The first time I visited Gorizia, it was a bitterly cold February morning, the sky overcast and gloomy with the threat of impending snow. Now that it was May, conditions were perfect to get my essential—and oft sought-after—“blue sky” shots of the city. I took the train from Udine, and even though it was only mid-morning when I arrived, the sun had already begun to beat down with fierce intensity.
After stopping for a photo of the onion-domed Chiesa di Sant’Ignazio, I headed directly to the hilltop Castello di Gorizia, whose entrance was guarded by a rather morose-looking winged lion of Saint Mark. As I made my way through the medieval castle’s three floors, I encountered few tourists but hordes of schoolchildren. Among the rooms were a kitchen, dining room, chapel, and numerous exhibits of weaponry. The castle’s ramparts afforded a splendid view of the surrounding countryside, even across the border into neighboring Slovenia.
For lunch, I chose Ristorante Rosenbar based on the description in my guidebook, Ristoranti, Osterie e Frasche del Friuli–Venezia Giulia by Ermanno Torossi, which listed a number of Mitteleuropean dishes at the restaurant. It was therefore a surprise to find that the menu consisted primarily of seafood.
I started with the baccalà mantecato, simply because I find this creamy salt cod purée irresistible. Unfortunately, the portion was rather miniscule, served on a couple cut-out circles of dry white bread. Next, I had the sardoni apanadi (breaded sardines). Locally called sardoni barcolani, these are actually European anchovies—not true sardines—and are plentiful in the waters off Trieste. Butterflied, breaded, and fried, these tiny fish were accompanied by two pieces of asparagus.
For dessert, I wanted to try the koch di semolino con mele (semolina cake with apples) that was listed on the menu, but the waitress informed me that it wasn’t available. So on my way back to the train station, I found a fantastic bakery and bought a slice of kugelhopf. Often called cuguluf in Friuli, this cake is baked in a Bundt pan and may contain raisins, nuts, or a swirl of chocolate. Of course, I chose the chocolate-marbled version.
For dinner that evening, I returned to Udine’s Osteria Al Vecchio Stallo. For the very first time—since my previous trips to Friuli had all been in winter—I was seated in the restaurant’s outdoor courtyard. With a bucolic grapevine-covered trellis overhead, the area provided a tranquil escape from the noise of the city streets. I started with the gnocchi verdi: green, herb-flecked dumplings that were quite rich and doughy. This was followed by salted herring served with onions and polenta. For dessert, I ordered the gubana, a dried fruit- and nut-filled spiral cake that the restaurant served bagnata—soaked in grappa.
