Ristorante al Castello, Grinzane Cavour Italy

In a 13th century castle in Italy, I’m savoring hazelnut-crusted veal garnished with truffle shavings while being served by smiling waiters who praise my attempts to speak Italian and keep pouring red wine in my glass. Could anything be more sublime? No. At least, not until dessert arrives.

The imposing stone castle is Grinzane Cavour, set on a hill above acres of vineyards in the Piedmont wine country of northern Italy, and the restaurant is Ristorane al Castello. Its owner/chef Alessandro Boglione, who’s been here since 2009, has earned a Michelin star for his creative ways with cookery, but his prices are lower than you see at many starred restaurants. (That doesn’t mean it’s in the low budget category, however.) Local farms provide most of the ingredients. Appetizers of the day might be Jerusalem artichoke tart with Raschera cheese and black truffle cream or smoked duck with grapes and Grand Marnier-flavored tomatoes. Pastas range from veal tail-filled agnolotto on savoy cabbage and candied ginger to wild fennel lasagnetta with mountain snails and pecorino cheese.  Definitely creative.  A main dish could be suckling pig with apple puree, salt cod in cream, or, my choice, the veal with hazelnuts and truffles.  Featured wines are from the region’s great wineries. Then there are the desserts: warm hazelnut cake, coconut foam with chocolate and curry cream, and mine, bunet con pesche sciroppate. That roughly translates as chocolate pudding with peach syrup, which doesn’t begin to describe how luscious it is, rich melt-in-the-mouth chocolate under a drizzle of light peach sauce.

Ristorante al Castello is only part of the immense castle. Floors above it hold displays of traditional tools, handicrafts, and furnishings, and below is an enoteca (bar/tasting room/sales room). Every November, chefs worldwide come to the castle for the White Truffle Auction. That’s when the best of white truffles sell for sky-high prices.

I’m already looking forward to my next fine meal at Grinzane Cavour, along with  a taste of superb wine, a glimpse of history, and the pleasure of being in the vine-covered hills of the Italian countryside. The restaurant is closed Tuesdays and the month of January.

Shroud of Turin, A Mystery

I’m staring at Christianity’s holiest relic–a superb replica, actually–and I have to admit that all I see is a piece of very old cloth, 14 feet long. The real Shroud of Turin,  said to have been wrapped around Jesus’ body after his crucifixion, is stored in the city’s cathedral and rarely taken out for display.  The replica is in the Museum of the Shroud, on Via San Domenica, a short distance from the cathedral.

Believers have revered the Shroud (La Sindone) for centuries because it holds the faint imprint of what might be a crucified man, as well as blood stains, traces of wounds, and marks that could have been made by thorns. Whether you believe this is the real thing or not, the exhibition is one of Turin’s most intriguing places to visit. The Shroud replica lies in a clear case, and other displays explain the  travels, history and mystery of La Sindone. The cloth, Egyptian linen of a type used long ago, was apparently taken to Constantinople (today’s Istanbul, Turkey), disappeared during the Crusades, and showed up in 1353 in France.  Eventually it was owned by the Savoy rulers who brought it to Italy in the 16th century and finally gave it to the church on condition that it remain in Turin. And so it rests now in the cathedral, Duomo di San Giovanni, in a custom-built, airtight, bullet-proof, bacteria-proof case.

Over the years various scientific tests have been performed on the fabric. Every finding, on either side, is challenged. Nothing guarantees its authenticity–and nothing explains the imprint of the image.  It remains shrouded in mystery. My eyes still see only an ancient, stained cloth, but the enlargements and displays in the museum point it out clearly. If it’s a fake, it’s impressive. Even more impressive is its effect on the millions who hold it sacred.

Chocolate and Consolation in Turin, Italy

I came to Piazza la Consolata in Turin, Italy, because I had to taste a famous drink. Il bicerin is served at what may be the smallest cafe in Italy, a cozy place with 8 tables (double that in summer, when more are set outside on the old stone piazza). Caffe Al Bicerin opened in 1763, and not much has changed since then. Same counter and wrought iron, same kinds of pastries and chocolates. The shop windows and shleves are filled with jars of sweets, as they were more than 2 centuries ago, when aristocratic women swept in on Sundays after mass to refresh themselves. Like them, like Dumas, Nietzsche, Puccini, and Count Cavour (Council president of the first united Italian government) before me, I’m sitting at a marble-topped table and sipping something sublime. The mixture of espresso, chocolate, and cream is divinely rich, thick, and delicious. The cold layer of cream rests on the hot chocolate and coffee and I’m told you never stir it in, but drink the chocolate through the cream, mixing hot and cold, dwelling on each flavor as it slides over the tongue. You can get other drinks here, including teas, frappes, spumante, and Barolo, but I’ll come back for the bicerin.

If you need more consoling after that experience, cross the piazza to what I consider the most beautiful church interior in a city full of gorgeous churches and monuments. Santuario Basilica La Consolata is jaw-dropping splendid. Designed by architects Guarini and Juvarri in the 17th century, it combines Baroque and Italian Rococo styles. The Romanesque tower that was part of a previous church still stands on the right side of the Basilica. There’s a gorgeous marble floor and a high altar, dating from 1714, that is lavish with silver, marble, carvings and gilt. On one side stands a lovely silver Madonna and Child; this figure is paraded through Turin every June in recognition of the Virgin’s protection of the city. Most moving to me is a wall on a lower level that holds a huge ex-voto collection. These are drawings made by people asking for help or giving thanks for a miracle, whether it’s a motorcycle accident, an overturned tractor, a hospital scene, a battlefield, or other misery. It’s enough to make you light a candle and go have another bicerin.

Turin, Italy, Displays the World of Cinema

Mole Antonelliana is an odd structure.  Here in the heart of an ancient city in northern Italy, a city best known as the home of the Shroud of Turn and the Fiat automobile, is a huge building with columns, a curved roof, and a skinny spire on top. It is the city symbol, and it’s dedicated to cinema. The monument started in 1863, when the Jewish community of Turin (Torino in Italian) hired architect Antonio Antonelli to design a synagogue. What with one problem and another, it didn’t work out, and Turin had a white elephant on its hands. Various ideas were tried, and one stuck: a temple to film. The National Cinema Museum is 167 meters high (or maybe 164, I haven’t personally measured it) and said to be the tallest museum in the world. Since it opened in 2000 it has drawn thousands of film buffs–and many who just like movies and offbeat museums.

That’s why I’m here in Mole Antonelliana, leaning back in a red lounge chair, gazing at a slice of an old Clint Eastwood Western. It’s playing in one of the many alcoves that show flickering American, European, and other films. I catch a glimpse of Charlie Chaplin inside an alcove like an open, yellow refrigerator. Marilyn Monroe, in an outtake from The Misfits, is behind a bar that resembles Caffe Torino, a traditional local restaurant. Off to the side is an enormous, fierce creature that must be an idol from a vintage film, and in another corner there’s a furnished living room complete with a TV from the 1950s. In the center of the big, darkened hall a translucent elevator speeds visitors up to the top floor, where the view of the city, the River Po, and, on a clear day, the Alps on the horizon, is spectacular. This is the best place to go for a grand view.

In Mole Antonelliana (named for the architect), you can wander through the history of cinema and see graphic displays, photographs, posters, old TV shows, and many movie segments highlighting milestones in cinematography.  There are ads, recordings, and a library of more than 7,000 films dating from the earliest days to the present.  The sophisticated technology uses a software system to keep everything going; and once a day it aligns projectors so movies will fit with the daily curtain-raising. For 20 minutes, sunlight floods in to show off the building.  The museum’s website, though it’s slow and less than informative, gives you a feel for the place.

In keeping with its city symbol and love of film, Turin holds an annual international film festival, second largest in Italy after the Venice Film Festival, in late November. This year it’s honoring the director Robert Altman, who was an Oscar nominee 7 times and received an honorary Oscar a few months before he died, at age 81, in 2006. More than 40 of his films will be shown at the festival, plus TV programs from his 50-year career. The festival is held in Turin theaters, with a photo exhibition in Mole Antonelliana.

Copyright 2011 Marilyn McFarlane

Raspberry Wine and Tunnel Tomatoes in Whatcom County

Wine and food and Whatcom County go oh-so-well together. Unexpected treasures keep showing up here in the green fields outside Bellingham, in northwestern Washington. A few: lush tomato plants in long tunnels, cherry trees growing at an angle under a roof, hazelnut wine, 200 varieties of heirloom apples. Hardy pomegranate and olive trees are on their way. Amazing. In a big Rainier cherry grove, at Cloud Mountain Farm, trees are planted at an angle, rather than upright, so the pinkish-red fruits will hang lower and can be picked more easily. They’re under cover as protection from hungry birds and skin-splitting rain, which even now spatters on the clear roof. The cherries are huge and sweet (I know this because I snitched one. Delicious.) There’s only one other grove like it in the U.S., I’m told. Further up the path on Cloud Mountain’s 20-acre farm, another translucent shelter houses tunnels of tomato plants.  In this green spicy-scented jungle, 20 varieties of tomatoes ripen, most to be sold through farmers’ markets and restaurants.

The nursery, 20 miles from Bellingham, sells fruit and nut trees, berry plants, ornamental shrubs, dwarf conifers, Japanese maples, grapevines, tools, books and supplies. Working with Western Washington University and Seattle College, they perform all kinds of botanical tests and trials. Edgy experimenting, I call it, when you plan to grow olive trees in damp, cool Washington. If anyone can do it, Cloud Mountain can, and I have no doubt they will. Visitors are welcome, especially at various free workshops, cooking classes, and the annual fruit festival in early October.

Samson Estates Winery is also about 20 miles from Bellingham, but it’s a whole different experience. On the 500-acre spread in Nooksack Valley, Rob and Dhar Dhaliwal have created a unique farm and winery. Their large, juicy raspberries are headed mostly for Ocean Spray and Smuckers jam jars, but some, combined with Chardonnay grapes, produce a fine wine. It’s perfect with, for example, a between-courses cantaloupe sorbet. Our little group gathers around a table to taste a few Samson’s wines and feast on a lunch prepared by Fool’s Onion Catering. Here’s the menu, or part of it: First, pancetta-wrapped scallops with vanilla beurre blanc, served with a delicate, citrusy Chardonnay. Then grilled salmon with wild mushroom risotto, a delectable dish that goes well with the earthy, full-bodied Cabernet franc. Herbed gnocchi gets a Merlot ’04, followed by the refresher of framboise (raspberry) wine with sorbet.  Are we done yet? No, here’s a cocoa-chile rubbed duck breast with blackberry coulis, accompanied by a fruity, not-too-sweet blackberry wine. We all insist we can’t eat another bite, but dessert arrives and suddenly it’s no problem. The chocolate torte with roasted hazelnut crust is outstanding with a taste of Oro, a hazelnut wine that is almost a liqueur.  Lance Bailey and Kristine Kager, creators of Fool’s Onion, make a superb culinary team. Any time I’m in the area and need someone to cater a party or dinner, I’m calling them.  Did I mention the truffles? If you’ll stop drooling on your keyboard, I’ll tell you about Samson’s chocolate truffles. Made locally using Belgian chocolate and Samson Estate wines, they melt in the mouth: chocolate as smooth and rich as it was meant to be.

Shucking Oysters, Slicing Geoducks

I used to loathe oysters–slimy, gray, icky things, cooked or, God forbid, raw. So here I am at Taylor Shellfish Farms, on beautiful Samish Bay, Washington, at an outdoor table with three Pacific oysters set before me, and I’m expected to open their hard, craggy shells, scoop them out, and presumably eat them. Not sure I’m up to this, but I grab my knife, as do the other wary novices in aprons. This may get a bit goopy.

The shells have already been scrubbed to remove mud, dirt and algae. As instructed, I jab the knife into a small opening, push harder, feel for the right spot, and twist. Now I have to sever the top abductor muscle, whatever that is. I find something muscle-like, scrape it, and lift the top shell. As it hinges open, lo and behold, there’s an oyster, slick and briny in its liquid bed. A little worse for the wear, and no pearl, but I’m ready to attack the next one. By the third, I’ve got a system going and I’m a fairly deft shucker, if slow and messy. (To see how the experts do it in an annual competition, check this on youtube.)  Now for the fun part: eating these glistening globs of sealife. I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and bravely chomp. Wow, the oyster fans are right. Pillowy, salty, cold, succulent, it’s delicious. Meanwhile, other oysters have been cooking on the barbecue, and they’re tasty too. A good white wine adds to the pleasure, so Taylor Shellfish Farms holds an annual wine competition for Oyster Awards.

Taylor, a family-owned, 4th-generation company, grows and harvests lots of bounty from the cold waters of the Pacific Northwest: several kinds of oysters, mussels, clams, and geoducks.  They have 8 locations; this one, south of Bellingham, is open daily to visitors. You can buy charcoal here, pick up fresh oysters, and have a barbecue right by the bay. Or come to a festive event such as the Bivalve Bash, held every July, and be prepared for hilarity.  The bash features a low tide mud run, shell sculpture competition (no shortage here–note the lighthouse made of shells), oyster bar, beer garden, face painting, and oyster-shucking contests. Plus music and dancing.

Now we deal with the geoducks, strange-looking 2-pound mollusks that are subject to many a crude joke. In China they are sometimes called “elephant trunks,” and it’s easy to see why. Geoducks are difficult to produce, can only be farmed in super-clean water, and take 4 to 7 years to reach harvest level.  Some grow to 15 pounds, the largest clams in the northern hemisphere. Before my eyes a pro dunks a geoduck into simmering water for a few seconds, pulls it out, slicks off a translucent skin, and starts razoring ultra-thin slices from the “trunk.” She arranges the slices on a plate, and we’ve got sushi that could not be any fresher and tastes light and sweet, with a delicate texture.  Good stuff, as people in Asia know–half of Taylor Farms’ geoducks are shipped there.  Now I know, too, after this royal feast.

Chicago Architecture, the River View

Trump Tower

The architecture in downtown Chicago is amazingly diverse. “These buildings have a natural relationship to each other,” says Wayne, our docent, guide, jokester, and general Chi expert. “The styles talk to each other.”

We’re gawking and admiring from the Chicago River, as we glide through the city on The First Lady, a cruise boat for the Chicago Architecture Foundation. We started at DuSable Harbor (tip: park in the DuSable Harbor parking lot, under Lakeshore Drive at Randolph Street–$20 for all day, and you’re a short walk from Lake Michigan and the River Walk).  We’ve had a fine lunch of grilled shrimp and tropical chicken salad at the Friendship Cafe, where Asian food is a specialty and outdoor tables offer good people- and boat-watching.  (Another tip: Choose iced tea only if you like bottled diet Snapple).  The cafe has live jazz on Sunday afternoons and Friday and Saturday evenings.

Aboard the First Lady, we sail by famous skyscrapers, from the classic Renaissance-style Wrigley Building to Trump Tower, the tallest all-concrete building in the world. Wayne describes the different styles: Art Deco, International Modern, Post-Modern, and others.  Now I know what adaptive re-use is–a fancy term for recycling, as far as I can tell, fixing up an old building  for modern use. I also know that Chicago has the most bridges (57) of any city in North America,  a 90-mile tunnel system, and more boat slips than any other U.S. city.  I learn that the Chicago River runs backward; instead of flowing into Lake Michigan (6th largest lake in the world) and polluting the region’s drinking water, it was dredged in the early 1900s so it would flow toward the Mississippi. “The river has been upgraded from toxic to highly polluted. Don’t eat the fish,” Wayne says with a wry grin, and adds, “They’re working on it, though.”

Curving walls echo the curves of the river as we glide down the north, south, and main branches of the river, passing people strolling and bicycling on the tree-lined walkway or sitting at outdoor cafes. Wayne is a fount of information on his beloved city.  The Aqua at Lakeshore East is the tallest building in the U.S. designed by an architectural firm headed by a woman. The Sears Tower, once the tallest in the world, is now the Willis Tower. Buildings stand on the air rights of railroads. Chicago has the most “green roofs” in the U.S., incentives to encourage environmentally sound development.

At the end of the 90-minute tour, we feel educated, entertained, and more than a little awed by the variety and imagination that went into Chicago’s architecture. It’s a marvel, and the best way to see it is on a river cruise. (May through November, $35.)

Fabulous Ice Cream and the Biggest Brewpub in America

A peek behind the scenes is one of the pleasures of being a travel writer; I get to see bakers, beer brewers and ice cream makers at work, accomplishing their wizardry. In the spotlessly clean production area at Mallard Ice Cream, in Bellingham, Washington, I’m watching them churn out ice cream in 5-gallon batches. They use a traditional salt-and-ice freezer and add real food: ripe local fruits, coffees, teas, spices, herbs, and about 2,000 pounds a year of locally grown strawberries. Only the root beer and licorice are made with added flavorings. The 18% cream base mix comes from an organic dairy. In summer months, Mallard sells 300 gallons a week of the sweet, cold stuff and experiments constantly with flavors. I’m tasting a few samples–well, more than a few–and each one is delicious and far above ordinary. Avocado, lime, ginger, rose, espresso, basil and cinnamon are good, if unusual,  but even the basic strawberry is special.  After careful study I’m settling on the Belgian Super Chocolate as my favorite. So far. I’ll try the tamarind/apricot/cayenne combination next time.

First,  I hope to learn a few secrets of professional bread-making at Avenue Bread, another popular Bellingham company. Watching  experts knead heaps of dough on wide wooden tables, I can already tell this is beyond me, though fascinating to observe. Avenue bread is extra-tasty in part because they rely on natural starters more than commercial yeast, and the hand-shaped loaves rise slowly to allow the grain flavors to develop. Then the loaves go into a stone-hearth oven, and the whole place smells like–well, fresh-baked bread, and what has a better aroma than that? Avenue bakes some 2,000 loaves every weekday, and 3-4,000 on weekends. They supply restaurants and markets and have 3 bakery cafes where you can buy soups, salads, and sandwiches made from that terrific bread.  I’m fond of the rosemary loaf, especially when it’s hollowed out and filled with smoked salmon chowder from Boundary Bay Brewery.

Boundary Bay is the largest brewpub in the U.S. (according to the Brewers Association), with 16-18 beers brewed on the Railroad Ave. site. House brews include Dry Irish Stout, Bellingham Blonde, Best Bitter (ESB), Scotch, Imperial Stout, IPA, and Amber. The brewery has an indoor pub, a porch with picnic-style tables, and an outdoor tented area with a stage, often used for charity fund-raisers. The atmosphere is lively and casual, the service friendly, the food good.

Here’s where the chowder comes in: Boundary Bay makes a superb salmon chowder, which I’m eating (second helping) from a rosemary bread bowl while sailing on the Shawmanee, a 65-foot charter ketch. The boat’s owners, Don and Kathy Beattie, offer sailing trips for up to 46 people, and one is the Wednesday Chowder Sail, a 3-hour sunset sail around Bellingham Bay.

The Chowder Sail only happens in summer, but the Shawmanee  hosts many other trips on Northwest waters. It has comfortable seating and a spacious below-deck cabin, and the Beatties’ hospitality is second to none.

Fairhaven For Fine Food, Hospitality

Fairhaven Historic District, in Bellingham, Washington, is only 6 blocks long, but it’s packed with great places to shop, wander, eat and drink.  I’m starting at Fairhaven Village Inn,

on 10th Street, a block from Bellingham Bay. This 22-room hotel combines modern amenities with old-fashioned hospitality and spirit. There’s an inviting lobby, a cozy library with book-lined shelves, coffee and tea on the sideboard, and freshly baked cookies set out every afternoon. My 3rd-floor room has a fireplace, balcony with a view of the bay, and comfortable bed. But the best thing is the service. Gene and Connie Shannon, the owners, set the tone, and everyone on the staff welcomes you with a  smile and is eager to help. Not to get too effusive, but really, the attitude here is exceptional and worth the notice.

As I set out with friends to see what makes Fairhaven special, I skip the hotel breakfast (they call it Continental, but it’s much more: cereals, fruit, yogurt, eggs, toast, pastries) in favor of trying Magdalena’s Creperie next door. I didn’t think I was fond of Polish pierogis and beet soup, certainly not for breakfast, but I’m a fan now. Magdalena, a native of Poland, cooks traditional and updated dishes that bring in the crowds. She’s not in today, but clearly she has taught her staff well.  My feast includes a sugar-dusted crepe with Greek yogurt granola, and fresh fruit; pierogi (a kind of dumpling) with potatoes and cheese filling, topped with caramelized onions; a savory crepe with pork and fig jam; and a little tart filled with mascarpone cheese and blueberries. I get a few other tastes too, and it’s all fantastic; I can’t choose a favorite. Tinh Hsien (crepe-maker), Callie Christeson (server), and Marguerite Crooks (manager/chef) take good care of our hungry group.

Such a meal calls for a stroll around the neighborhood. Fairhaven, with its restored Victorians and red-brick buildings old and new, has moved on from its hippie days of tie-dyed t-shirts and beads I recall from years ago, but it still has a laid-back attitude. New businesses have moved in, and now it’s a trendy, cool place to go in Bellingham, with festivals on the Village Green, a summer Farmers Market, a sprawling book store that serves desserts and coffee, inviting boutiques, and did I mention food? It’s time for lunch.

The Table started as a fresh pasta provider and still delivers it right from the kitchen, mostly by bicycle, to local grocers and restaurants. The restaurant’s menu offers intriguing combinations, and from what I’m observing, they all work. The specialty is still fresh pasta. An example: lemon & pepper linguine with arugula/basil/hazelnut pesto, roasted garlic, caramelized onion, kale, carrots and romano cheese. My dish of penne pasta with a delicate sauce of butternut squash, sage and almonds, is terrific.  Dessert will have to wait for next time. I need a rest.

Bistro San Martin, Washington’s Hidden Gem

In Seattle it’s not a surprise to come across a fabulous restaurant serving great cuisine. I don’t expect it 47 miles north, in the little town of Arlington, Washington. Here it is, though, Bistro San Martin, and I’m enjoying well-prepared, creative dishes served perfectly. I’m not questioning, just happily indulging. The chef/owner, Martin Estrada-Perez, left Mexico several years ago and worked for other restaurants before opening this one in 2005. Wearing a high hat with pheasant feathers stuck in the brim, he moves around the open kitchen, stirring sauces and tossing chopped garlic with a sure hand, occasionally flashing a smile at rapt customers. His assistant Olga helps keep the kitchen running smoothly, and his co-worker and general manager, Steve Van Matre, takes care of the busy room, stopping at each table with a friendly greeting. The word is out; the bistro, with a menu that’s expensive for the area, is full on a week night.

First comes an amuse-bouche, compliments of the house: two crispy won-tons topped with a smidge of guacamole and a tomato/onion relish. Then my friend Myrna and I share an appetizer, a twist on insalata caprese — oven-roasted tomatoes with fresh herbs, goat cheese, olive oil, and a balsamic infusion. It goes well with warm bread and a glass of Columbia Valley Sauvignon blanc.  Next time I’ll try the house specialty, mushroom puff pastry, a wonderfully rich combination of local mushrooms, garlic and herbs, served in pastry with a brandy cream sauce. The escargots and Dungeness crab cakes beg to be tasted, too.

My Caesar salad with grilled prawns is classic and excellent (spendy–$5 for 3 prawns?–but perfect).  Myrna’s poached pear salad is a melange of greens, pears in red wine, Cambozola cheese, and toasted hazelnuts. Main dishes range from $16.50 for tiger prawns linguini to $34.50 for filet mignon wrapped with bacon, topped with roasted onion and bleu cheese butter, and served with mashed potatoes and vegetables. That sounds rich enough to make the cholesterol level take notice.  I’ll more likely order the roasted half-duckling with Bing cherries, almond couscous, and vegies. Even then I’ll take half of it home.

When you eat here, do not neglect the desserts, all made in-house by Chef Martin. They vary. Examples are lemon creme brulee, panna cotta with honey-caramel and Almond Roca, and vanilla mousse cake with fresh fruit and almonds. The cake is light and delicate, a final sweet touch to a great meal. However, my plan for the next visit is to save room for “Naughty Chocolate Cake,” dark mousse on a fudgy crust, with a chocolate coating and the whole treat spiced with a dash of cayenne. Now that’s chocolate.

Bistro San Martin has a full bar and  selection of wines from around the world, favoring Pacific NW labels. A few are available by the glass.