I know it’s obvious but bloody hell, the food and drink in Italy just floors me every time. Today it’s Trieste, that ancient port city that hooks off the main peninsula’s north-east. I wasn’t sure if Trieste, historically part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire for 600 years until after World War I and deeply embedded in mittel-Europe geographically, would share the pan-Italy ‘perspective’ on food that I believe make it harder to be disappointed by mediocrity.
Maybe it’s the reverence and mythology around Italian food that has been so prevalent in food culture in my lifetime, but I like to believe in Italy, and my first impressions on Italian food have stuck. I first passed through Italy flying into Bergamo in the north (Piedmont) and catching a train up to Switzerland to meet my dad, step-mother and her family. The train involved four connections, and at one of these I went over to the 1950s- station bar/cafe and ordered a grilled eggplant panino and a coffee. The eggplant had been marinated and grilled to tenderness and worked harmoniously with a mild mountain cheese in thin crisp bread in the grill. The coffee was perfect. Even in New Zealand where food is pretty good now, you still need to be a bit selective in seeking out quality – you don’t generally stumble upon it in ordinary working railway station cafes.
In Trieste I was expecting interesting influences of Austrian/Slovenian/Hungarian/Italian and had heard about a Trieste pork stew much like goulash served with Italy’s Po valley staple, polenta – an obvious meeting of culinary cultures. I had also heard about the fine pastry tradition and elegant, archly intellectual Viennese style coffee houses, the places that writers like Irish émigré to the city James Joyce was fond of 100 years ago.
We entered Italy through Slovenia and have accommodation in Banne, an affluent hilltop town perched above Trieste and reachable by an early 20th Century tram offering incredible city and sea views. The architecture is a splendid baroque with open piazzas and hidden alleyways.
Actually I didn’t try the pork stew. It was hot and we ended up sampling treats as we wandered through the city.
At an old-fashioned sweet shops we sampled marzipan and crème cakes; at the fruit shop we were greeted by beautifully tended and displayed produce and a seriously proud shopkeeper who after selling us juicy plump apricots chucked in vast handfuls of perfect cherries for our daughter Milly. The coffee at the hotel in Banne and in the cafes in town was excellent, and gelateria were everywhere, including one shop ‘chocolat’ whose selection was purely in monochrome style flavours from coconut and white chocolate to deep dark Vahlrona. There were a number of local breads like brioche or challah. These were fine, but not worth seeking out particularly. Finally local prosecco served in one of the many bars by the viaduct was delicious and reasonably priced.
It was a fleeting visit, I wish I’d tried some localised Trieste cuisine, but at least I can report that Italian quality is alive here.
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