Down-to-Earth Dining in the Dolomites

Earlier this week I wrote about the Michelin-starred restaurants tucked away in the enchanting Alta Badia, a mountain-rimmed valley in northeastern Italy.  Indeed, it was exciting to celebrate the end of our five-day hut-to-hut trekking adventure with a feast featuring the likes of “Onion soup and Matera bread, poached egg, black truffle, on calamari scent.”

 

But, in truth, it was the traditional, stick-to-the-ribs fare in the hütte that we really fell in love with. If Michelin were to give stars for great-tasting food in funky inns perched on picturesque mountaintops, the Rifugio Santa Croce (Inn of the Holy Cross) would be a shoo-in for top honors.

The inn is also known as Heilig-Kreuz Hütte; all names in Italy’s Süd Tirol/Alto Adige are in German and Italian because the region belonged to the Austro-Hungarian Empire until the end of WWI. Since I speak German and not Italian, I refer to locations by their German names.

A hütte (pronounced hoo-tah) was built in this location, about 6,000 feet above sea level, more than 500 years ago as a stopover for pilgrims who arrived at the adjoining Heilig Kreuz chapel after long journeys on foot.

Over the years the buildings have undergone many changes; today’s modernized inn contains a well-outfitted kitchen and beds for about 25 people, in one large dorm and several multi-bedded rooms. Overnight guests share two bathrooms (with modern fixtures and a hot shower) and pay about 33 Euros (approximately $40) per person for room and breakfast. The inn is even reachable by a chair lift now, though guests must still climb about 15 minutes to reach the inn and chapel.

 

We caught our first glimpse of the alluring buildings from a grassy knoll about 15 minutes away. We had been hiking along the base of the towering Kreuzkofel mountain range, through pine forests and bright green meadows being chomped by grazing cows. When we arrived at the inn, we were warmly welcomed by the innkeeper Erbino Irsara, a jocular, animated guy who was schmoozing with a workman in the atmospheric stübe. (Pronounced shtoo-bah, it’s a  spacious, wood-paneled room that serves as bar, dining room, game room.)

 

After drinking a beer to our good fortune – another glorious hike, free of calamity, under sunny skies and with breathtaking scenery – we showered, changed and descended to the stübe for dinner. (Since the inn had just opened for the summer season, we were the only overnight guests.) Much to our amazement, Chef Erbino had traded his work shirt for a starched white chef’s jacket and towering toque. We quickly learned that he takes cooking very seriously, even though he is limited by the fact that all provisions must arrive by foot or chairlift.  He proceeded to knock our socks off with a meal that was both hearty and elegant.

 

Gerstlsuppe (barley soup) arrived first, steaming hot and flecked with bits of onion, carrot, and a flurry of fresh chives. Of the three entrees offered, I chose Wienerschnitzel (pictured here) and hit the jackpot. One of the best I’ve ever tasted, this cutlet of local pork was pounded thin, cloaked in homemade breadcrumbs the consistency of Japanese panko, and fried in plenty of butter. Every bite oozed a mix of natural juices and browned butter, every bite tickled the tongue with crispy edges and tender flesh. On the side were fabulous potatoes, sauteed  and showered with fresh chives.

As is customary, the schnitzel was served with a big mixed salad, simply dressed with vinegar and oil. Others in our group opted for mushroom goulash that shared a plate with a mass of soft buttery polenta.

Our mountain guide, Roman Profanter, had warned us to save room for dessert, and we understood why when Chef Erbino appeared with a massive platter of Kaiserschmarrn.  Loosely translated as Emperor’s Mishmash, this traditional Austrian specialty is a caramelized, crisp-edged, eggy pancake that is broken into pieces in the frying pan and served in a fluffy heap, topped with a blizzard of powdered sugar and plops of fruit preserves. Heilig Kreuz Hütte is renowned for the anytime-of-day dessert.  Skiers and hikers arrive in droves to dig into Irsara’s version that’s topped with mountain berry preserves.

After dinner we gathered outside the inn to watch the impressive display known as Alpenrot. As the sun goes down in the west it turns the grey stony faces of the Dolomite mountains a shimmering shade of red.  It’s amazing. But at the risk of dissing Mother Nature, I think that the evening's most impressive spectacle was Chef Erbino’s dinner.

 

Comments

[ffxiv gil]

A favored place.nice food,kind people,beautiful sights.

[Alice Q. Foodie]

How fabulous Maureen! Your trip sounds amazing!