Hiking in the Dolomites

The Dolomites

One summer a group of friends invited us to go hiking in the Dolomites.  There were about 10 children and 10 adults.  Two couples owned chalets and vacationed there every year.  We had a furnished apartment with one bedroom, a living/dining/kitchen combo and a loft for the children.  Beside the building was an open area and a playground for kids. 

Everyday we loaded everyone up and headed for the mountains.  We picked a different destination each day.  In the morning we hiked up to a summit, ate lunch and came down by a different path.  I loved this vacation.  We were outside, breathing the clean mountain air, getting exercise,  communing with nature and with each other.  As we hiked we had discussions about everything from politics, philosophy to  parenting and recipes.

Vincent and the 3 bambini.  Up, up and away.

I remember one discussion about the large number of Italians who had left Italy to begin a new life in the US.  I think we were discussing the “American Dream”  “il sogno americano.”  But this fellow kept repeating to me L’America è qui!  L’America è qui!  America is here!  He was saying that you don’t need to leave Italy to make your dreams come true.  With hard work and a purpose you can achieve your dreams, right here, in Italy. That probably is true for northern Italians.  With a robust industrial economy and rich, fertile land, the North provides jobs and growth.  The area south of Rome is mountainous and arid.  It has one of the lowest standards of living in Europe.  This has been true for 100 years and explains why many southern Italians left to find their fortune in America or elsewhere.

Sometimes we took a téléférique.

A family portrait.

As we hiked, the children were amazing.  They never complained because there were other kids to play with.  They never seemed to get tired.  When we got back to our apartment at the end of the day, we were ready to collapse and they wanted to go downstairs and run around.

The boys are playing with some toy, not tired yet.

Most days the Italian picnic lunch was a frittata panini.  They made a frittata with zucchini, potatoes, cheese or what ever.  When it was cool it was cut into pieces and put inside a crispy roll. It tasted divine after a 3 hour hike.

A stop by a mountain glacier.

Cold mountain water!

Picnic lunch.  Bonnie, the dog, is relaxing.  I remember that she ran all day after mountain scents and creatures.

Each night one couple would host the adults for dinner.  I particularly remember an elaborate bollito misto.  Are you familiar with this dish?  A bollito misto is a mixed boil.  A large pot is filled with water. Carrots, celery, onions and herbs are added to flavor the water.  Then a selection of meats are added such as a beef brisket, a veal or beef tongue, a rolled and tied veal head and a hen.  Each of these items cooks at a different speed so you begin cooking the toughest cut first.  Traditionally, you also cook a cotechino sausage in a separate pot.

When the meats are cooked, they are sliced and displayed attractively on a platter.  They are usually served with salsa verde, a piquant tomato sauce and a pepper sauce.  The meat broth can be served as a first course with the addition of some pastine.

When my turn came to prepare dinner, I made chili: I fagioli alla messicana and corn bread.  This was met with raves!  I might have made some chocolate chip cookies too or apple pie.  I don’t remember.  But it was a successful evening.

It was wonderful to be embraced by these kind and generous  people.  We were made to feel right at home and part of their family.  Yet sometimes the togetherness was too much for me.  After being together morning, noon and night, I needed a break. I knew it would hurt their feelings, if we said we wanted to dine alone, just our family.  Maybe it’s my anglo-saxon upbringing?