How ordinary, I thought, as I quickly passed over the first item on the menu at La Siriola in the weensy hamlet of Armentarola, Italy. Why would anyone settle for a little salad when there were such creative appetizers as Onion Soup with Poached Egg, Black Truffle on Calamari Scent; Homemade Potato, Mint and Saffron Ravioli; and Filled and Glazed Tomato with Fried Pumpkin Flower sharing that first page?
But it was the salad that stole the show during Act I of
dinner at one of the most magical Michelin one-star experiences I’ve ever had. Our giddy group of six had just
completed a six-day trek through the dramatic Dolomite mountains in northernmost Italy…an adventure, we all agreed, that ranked as an all-time-great. Wearing backpacks with bare necessities and
minimal clothing changes, we hiked 8 hours a day and stayed overnight at the
charming mountain “huts," most reachable only by foot, for which this region, the Süd Tirol is known.
(More about those escapades in a later post.)
Our last day of hiking dropped us into Armentarola, a hamlet of a half-dozen buildings, where we checked into the enchanting Hotel Armentarola and made a dinner reservation at La Siriola. Located in the Ciasa Salares hotel, across the street from ours, La Siriola won its first Michelin star in 1995. (Both hotels are owned by branches of the Wieser family.) There we sat, with clean clothes and coiffed hair (we had left our car, with “city” clothes, hairdryers, etc. at Hotel Armentarola before starting the trek), in rapt appreciation of the dining drama unfolding before us.
The “composition of flowers” was stunning…an artistic jumble
of baby lettuces, pansies, cresses, dill, tiny berries, radish ribbons, wildflowers,
and a paper-thin slice of “toast” that we could actually see through. The simple glass square plate allowed
the salad to shine, the subtle raspberry-scented vinaigrette enhanced the
natural flavors instead of covering them up. Every bite teased with different
textures and extraordinary freshness.
Our dinner at La Siriola had kicked off with aperitifs on the terrace, from where we could look up at the rolling hills and stony peaks we had navigated that day. Basking in the early evening sun – darkness doesn’t descend until after 10 pm in late June – we were treated to an astonishing array of complimentary appetizers including airy poufs of dough that melted on our tongues.
Once inside the casually elegant dining room – crystal, china and furnishings are top quality without the fussiness and “attitude” of most restaurants of this caliber – we quickly learned that “complimentary” treats were a signature of La Siriola’s chef, Claudio Melis.
With the 7-course prix fixe dinner costing 92 Euro per person (a whopping 142 Euro with wines), we decided to take the a la carte approach. (At an exchange rate of about $1.25 to one Euro, that’s about $115 and $178 respectively.)
Though we ordered only two or three courses per person, we were treated to an awe-inspiring parade of additional tiny treasures: An espresso cup of intensely perfumed mushroom broth with a wisp of rosemary; an amazing breadbasket with 10 kinds of tiny rolls, including a tapenade-swirled “cinna-bun;” a morsel of burrata topped with sun-dried tomato; silken amberjack tartare with Nicoise salad; caramel cream pudding in a tipsy cordial glass; Lilliputian macaroons, delicate chocolates and glistening jelly candies.
Highlights of the dinner included the aforementioned saffron
ravioli “with sweet cheese on a tomato marmalade;” a sensational suckling pig
in almond crust with turnips and licorice-coffee sauce; and a strawberry
dessert “soup” with a floating island of sponge cake. (More on the suckling pig
later this week.)
To find such a gastronomic jewel in the middle of no-where
is astonishing. It’s even more astounding to find four Michelin stars in this bucolic Heidi-land. A Wieser cousin, Hugo Pizzinini and his
chef Norbert Niederkofler, have garnered two Michelin stars for their
restaurant in La Rosa Alpina Hotel in nearby San Cassiano. And a third chef,
Arturo Spicocchi, also snagged a star for his Stüa di Michil in Corvara, a
short bus ride away. (The chefs are pictured here during an annual charity cook-off; from left, Melis, Spicocchi and Niederkofler.)
The presence of three Michelin-starred eateries in this tiny
valley is a glorious mystery.
But, to be honest, dinner at La Siriola was but a delicious
footnote to our Alpine adventure.
Getting there really was the whole fun. I’ll be sharing more recipes, routes
and tales from our journey in the days to come.
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