The years I spent researching the history, culture, and cuisine of Friuli-Venezia Giulia are some of the most memorable of my life. Throughout my travels, I ate in countless restaurants so that I could really get to know the cooking of this unique region. Some meals were underwhelming or even downright awful (I’m thinking of a particular bowl of microwaved gnocchi here), and a few others left me frustrated with bad service (several times my order got mixed up or I’d have to wait an hour trying to chase down my bill). But so many more were outstanding, where the owners truly made me feel welcome and the food was unforgettable. It was quite difficult to narrow my list down, but here are what I’d have to say were my ten most memorable meals in FVG.
1. Osteria Al Vecchio Stallo, Udine
My very first trip to Friuli was in February 2000, for a meeting with the owner of the Ledragomma GymnastikBall factory, Steno Dondè. I was staying in Udine, and when Steno learned of my interest in cooking and Italian cuisine, he invited me to dinner at one of the city’s oldest restaurants. Occupying a 17th-century building that used to be a horse stable, Osteria Al Vecchio Stallo has been serving food for at least a hundred years.
After we were seated at a rustic table covered in a red-checked cloth, I let Steno order for me. I began with the cialcions. While there are countless recipes for this filled pasta (also spelled cjalsòns or cjarzòns), most are either sweet or a combination of sweet and savory. The version here was on the savory side, filled with herbs and providing only a hint of sweetness from the cinnamon and butter. They were topped with ricotta affumicata, a smoked ricotta cheese that is one of Friuli’s specialties.
Next, I had frico con polenta, a fried cheese and potato pancake served with polenta. Cut from a skillet-sized pancake, the wedge of frico was crispy on the outside and oozing with melted cheese and mashed potato goodness on the inside. Being a sucker for melted cheese, I was instantly captivated. When I returned home, my new fascination with Friulian cooking turned into an obsession and eventually evolved into plans for my cookbook, Flavors of Friuli: A Culinary Journey through Northeastern Italy.
2. Ristorante Al Fogolâr, Brazzacco
My second time in Friuli was brief—a one-day stopover in Udine with my then-boyfriend (now-husband), Mike, sandwiched between visits to Venezia and Firenze. I made plans to meet up with Steno again, this time joined by his wife, Liviana. After picking us up in Udine, they drove us to their hometown of Brazzacco, where we had dinner at Ristorante Al Fogolâr.
We started by sharing a platter of prosciutto di San Daniele, which was followed by plates of the best gnocchi di zucca I’ve ever had. The dumplings were made with butternut squash, served in a generous bath of browned butter, and topped with fresh sage and smoked ricotta. Too often I find gnocchi to be disappointingly dense and doughy, but these were so delicate and cloud-like, they became my benchmark for recreating the dish.
After the amazing gnocchi, our final course seemed almost anticlimactic. Mike and I both had the frico con polenta, although this one was different from the one at Al Vecchio Stallo. Instead of wedges cut from a large frico, these were thin pancakes of potato and Montasio cheese, fried to a crispy exterior, leaving the center soft and gooey.
3. Ristorante Alle Vecchie Carceri, San Daniele del Friuli
My first day trip to San Daniele del Friuli was in December 2002, when I’d made a special trip to Friuli for the sole purpose of discovering more about the region’s cuisine. I’d already fallen in love with cjalsòns and was making a point to try them wherever possible. So when I saw cjalsòns di Treppo Carnico listed on the menu outside the door to Ristorante Alle Vecchie Carceri, I was instantly persuaded to enter. Inside, the simple yet sophisticated décor—white damask linens and emerald green accents throughout—belied the building’s history as an old Austrian prison.
Upon being seated, I was offered a complimentary appetizer consisting of a small mound of polenta topped by two wafers of frico croccante (Montasio cheese crisps), a pile of ricotta affumicata, and a sprinkling of poppy seeds. For my first course, I ordered a plate of mixed salumi, which included prosciutto di San Daniele, several types of salami, and an assortment of pickled vegetables served over baby spinach. Next, I had their cjalsòns, which were round and plump, shaped rather like flying saucers, with a filling of mashed potatoes, caramelized onion, and raisins. They were served in a pool of melted butter and topped with cinnamon, sugar, and ricotta affumicata. Cinnamon sticks and piles of raisins garnished the plate. They were the best cjalsòns I had tasted thus far!
I must also mention the bread basket, which was one of the most varied and interesting I’ve ever sampled. Everything was freshly baked: soft rosemary rolls, a whole wheat twist with walnuts and currants, a green-flecked herb roll, and thick homemade grissini. I could easily have filled up on nothing but those rolls.
For dessert, I ordered the “sformato al cioccolato con cuore fondente e composta al pompelmo rosa”—essentially a chocolate lava cake, served with two thin wafer cookies, a dollop of whipped cream, a sauce of bitter pink grapefruit peel, some red currants, and a dusting of cocoa and powdered sugar. Like all their presentations, this plate looked as artfully designed as it was delicious—a perfect end to my first day in San Daniele!
(Note: Ristorante Alle Vecchie Carceri closed in 2009. That same year, owner Rosanna Clocchiatti and husband/chef Ugo Durigon moved to Udine to take over the management of Trattoria Antica Maddalena, where guests can still enjoy the chef’s splendid cjalsòns.)
4. Ristorante Salon, Arta Terme
In May 2004, I traveled to Arta Terme for the Festa dell’Asparago di Bosco, del Radicchio di Montagna, e dei Funghi di Primavera. As part of the festival, Ristorante Salon was hosting a special tasting-menu, featuring wild asparagus, mountain radicchio, spring mushrooms, and other bounties of spring. Regular menu items, including their cjarsòns, were not available that day. Since I was still on a mission to try cjarsòns whenever possible, I was rather disappointed.
The following week, Mike joined me for the remainder of my trip. I decided to cut our time in Sauris short, just so that I could return to Salon and taste their cjarsòns. I wasn’t disappointed this time. After sampling nearly twenty versions over the years, these were—and still are—my absolute favorite. Unlike some recipes that use a potato-based dough (similar to gnocchi), these were prepared with regular pasta dough, delicate enough to allow all the flavors of the dish to shine through. The first element to register on my palate was the undercurrent of sweetness—not rich but rather ethereal from a light touch of sugar and crushed biscotti. Apples, pears, dried fruit, jam, and lemon peel balanced the sugar with just the right amount of tartness. Hints of salty and smoky savoriness peeked through from the butter and ricotta affumicata. Finally, the cinnamon, cocoa, and herbs provided an exotic complexity of tastes and aromas that lingered on my tongue long after the last bite.
The rest of our meal was not worth describing in detail here, but the cjarsòns alone were good enough to bring me back to Arta Terme for a longer stay the following summer. (Note: Ristorante Salon closed in 2017, following the passing of owners Fides and Bepi Salon.)
5. Ristorante Alla Pace, Sauris di Sotto
For my summer 2005 trip, I created a self-guided itinerary that took me to several of Carnia’s food festivals, including Sauris’s Festa del Prosciutto. During my stay in Sauris di Sotto, I ended up eating four dinners and a lunch at Ristorante Alla Pace. While each meal there was extraordinary, two are closely tied for the title of favorite.
When I arrived for my first dinner there, I was seated by Franca Schneider, mother of the restaurant’s chef, Andrea Schneider. An exceedingly hospitable woman, she made me feel right at home. To start, she served two complimentary antipasti: a crispy frico croccante in the shape of a bowl and a zucchini blossom stuffed with ricotta. Naturally, I had to try their cjalsòns, which were made with pasta so paper-thin and delicate that they appeared pale green from the herbed ricotta filling. With a scalloped edge, these half-moons made an elegant presentation, served in a spiral pattern on the plate, with a topping of finely grated ricotta affumicata and poppy seeds. For my second course, I ordered the gulasch (Hungarian-style beef stew) with a side of pan-fried potatoes.
As I lingered, savoring my glass of red wine, I spoke with Signora Franca at great length about my cookbook project. After discussing my list of recipes, particularly the ones I was still uncertain about, she brought me a huge coffee-table book called Friuli: Via dei Sapori to browse through.
I was eager to return the next evening, so as to take a closer look at that book. This time, Signora Franca was so insistent that I try the gnocco croccante that I didn’t even glance at the menu. It was a good call. Those gnocchi were some of the best I had ever eaten! Shaped like little footballs, the potato dumplings were filled with a mixture of minced speck and cheese; then, after a brief boil, they finished cooking in a skillet of butter, giving them a nice golden crispness on the top and bottom. Five of these gnocchi were presented in a circle over a bed of wilted greens. Soft, delicate, and crispy all at the same time, they got an amazing flavor boost from the salty filling.
Having saved room for dessert this time, I ordered a slice of torta di mele. Finally, I had found an apple cake worthy of recreating for my cookbook! While the cake itself was similar to others I’d tried, the presentation was a step above. Thin slices of apple were set obliquely into the cake in a spiral pattern; to serve, the cake was then dusted with powdered sugar, cinnamon, and slivered almonds.
6. Osteria Al Tulat, Forni di Sopra
This entry technically comprises three meals, as I’m once again finding it difficult to choose one that stands out over the others. I’d wrapped up my summertime food festival tour with a couple of days in Forni di Sopra. While wandering through town on the evening of my arrival, looking for a restaurant that was open, I happened to stumble upon the cozy Osteria Al Tulat at Albergo Tarandan. The highlight of the meal was the antipasto buffet, a decadent table of goodies that included sausage-stuffed pomodori gratinati (tomatoes gratin), spinach quiche topped with ham and cheese, roasted bell peppers, mixed olives, and marinated anchovies. As I was tucking in to my main course, a plate of goulasch, the chef peeked his head out of the closet-sized kitchen and asked, “Signora, conosce la polenta?” (Do I know polenta?), to which I responded by explaining that I was writing a Friulian cookbook. He introduced himself as Giuseppe, although he said everyone called him Rocky on account of his black belt in karate. Chef Rocky then invited me to return the following evening, offering to prepare some traditional Friulian dishes especially for me.
On my second evening there, I let Rocky take full charge of my meal, as agreed. First, he sent out a taste of marinated eggplant, a recipe he said was from Puglia. Next, he fixed me a plate of cjarsòns—not a traditional version, he explained, but his own original rendition. The greenish dumplings were made with a spinach-and-potato dough, stuffed with a mixture of game meat and radicchio, and topped with melted butter and grated cheese. Already quite full but not wanting to turn down his baccalà, I requested just a half portion. The salt cod was prepared alla Vicentina: a soupy stew cooked with potatoes, onion, and milk.
With a storm brewing on my third evening in Forni di Sopra, I returned for a final meal at Osteria Al Tulat. Like the first visit, I was invited to help myself to antipasti from the buffet. This time, the selection included marinated bell peppers, eggplant, pearl onions, and string beans, as well as those delicious, briny anchovies. And once again, Chef Rocky treated me to some of his specialties. First, he prepared a bowl of gnocchetti. Presumably prepared from the same green spinach-and-potato dough as the previous evening’s cjarsòns, these diminuitive dumplings were topped with melted butter and ricotta affumicata. Finally, Rocky brought out a plate holding two fried sardines—to be precise, as I later surmised, they were European anchovies, a type of “blue fish” caught in the waters off Friuli’s coast. The fish were only about three inches long, butterflied and flattened, then coated in very fine bread crumbs and fried.
7. Trattoria Al Cacciatore de La Subida, Cormòns
The Michelin-starred La Subida, run by husband and wife team Joško and Loredana Sirk, is situated in the heart of the Collio wine zone, just outside the town of Cormòns. My first meal there was in the summer of 2005, and it remains one of my most memorable to date. I was seated outside on the veranda, where Loredana, upon learning of my cookbook project, suggested that she might bring an assortment of small plates for me to sample.
To start, she brought me a complimentary glass of Prosecco, some frico croccante, and a taste of ricotta salata over polenta with a garnish of arugula and black pepper. This was followed by two antipasti prepared with phyllo dough: a phyllo purse stuffed with shredded zucchini and served with a fried sage leaf and a warm sauce of sambuco syrup, and a large single sheet of phyllo served on a mound of grated apple and accompanied by sautéed zucchini blossoms and red bell peppers. Then, there were small portions of two Slovenian pasta dishes: mlinci (thick, wide noodles served in a phyllo bowl with a sauce of minced goose and tomatoes) and zlikrofi (pasta filled with potato, pancetta, onion, and marjoram, served in a meat broth, and topped with shavings of cheese). The final primo piatto, a strudel di ciliege (cherry strudel), was my favorite: a filling of chopped fresh cherries was rolled jellyroll-style in a sheet of gnocchi dough before being boiled, sliced, and served with a drizzle of melted butter and a topping of toasted bread crumbs, sugar, and cinnamon.
After that series of small plates, I was quite full—too full for any of the secondi piatti. This was a shame because I had been looking forward to trying their famous stinco di vitello (veal shank). Nevertheless, I couldn’t resist a slice of apple strudel. Along with my dessert, Loredana brought a plate of six homemade biscotti and a bowl of fresh cherries. Later, on my way back from the restroom, I ran into Joško Sirk. As we were talking, I noticed a waiter wheeling a cart of stinco di vitello from the dining room toward the kitchen. Excitedly, I spoke up, and Joško carved off a little for me, along with a spoonful of patate in tecia. The veal was melt-in-your-mouth tender, and the potatoes had a sweet, caramelized flavor from the onions.
8. Osteria Istriano, Trieste
I stumbled upon Osteria Istriano one afternoon, while wandering up and down Trieste’s waterfront, unable to find a different restaurant that had been recommended to me. Despite its prime location, Istriano’s laid-back atmosphere made me feel instantly at ease. There were no stuffy waiters in tuxedos or fancy linen tablecloths or fine china engraved with the restaurant’s name. Instead, rustic wooden tables were laid with straw place mats, and the lone server was dressed casually in jeans and a t-shirt.
There was no written menu, so after listening to the day’s offerings, I ordered as an antipasto the carpaccio di branzino: paper-thin slices of raw sea bass served over a bed of arugula, with pink peppercorns, cherry tomatoes, and a light lemon and olive oil dressing. For my main course, I had the grigliata mista di pesce, a plate of grilled seafood that consisted of baby calamari, a couple of larger calamari, and some sardoni barcolani (a.k.a. European anchovies). All the calamari were exceedingly tender, the babies being particularly infused with the deep, charred flavors of the grill. By comparison, the sardoni were a tad bland, not to mention filled with bones, but they were still thoroughly enjoyable. I also ordered the only side dish available, strips of sautéed zucchini. And I mustn’t forget to mention the savory onion-topped focaccia in the bread basket, a happy departure from the usual slices of plain white baguette.
9. Buffet Da Pepi, Trieste
On my very first trip to Trieste, I’d asked around for recommendations on where to eat. There was an unmistakable consensus: Buffet Da Pepi. In Trieste, a “buffet” isn’t at all what we Americans call a buffet (i.e. an all-you-can-eat Vegas-style meal); rather, it began centuries ago as an old-world-style fast-food counter where merchants and shopkeepers could grab a quick midmorning snack. Today, buffets usually provide a few tables for a sit-down meal, typically remain open all day, and close well before the late Italian dinner hour. Established in 1897, Buffet Da Pepi is said to be the oldest still in existence.
This particular meal at Da Pepi capped off a fairly strenuous hike through the Val Rosandra, a huge gorge that slices through the mountainous Carso region. It had been a gorgeous autumn day—crisp, blue sky with just a hint of chill in the air, red and gold foliage just beginning to appear. I’d begun my trek in the town of Bagnoli, winding my way for several hours up and down the hilly trails surrounding the gorge. Despite getting a bit lost without a map, it was one of my favorite outings of that trip.
When I finally made it back to Trieste later that afternoon, I was exhausted, starving, and ready for an early dinner. Buffet Da Pepi was just what I needed! I was lucky enough to snag a seat at one of their few small tables, and I ordered my usual: a glass of red wine and the piatto misto. Served on a pig-shaped platter, Da Pepi’s signature dish contained an array of assorted types of pork, including ham, bacon, sausage, and tongue, accompanied by sauerkraut, mustard, and freshly grated cren (horseradish). I’ve eaten at Da Pepi several times during my various stays in Trieste, and while I always ordered the same dish, this meal was by far the most satisfying.
10. Ristorante La Tecia, Trieste
My husband and I stumbled upon Ristorante La Tecia during our trip in the spring of 2004. I was so impressed with the place that it became one of my favorite dining spots when I returned for a much longer stay the following year. The staff was welcoming, the food stellar, and even though lunchtime tended to be fairly busy, I always felt very comfortable here.
Fast-forward to January 2011, when my family had spent the Christmas holidays in a rental apartment in Venezia. On our very last day before flying home, my son (David, 4 years old at the time) and I took a day trip into Trieste for a visit with my friends at Pasticceria Penso. It was pouring rain, and we’d barely made the train since our usual vaporetto wasn’t running due to heavy fog. Once in Trieste, we took the bus from the train station into the old city center. After our brief visit at Penso, we stopped at La Tecia for lunch. Seeing as it was located on the way from the bakery back to the station, it couldn’t have been more convenient.
Throughout the meal, David was such a little gentleman! He was always well-behaved when eating out, and this day was no exception. I ordered him his usual plate of pasta al burro (pasta with butter), which he devoured happily. Along with a quarter liter of red wine, I had the orata (sea bream) fillets, which were topped with thin rounds of zucchini and potato. We would have stayed for dessert, but my bakery friends had lavished us with gifts, including a whole sachertorte and a half dozen of my favorite pastries. (Those pastries sure came in handy later, when our return train was delayed by over an hour.) Despite the inclement weather and transportation headaches both ways, this remains one of my favorite restaurant memories of all time and without a doubt one of the best days I’ve ever shared with my son!
