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| The Prossliner Schwaige near Compatsch |
Yesterday, as often is the case in my summer season (summer being defined as any season other than winter), lunch consisted of eating a sandwich that I’d made the evening before with one hand while moving around a job site. This isn’t a problem, it’s just the nature of things, but it also may be the reason that I went home and put the finishing touches on a vacation that I’ve been planning. On vacation, I do not stand up to eat lunch. I sit. It’s just a question of where I sit and for how long.
I do love a great outdoor café, sitting and watching the
world go by in unhurried fashion. In Basalt, Colorado, I live a ten minute
stroll from a couple of cafés, my favorite of which is in a small, old brick
building with a patio that is just the right size, with umbrellas that are just
the right size, where the tables are separated from the sidewalk by a short
wrought iron fence and an explosion of newly blossoming flowers in a garden bed
that also is just the right size. I do really like to sit there; and then,
after a while, I stroll home.
There is something undoubtedly luxurious about lunch. Dinner
is supposed to have a bit of ceremony and when we envision breaking bread with
friends and family, it’s dinner that is in each of our mind’s eye. Maybe that’s
precisely why a leisurely, unhurried lunch in a great spot is so special – it is
an extra treat, different from what we can do in the workaday world.
For anyone who doubts my lunching bona fides, in the last couple
of years since the COVID pandemic ended and I swan-dived back into the joys of
travel, lunch has been a pivotal component of my mountain adventures. I am not
kidding. While hiking in the Dolomites, for example, I like to plan my next day’s
excursion based on where I’d like to have lunch, which réfuge, on what mountain
pass. I have had some terrific food in restaurants in the past few years but
there is no question that the best meals have been lunches in far flung places
with exceptional views where I had to earn my calories with the effort I put in
to get there.
Rifugio di Fanes in San Vigilio di Marebbe (at 2060m) had
spinach spaetzle that was an otherworldly experience, and that was before the
traditional buckwheat cake with raspberry filling. Of course, the three-hour
uphill slog in a driving rain may have affected my view, but that lunch
transported me to another level of existence. Utia da Rit (at 2000m) provided stunning
gnocchi Bolognese. Ooh, and then there was the polenta al funghi at the Schlern
Haus (at 2457m) – words fail me. The Schultzhaus Mahlknechthütte (at 2054m) had wonderful speckknödelsuppe that
I enjoyed in great company – I’ll tell you the story some other time; it’s a
good one. Each of those places is unique, is authentic in its atmosphere, and
sincere in its welcome to me and all others who venture so far to enjoy their
hospitality. I’d happily return to any one of them, but for now there are more places
to see and eat, more lunch spots that will be the pin on a map for a day’s
adventure.
Returning home from a long day of work yesterday with a
lunch that was delicious but only slightly more than a mere source of nutrition
and energy, I fully committed to my next lunch spots with abandon. I’ll be
going back to the Alps this summer to spend time exploring among legendary
peaks. Although some of the possible hikes on my agenda are justifiably famous,
it’ll be the plans for lunch that determine where I go each day. Fortified with
a wonderful breakfast and exceptional coffee, I’ll lace up my shoes and head
out in the cool morning mountain air knowing that the sights, sounds, and
smells of the places I’ll wander will be incomparable, and that a great meal, a
memorable stop for lunch will greet me precisely when I would value some moments
of contemplation and rest. Nourishing is the experience I seek, and daydreaming
about it already sustains me. I can’t wait.
