A Taste of Paradise

On Rosh Hashana, the Jewish new year, my mother, like many other Jews, bakes her challah into coiled circles representing the cycle of life, the new year beginning, our next rotation around the sun…

After blessing the sweet cylindrical bread, Ima tears the loaf into pieces (avoiding the touch of a knife to the sacred loaves because these instruments also have the potential to harm). We eagerly reach for the best pieces – shiny golden on the outside and soft, fluffy dough on the inside – and passionately smear butter on our torn pieces of yeasty treasure. The required next step in this process is dripping the honey from our apple and honey ritual (another symbol of fertility, the round planet, the “head of the year”).  The final stage of this collective culinary experience is my father inevitably saying, year after year, “mmmmm…this is a taste of the garden of Eden.” The unofficial yet religiously practiced ritual is not complete without this statement.

And it is indeed the most heavenly combination filling your mouth – the creaminess of the butter, warm yeastiness of the fresh baked golden challah, and tart sweetness of the honey. You feel like you are glowing from the inside. If paradise can be imagined as a place of total harmony, simple goodness, and comfort, this is how it would taste.

I thought of this famous family idiom miles away from home while having possibly the most magical meal of my life at Al Paradiso, an elegant trattoria tucked into a cluster of old, partially crumbling stone buildings surrounded by cornfields in the Friulian countryside.

Federica, our host, had become famous in my household as the talented creator of Basil Liver Soup (a delightful translation slip-up that took place during an email exchange with my father as she generously shared the recipe for the simple, bright, silky soup my parents have now recreated and shared many times). My parents had waited and planned for ten years to bring us here, to share with us the magical culinary experience that had so deeply impacted them on their first voyage here.

Ima & Abba happily returned to their beloved trattoria,  Al Paradiso

We were seated on the terazza at a round table with white tablecloth and green velvet runner (velvet on the table felt like a generous dedication to beauty over concern for the risk of spillage). The centerpiece was a large glass vessel filled with water, and floating orange roses matching the orange stones delicately strewn around the table. Our view through the white curtains was bright blue and white hydrangea bushes and bright red geranium growing on a stone building with wooden shutters that must have been the restaurant’s wine cellar and storage. We sipped sparkling water out of delicate blown glass cups (no effort was spared in the details of this paradise) and were welcomed by Federica in a traditional medieval Friulian country dress perfectly coordinated with the colors of our table setting.  Since my parents met Federica years ago, she’s had two children, both of whom hovered around her while her mama and papa served our meal alongside her.

The context inspired Abba to play around with redefining fusion cooking – understanding it as a dining experience carefully cultivated to integrate and satisfy multiple senses and forms of enjoyment – the aesthetics of the table, the lighting, the sounds and smells, the texture and temperature of the foods, the relationship and interactions between those making and serving the food and those enjoying it, the libations and their origins and pairings, the history and energy of a place.

The amuse bouche was ravioli fritti ripieni con melanzane (fried ravioli stuffed with eggplant) with a wonderful red pepper sauce (something like romesco?). We then moved on to fiori du zucchine ripieni di ricotta (zucchini flowers stuffed with ricotta) served in a beautiful zucchine cream and crispy puff pastry with capriolo cheese perfumed with aromatic herbs.

The soup was prepared specifically for us in honor of our parents’ deep appreciation and excitement. It was, of course, the revered crema di basilico con sfoglia di polenta (meaning cream of basil soup with amazingly thin and crsipy polenta on the side). My parents were thrilled by the surprise addition of a tiny patate e carrote timbalo in the middle (a small, round-shaped mold of baked potato and carrot). Then we devoured the pacchetti pasta filled with marjoram and fonduta di montasio cheese and tomatoes. Seeing as this was a vegetarian meal sweetly prepared specifically for my family, the secondi in this epic banquet was gnocchi with patate and wild herbs topped with crumbled fried parmigiano. (Our carb-loving family was up for the traditional flow of an Italian meal involving pasta as a warm up for what in this meat free situation was yet another even bigger pasta!). Then there was also a poached egg (yeah!) atop al dente veggies (celery, carrots, kale) covered with potato creme.

With each course Federica spent time with us, telling us everything we wanted to know about every dish and its ingredients. She also carefully selected and presented a different wine with each course, the most ephemeral whites, an orange wine, dessert wines, all from the region.  Dessert was creme mille feuille with “coffee caviar”!

By this point I was happily floating in a dream-like state, induced by the quaint, fantastical surroundings, the sensuality of the food, Federica’s grace and wisdom, and, of course, the many bottles of bright, crisp, complex, smooth, and then ultimately sweet wines. (In Italy, local is a designation very precisely and carefully applied. Often I would ask if I could try a local wine and I would be pointed towards a wine with the apologetic disclaimer that it wasn’t local but it was made in the next town over and would that be okay?)

The only thing that tainted the blissful gift of this meal was Federica’s sadness, subtle and balanced by her graciousness, but still present. She was clearly feeling discouraged. When asked about where she sourced her eggs from, she complained about regulations that actually prevent her from obtaining fresh eggs from nearby farmers, providing a small and concrete example of the ways in which Italy’s food system is being industrialized and privileges large producers and agribusiness, while undermining small, local producers.  She expressed how difficult it is for her to run a restaurant, making the kind of food she believes in and the kind of environment she wants to create.

So as many Americans are (re)discovering food (kind of like how Columbus “discovered” America), and tend to romanticize Italian cuisine and its local and slow food tradition, our systems and corporations are undermining and poisoning it.

Sitting at Federica’s table was a joyous privilege. To borrow Tamasin Day-Lewis‘ description of a restaurant in England that had the same effect on her: “Everything was done properly with the finest ingredients from start to finish, without ever being too rich, too much, too pretentious…” It was one of the most elevated, gourmet meals I’ve ever had. Not a single detail of the evening was anything but perfect, and the experience was served to us with genuine glowing humility and grace. This Rosh Hashana, I will dedicate my first bite of buttered challah dripping with honey to Al Paradiso, a magical haven gifted to the world by a small family who knows how to serve food that gives you a taste of the Garden of Eden.

**Thankfully, my sister Shalva, the Diva of Details, took the pictures for this post and Ima diligently recorded every menu item, even making sure to ask Federica about the types of cheese in each dish. Otherwise, my compromised memory would not have been able to do this experience justice.  And speaking of my community-supported writing process, Naomi, my partner in crime, is responsible for this and most of my posts being readable and well-constructed.

2 thoughts on “A Taste of Paradise

  1. It is an extremely significant trait to be appreciative of ALL kinds of beauty in our world, and it is an extremely fortunate trait to have the gift of being able to put that appreciation into just the most perfect words. This little word/photo journey to “paradise” was so moving, so inspiring, so full of heart. It was a tiny “mind vacation” to Italia. Thanks so much, Ora ( and Shalva and Naomi!.) luz- ima

  2. This is Abba writing……

    I have never cried when reading a travel article, restaurant review, menu or recipe until now. The evening Ora describes has rooted itself deeply in all of us as a captivating and enlightening metaphor for beauty, tastiness, friendliness, family, fun, creativity, concern, hope and delayed gratification–ten years we waited for crying out loud!

    There was risk involved as there always is when we tell folks of how great something is, talk and talk about it and tell them they will see for themselves. Kathy and I, frankly, had no doubt. However, even we were blown away with the entire experience as Ora describes and Shalva displays with her photos.

    For Kathy and me to be able to have this experience with our three daughters after looking forward to it for so long falls into the category of what we call, “barukh HaShem.” Or, “thank
    G-d and praise the ‘Lord.'” Truly, it was a transcendent evening where time was irrelevant and space literally infused the food as it did our hearts, minds and now our memories.

    Our moans and sighs of delight quickly became the lingua franca for the evening and each one of us became fluent from the first sip and bite. Our eye contact and facial expressions became part of the fusion of flavor and family. Federica and her family embraced us as family and their love for what they do and for making people feel how we felt was, if there is such a thing, the magic and secret ingredient in every course and morsel.

    Few Americans visit Friuli. It is only an hour north of Venice and a short drive to beautiful beaches on the Adriatic, fascinating historic and interesting sites and of course, all those charming and romantic Italian towns. You can take short ferry rides to Slovenia and Croatia and Trieste is less than an hour drive away.

    There is a most wonderful agriturismo place to stay run by Georgio whose family has owned Tenuta Regina since the 1930’s. Georgio is warm, welcoming, helpful and knows local food and excellent local food restaurants. Ten years ago, he turned us on to Al Paridiso and has other dining experiences to recommend but Al Paridiso is the jewel in the crown. Tenuta Regina is a comfortable, pleasant and fun place to stay: air conditioning, swimming pool, breakfast on the veranda, bikes and sweet cats and kittens to play with.

    Kathy and I would love to connect you to Federica and Georgio and lovingly twist your arm to spend time in Friuli and treat yourself to the type of experience Ora shares. It is no exaggeration. Believe it or not, she may have understated it a little or, as beautifully as she writes, there may be no words to thoroughly capture it all.

    For ten years we thought that when we would take our “girls” to Al Paridiso we could then check it off the list. This, however, has not proven to be the case. When I think that I will never experience an evening with my family at Al Paridiso again I become very sad. When I hope and pray that I will, my heart fills and my soul soars.

    Our rabbis said that as much as we will be held accountable for enjoying forbidden pleasures in this world when we are alive, we will be held accountable for not enjoying permitted pleasures. We have been blessed twice to have had the wherewithal to visit Friuli and enjoy Al Paridiso. Anyone who can and does not will unquestionably be in big trouble for missing a most permitted pleasure that creates such thankfulness for people being created that they can cook like this, provide their food in such beauty and make it all happen with warmth and love.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s