On my last day in Ravascletto, I chose to stay in for most of the day. I’d had a fairly strenuous past couple of days, with my recent hike up Monte Zoncolan and excursion to Ovaro, and just needed to take a bit of a break. After breakfast, I stationed myself on the veranda of Albergo Bellavista, setting up my laptop on a table overlooking the expansive Valcalda valley. The deck was lined with window boxes of red geraniums, and a couple of birdcages stood close-by. The dismal, gray clouds that had greeted me upon awakening cleared away by mid-morning to reveal a sparkling, blue sky. I was entirely content sitting there in the cool breeze, with nothing to distract me from my writing, except perhaps the intermittent canary song. At one point, the owner came over to chat. He showed great interest in my cookbook project and didn’t seem the least bit offended at my repeated failure to show up at mealtimes.
At noon, I packed up my computer and headed down the hill to eat at Hotel La Perla for the third time in as many days. This time, I ordered the gnocchi di mele. Along the lines of the more prevalent gnocchi di susine (plum gnocchi), these dumplings were made with a light and tender potato-based dough, filled with apples and raisins, and topped with melted butter, toasted bread crumbs, and cinnamon. I also took advantage of the mixed vegetable buffet, having been so impressed with it the prior evening. Today’s plate included string beans, potatoes, cauliflower, carrots, bell peppers, and spinach. For dessert, I continued the apple theme with a slice of apple strudel. Prepared in the traditional Viennese style, the dough was paper thin and stuffed with apples, raisins, and lots of cinnamon.
My afternoon was spent much like my morning, transcribing notes and working on the first draft of Flavors of Friuli. By late afternoon, another band of dark clouds had gloomily crept into the valley. This storm brought with it more thunder and lightning, and even a burst of hail.
As the rain was still pouring at dinnertime, I decided to stay indoors and have one more meal at Bellavista. The choices were just as dull as my first dinner there, and I ended up having a bowl of vegetable soup, a plate of prosciutto e melone, and a side of potatoes that were described as arrostite (roasted) but turned out to be disc-shaped tater tots instead. Dessert was a tart filled with pastry cream, strawberries, and blueberries. As I was eating, I noticed a nearby table being served an order of frico—and yet another table a plate of cjarsòns. If only I had had the gumption to insist on the regular menu! Still, I had learned a valuable lesson about the workings of Italian pensioni and vowed not to make the same mistake again.
