This past weekend, Ellen and I drove to Istria (about 2 1/2 hours from Zagreb) where we stayed with her friends, Allen and Mihaela. They should be poster children for the Istrian lifestyle. They live in an incredible (a word I might overuse) house perched on the side of a mountain above the village of Livade, which is the home of the Istrian truffle king.
It took Allen and Mihaela years to restore the house and, boy, did their efforts pay off. Their terrace overlooks a spectacular valley facing Motovun ("motovoon"), a medieval hilltop town that is one of Istria's top sightseeing attractions. Below the house, sloping down the hill are terraces of olive trees and grape vines.
We arrived late Saturday afternoon and were greeted with a glass of fresh (literally) white wine that Allen had bought that morning from one of the local wineries. It was the first of his 2010 vintage of malvazija, the crisp, fruity white that Istria is known for.
That was followed by fresh bread, dunked in their homemade olive oil with their home brined olives to munch on. Then, there was grilled fresh fish (bought that morning), asparagus (just coming into season) risotto and mushroom casserole. All of this was served on the terrace which has a view that (have I said?) is incredible. Allen and Mihaela say that there are other houses next to and below them that have better views, to which I say, not bloody likely.
The next morning, there was a mist in the valley which made Motovun look like it was floating.
After breakfast, Ellen and I set off for some sightseeing. We parked the car and hiked up the hill to Motovun. Like Dubrovnik, the main attraction is walking the wall and taking in the incredible (there's that word again) vistas.
Aside from nature's gifts, Istria reeks of its mixed Italian-Croatian legacy that accounts for the importance of food and wine. All the towns have both Croatian and Italian names, e.g., Motovun/Montona. It was also the Italian connection that caused Tito, who disliked Italy, to more or less ignore Istria during the communist period, sparing it from the oppressive architecture that afflicts other areas in Croatia. And, because Istria is a triangular peninsula jutting into the Adriatic, from almost anywhere, you are a short drive from either mountains or sea.
After Motovun, we drove another twisting, windy road to Oprtalij, another picturesque town that for some reason has not caught on with the tourists yet. Here there are nearly as many crumbling walls overgrown with vines as there are restored houses.
In Oprtalij, we met Allen and Mihaela, whom we followed to Zrenj for lunch at Paolo's agrotourism. Agrotourisms, which you can find all over Istria, are generally b & b's and/or restaurants. The restaurants are open only few days a week and serve a set menu which must consist of at least 80% homegrown ingredients in order to be called an agrotourism. Our meal featured truffles, the local delicacy. Istria challenges Italy and France for the title of truffle capital of the world. The mushroom like tubers grow entirely underground around the roots of oak trees where they must be sniffed out by specially trained dogs. The truffle king in Livade once held the world record for the largest white truffle ever unearthed. It weighed nearly 3 pounds and is memorialized by a stone statue, which looks a bit like a model of a brain, in the town's only traffic circle.
Paolo served us homemade white wine and bread. Homemade cheese covered with homemade olive oil onto which truffle was grated, followed by homemade, fresh tagliatelle with olive oil, homegrown garlic and more truffles.
The day was topped off by ice cream in Groznjan, another hilltop village, revitalized recently by a migration of artists. It is now known as "the city of artists of Croatia."
Believe it or not, there is more to come.
It took Allen and Mihaela years to restore the house and, boy, did their efforts pay off. Their terrace overlooks a spectacular valley facing Motovun ("motovoon"), a medieval hilltop town that is one of Istria's top sightseeing attractions. Below the house, sloping down the hill are terraces of olive trees and grape vines.
We arrived late Saturday afternoon and were greeted with a glass of fresh (literally) white wine that Allen had bought that morning from one of the local wineries. It was the first of his 2010 vintage of malvazija, the crisp, fruity white that Istria is known for.
That was followed by fresh bread, dunked in their homemade olive oil with their home brined olives to munch on. Then, there was grilled fresh fish (bought that morning), asparagus (just coming into season) risotto and mushroom casserole. All of this was served on the terrace which has a view that (have I said?) is incredible. Allen and Mihaela say that there are other houses next to and below them that have better views, to which I say, not bloody likely.
The next morning, there was a mist in the valley which made Motovun look like it was floating.
After breakfast, Ellen and I set off for some sightseeing. We parked the car and hiked up the hill to Motovun. Like Dubrovnik, the main attraction is walking the wall and taking in the incredible (there's that word again) vistas.
Aside from nature's gifts, Istria reeks of its mixed Italian-Croatian legacy that accounts for the importance of food and wine. All the towns have both Croatian and Italian names, e.g., Motovun/Montona. It was also the Italian connection that caused Tito, who disliked Italy, to more or less ignore Istria during the communist period, sparing it from the oppressive architecture that afflicts other areas in Croatia. And, because Istria is a triangular peninsula jutting into the Adriatic, from almost anywhere, you are a short drive from either mountains or sea.
After Motovun, we drove another twisting, windy road to Oprtalij, another picturesque town that for some reason has not caught on with the tourists yet. Here there are nearly as many crumbling walls overgrown with vines as there are restored houses.
In Oprtalij, we met Allen and Mihaela, whom we followed to Zrenj for lunch at Paolo's agrotourism. Agrotourisms, which you can find all over Istria, are generally b & b's and/or restaurants. The restaurants are open only few days a week and serve a set menu which must consist of at least 80% homegrown ingredients in order to be called an agrotourism. Our meal featured truffles, the local delicacy. Istria challenges Italy and France for the title of truffle capital of the world. The mushroom like tubers grow entirely underground around the roots of oak trees where they must be sniffed out by specially trained dogs. The truffle king in Livade once held the world record for the largest white truffle ever unearthed. It weighed nearly 3 pounds and is memorialized by a stone statue, which looks a bit like a model of a brain, in the town's only traffic circle.
Paolo served us homemade white wine and bread. Homemade cheese covered with homemade olive oil onto which truffle was grated, followed by homemade, fresh tagliatelle with olive oil, homegrown garlic and more truffles.
The day was topped off by ice cream in Groznjan, another hilltop village, revitalized recently by a migration of artists. It is now known as "the city of artists of Croatia."
Believe it or not, there is more to come.
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