s until well into the 1900s, we really liked seeing the history and evolution of medicine, pharmacy and caregiving.  Leaving, we wander through the streets of this walled city and notice the subtle differences between Beaune and Avignon.  While Avignon is more inhabited with locals, Beaune has become the mecca for wine tourists from around the globe.  Avignon restaurants tended to be more Paris café, while Beaune maintains a traditional French cuisine.  We were expecting same-same, but happily got the distinct personalities of each place. 

Next, to explore the wine villages north of town.  There are plenty of suggestions for wine trails on line and we find one that makes sense for us.  First stop Savigny-les-Beaune, population 1372, most of whom must have been involved in the grape harvest on this particular Tuesday, as almost every restaurant in town is closed.  Almost.  One tiny bistro has a small “Ouvert” sign out front.  We walk into Le Morgan, a literal one man show.  The happy, lanky man who seats us is also the waiter, bartender, chef, dishwasher and owner.  He helps us order and brings us delicious house red while we wait.  Despite other tables and other duties, his timing is excellent.  We split the goat cheese salad, fresh and light with the best cheese toast on the planet.  Mandy ordered the Troyes Andouillette Sausage, a local speciality made in the neighboring town of Troyes.  The spicy, savory pork inside is coarsely chopped, not ground, and it was served with an expertly crafted country mustard sauce.  I got the Gambas, giant prawn sautéed with and finished with lots of fresh herbs and crunchy sea salt. I love seafood, and these were beyond exceptional.  My language skills are non-existent, so when our host came to clear the dishes I used Google Translate to help me say “les meilleurs gambas jamais” because these really were the best shrimp I ever ate.  By his reaction, Mandy said I made his day, and I was glad because he really made mine.

We walk a few blocks (there only are a few blocks in the village) to Henry de Villamont.  The grapes are coming in by the trailer load, and the entire family is working under a big tent to sort and stem.  Inside, we do a tasting of both their whites and reds.  We’re no wine connoisseurs, but we really are starting to appreciate the difference among the villages and the winemakers in each village.  We pick a few nice bottles to take with.  Back on the road, we see a sign for “Panorama”. We’re tourists, we like panoramas so we turn up the hill.  There’s a small parking lot near the top and we walk the last few hundred yards.  We end up at the top of the mountain standing next to a 15 foot tall statue of the Blessed Mother, keeping watch over the entire valley.  The view is awesome, grape vines in neat rows in geometric plots stretching all the way to the horizon.  There are pods of transient farm workers harvesting and I am reminded of my hometown, The Blueberry Capitol of the World, in June when the berries are in.

Back at the B&B, we meet our innkeeper and resident winemaker Philippe for our tasting date.  We have seen inside the small winery but we are surprised when he takes us down into his very own Cave a Vin, an arched ceiling fieldstone basement lined with aging barrels.  Philippe has been in the wine business his whole life.  He and his wife started buying vines in 1984 and over time acquired the property we are standing in now.  He shows us the fields he now owns on a map of the region.  In the 1990s they decided to renovate the building into a 5 room luxury bed and breakfast.  We try two reds that are ready and they are the best we have had in France, complex, fruity, spicy and dry with a nice long finish. 

In town, we settle on F&B for dinner, a beautifully redone space right off the main square.  We meet Lara and Jason, a fun couple from Denver seated right next to us.  They are both in the restaurant business, she a manager at John Elway’s steakhouse and he a former sommelier now working towards owning his own place.  They here in wine mecca are celebrating Jason’s 40th and we have a ball talking with them.  We compare notes on wineries, restaurants and sights to be seen.  Easy to make fast friends here.