I awoke to blue skies—the first since my arrival in Sauris—and some uncomfortably sore muscles from the previous day’s hike. At least I could take it easy, for today I would be moving on to Arta Terme, where I would be staying for four nights. The bus did not depart until noon, so I had the entire morning free. After packing and checking out of Hotel Morgenleit, I left my bag at the reception desk and set out to wander for a couple of hours. I wouldn’t arrive at my destination until 2:00pm, past the time I’d be able to have lunch in a restaurant, so I needed to take along a picnic for the road. At the town’s only market, I picked up an etto (100 grams) each of prosciutto di Sauris and fresh Montasio cheese, as well as a bunch of bananas.
From Sauris, I had to take three buses: Sauris to Ampezzo, Ampezzo to Tolmezzo, and Tolmezzo to Piano d’Arta, a hamlet up the hill from Arta Terme. I arrived on time and checked into my hotel, Albergo Poldo. I’d say that Poldo was right in the center of town, but then the town was only one block long, with a few hotels branching off on side streets. Even though I knew I’d be eating my dinners elsewhere—at Albergo Ristorante Salon!—I had decided to play it safe and stay at Poldo, since it sat practically next to the bus stop. Salon was located up a steep hill, and I didn’t want to get stuck dragging my suitcase all the way up there.
My room at Albergo Poldo was tiny, with creaky floors and just a single bed. A small window looked out onto the main street. Even though the sun had been shining in Sauris that morning, the rain had begun to fall once again. I collapsed onto my bed, worried that the rain would continue for my entire three weeks in Carnia.
Finally, around 4:00pm, the rain did stop. With the clouds rapidly dispersing, I went for a walk down the hill to the Terme di Arta. Located on the other side of the Bût River, a tributary of the extensive Tagliamento River, this spa has been operating its thermal baths since the late 19th century. Standing out conspicuously against the surrounding forested mountains, its Japanese-style pagoda made an interesting juxtaposition of time and culture. As I stood midway across the bridge, I felt the warm sun on my face and watched as the sparkling rays of light danced across the water. All was quiet except for the roar of the current coursing over the rocky shoals.
I lingered a long time by the river and, when the breeze off the water became too cool, leisurely made my way back up to Piano d’Arta. When it was dinnertime, I headed directly to Albergo Ristorante Salon, where I had stayed with Mike on our trip in May 2004. Their cjarsòns were the best I had ever tasted, and I was anxious to give them another try. When waiter Matteo served my plate and I took my first bite, I closed my eyes in order to fully savor the flavors on my tongue. The cjarsòns were everything I remembered them to be: a perfect combination of sweet and savory, salty and smoky. Filled with a complex blend of eighteen ingredients—including potato, apple, pear, cocoa, cinnamon, and an assortment of fresh herbs—these delicate ravioli were served in melted butter, sprinkled with cinnamon, and garnished with ricotta affumicata.
For my secondo piatto, I ordered the stinco di vitello, which came with a side of purè (mashed potatoes). The roast veal was sliced thin and pretty tasty, although not quite at the level of La Subida’s. I also had an insalata mista, which Matteo prepared tableside. From the cartful of garden-fresh produce, I chose some radicchio (green baby leaves, as opposed to the bitter, red radicchio from Treviso), sliced tomatoes, and tegolini (string beans).
After dinner, I had the privelege of meeting the owner, Bepi Salon. A spry man in his mid-80s, Signor Bepi sat with me for quite some time, answering questions about his restaurant, his life, and his passion for Carnian cuisine. A budding mycologist in his youth, Bepi pioneered the use of local ingredients and regional specialties—a novelty among the town’s many tourist hotels that once primarily featured national dishes such as lasagne and spaghetti al ragù. His wife, Fides, ran the kitchen, transforming all the wild edibles that Bepi brought back from his early morning treks through the woods—mushrooms, herbs, and berries—into dishes inspired by her mother’s family recipes. (Bepi Salon passed away on December 4, 2010; his daughter Antonella is now in charge of the kitchen.)
