While in Bordeaux, I got slightly addicted to the local pastry. Okay, it was slightly more that slightly. Another 24 hours in the city and I would have had to check myself into rehab. Baked using its own special fluted mold, … Continue reading
I wish I was back in San Sebastián. That gem of a city on the Bay of Biscay… which is fun to say. Munching on pinxtos. Sipping on vino blancos. Taking afternoon siestas. Repeat! Have two people ever eaten better than we did on … Continue reading
The Alps and I were separated at birth.
That certainly didn’t take long to discover. I stepped off the train in Innsbruck, and the cool mountain air made the trappings of Vienna seem like a distant memory. Don’t get me wrong, I loved Vienna! The opera, the schnitzel, the palaces and pastries. But Innsbruck was where I needed to be.
In Innsbruck I did what one comes to Innsbruck to do. I strapped on my big boy boots and went for a hike high up into the mountains that surround this energetic provincial city. My goal was to reach a little tavern perched at 1,487 meters, high above the Inn River. It was a picture perfect spring day. After a 10-kilometer ascent, sweat pouring down my face, I reached my destination and settled into one of the outdoor tables with a view of the Alps and the valley below. (Everyone sat on just one side of each table — the side with the view.)
I glanced at the menu and couldn’t make heads of tails of half of it. Fortunately, a kind local sitting beside me instructed me on what to order. The result was my favorite meal of the entire trip!
It was called kaspressknodelsuppe — a Tyrolian alpine cheese dumpling served in a rich broth. And it was marvelous! The perfect meal for the midway point of a long, arduous hike. Hearty and filling enough to give me the energy to complete the lengthy descent, yet light enough to not weigh me down. And the perfect accompaniment? A radler (beer mixed lemonade). A little alcohol… but not so much that I’d be rolling down the hill.