I awoke early to the sound of a light rain pattering against our windows. It was the perfect day to sleep in, yet Mike and I had plans to leave Sauris and drive eastward toward the town of Arta Terme. For once, I had not made a hotel reservation for the night, so we needed to find a place to stay.
Our breakfast at Hotel Pa’Krhaizar was the most memorable of any I’ve ever had in Italy. Instead of the all-too-common packaged toast and dry, tasteless rolls that are typically accompanied by those tiny, plastic packets of jam, we were served a basket of soft, warm, freshly-baked rolls along with the most delicious condiments ever: three small dishes of homemade preserves—orange marmalade and cherry and strawberry jams—as well as pots of honey and freshly churned butter. In addition, there was plenty of the thin European-style yogurt that I love, most likely made from the milk of local cows (and especially delicious with a swirl of strawberry jam).
Mid-morning we began the tortuous drive down from the hamlet of Lateis, back through the spooky, cave-like tunnels toward Ampezzo. Originally, we had planned on driving west to Forni di Sopra, but with the rain, we realized there wouldn’t be such a great view of the Dolomites. (The following summer, I would return to Carnia and visit Forni di Sopra, along with several other towns.) So instead, we headed east to Villa Santina, where we took the road north through the Val Degano.
Even though Mike was getting used to driving a stick-shift, we still had this anxiety (mostly unfounded) over parking the car, for fear we might not get it started again. Therefore, we didn’t make as many stops along the way as I would have liked. We did pull over in Ovaro, though, when I spotted a bakery and wanted to look again for esse di Raveo. The town of Raveo, after which these “S”-shaped cookies were named, was in this same valley, although we had passed the turn-off a few minutes earlier. Unfortunately, this bakery only sold the cookies in large tubs, which I passed up in hopes of finding individual cookies elsewhere.
We continued north to Comeglians, when we turned eastward into the Valcalda. We stopped in Ravascletto for lunch at the Albergo Ristorante Bellavista. Since it was still May and not yet peak summer season, the restaurant was empty. Instead of being seated in the dining room, we were served at one of the casual tables in the front room. Given how much we had been eating as of late, we opted for only a single course. The restaurant offered two types of cjarsòns—savory with herbs and sweet with raisins—and we ordered a plate of each. Neither one was particularly memorable.
From Ravascletto, we headed east and then south toward Arta Terme. Earlier on the trip, I had enjoyed my meal at Albergo Ristorante Salon and was disappointed that their famous cjarsòns were not on the menu due to the weekend’s food festival (and special tasting-menu). In hopes of another chance to try them, we made Salon our next stop. Like at Bellavista, there were few guests, so we had no trouble booking a room. Matteo Maieron, who was the waiter at my tasting-menu lunch, remembered me and greeted us both with youthful enthusiasm.
Our room was a triple with a large, red-tiled bathroom and a pleasant view of the hills behind the hotel. After a brief rest, we drove to Tolmezzo, ten minutes further south, and paid a visit to the Museo Carnico delle Arti Popolari. This ethnographic museum contained a collection of all aspects of Carnian life and culture—thirty rooms full of clothing, cookware, furniture, musical instruments, masks, and portraits. Afterward, we scoped out another bakery in our search for a snack of esse di Raveo. Apparently, the cookies were not sold individually anywhere, so we purchased a plastic tub of them for the road. As we drove back toward Arta Terme in the late afternoon, nibbling on the crisp, sweet cookies, we could see the fog curling in through the valley like tendrils of smoke.
Dinner at Ristorante Salon that evening was one I will never forget. Ever since my first bite of cjarsòns several years earlier, I had become obsessed with the dish, trying it at every possible opportunity. In fact, I had already sampled two different versions at lunch this very day. But it was the reputation of Salon’s cjarsòns that led me to visit their restaurant in the first place, and I was not to be disappointed this time. After sampling nearly twenty versions over the years, these were—and still are—my absolute favorite. Filled with a sublime combination of apple, pear, and herbs, and tossed with butter, sugar, cinnamon, and ricotta affumicata, they were the perfect balance of sweet, savory, salty, and smoky.
Fortunately, Mike and I both began with the cjarsòns, because the rest of the meal was acutely anticlimactic. For my second course, I ordered the pheasant breast, which came with French fries and salad. The pheasant was gray and bland, not nearly as tasty as the one prepared two weeks earlier as part of the tasting menu. The salad was deftly prepared to order by Matteo, who assembled the garden-fresh ingredients from a table-side rolling cart; however, the French fries were nothing but a cop-out on the part of the kitchen staff. Mike’s entrée was no more appealing: thin slices of overcooked roast beef, which also came with French fries and salad. The meal was redeemed only slightly by a slice of warm apple strudel for our dessert.
The memory of those cjarsòns drew me back to Salon repeatedly the following summer. Here is my adaptation of the recipe given to me by owner Bepi Salon:
Pasta Dough:
1 cup semolina flour
1/4 cup boiling water, plus extra as needed
1 tablespoon olive oil
In a medium bowl, combine the flour, boiling water, and olive oil. Transfer the dough to a clean surface; knead until the flour is fully incorporated and the mixture becomes smooth and elastic, about 10 minutes. (If the dough is too dry or crumbly, lightly moisten your fingers with water during kneading until you reach the desired texture.) Cover with plastic wrap and let rest for 30 minutes.
Filling:
1 white potato (about 8 ounces), peeled and quartered
1/4 cup finely crushed biscotti
1/4 cup grated apple
1/4 cup grated pear
3 tablespoons grated ricotta affumicata
2 tablespoons dried currants
2 tablespoons apricot jam
2 teaspoons sugar
1 teaspoon freshly grated lemon peel
1/4 teaspoon unsweetened cocoa powder
1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
Pinch salt
1 teaspoon butter
1 tablespoon chopped fresh Italian parsley
1 tablespoon chopped fresh basil
1 tablespoon chopped fresh mint
1 tablespoon chopped fresh marjoram
1. Place the potato in a medium pot filled with water; bring to a boil over high heat. Cook until tender, about 20 minutes. Drain the potato and place in a medium bowl; mash well. Cool to room temperature. Stir in the crushed biscotti, apple, pear, ricotta affumicata, currants, apricot jam, sugar, lemon peel, cocoa powder, cinnamon, and salt.
2. Melt 1 teaspoon butter in a small skillet over medium heat. Add the parsley, basil, mint, and marjoram; cook and stir until wilted, about 1 minute. Stir into the potato mixture. Refrigerate for 1 hour, or until ready to use.
To prepare:
1/2 cup (1 stick) butter
1/2 cup grated ricotta affumicata
2 tablespoons sugar
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1. Working in batches, feed the dough through the rollers of a pasta machine until very thin (setting #7 on most machines). Cut out 3-inch circles from the dough. Place 1 teaspoon filling on each circle. Moisten the edges with water and fold in half to make a semi-circle, sealing the edges tightly. Pinch the sealed edge into four points.
2. Bring a large pot of lightly salted water to a boil over high heat. Working in batches, place the cjarsòns in the water; cook until they rise to the surface, about 1–2 minutes. Drain.
3. Melt 1/2 cup butter in a large skillet over medium heat; remove from heat. Stir in the ricotta affumicata, sugar, and cinnamon; add the cjarsòns and toss to coat with butter.
