From Hvar with Love

Well, sorely disappointed in the lack of actual Dalmatians on the Dalmatian Coast. Seriously, seven days in and not a one; not even 101. Closest we've got to a Dalmatian? Visor for sale in Hvar:

Hvar is a beautiful port town aimed at the luxury-seeking vacationer. It's a town with a great history, being that almost every major empire of the ancient world established, trampled, reinvigorated and/or plundered the town and the island over the last three millenium.

Bob and I on the Spanjola Fortress ramparts overlooking Hvar

You name it, they were here: Greeks, Romans. Slavs, Venetians, and for military history buffs, the Ottoman Turks came through on in 1571 on there way to the Battle of Lepanto whereupon they pillaged the town and razed it to the ground. (On a side note, October 7, 1571, the date of the Battle of Lepanto, was the same date in 2001 when U.S. forces invaded Afghanistan in the wake of the 9/11 attacks. Coincidence? I think not ...)

Later the French came through, and finally the Austrians. It was quite the destination for all the warring clans of Europe.

There are more than 200 shipwrecks from the Roman period throughout the waters surrounding Croatia, many near Hvar and the museum in the Spanjola Fortress contains amphorae retrieved from some of the wrecks. What's interesting is that archaeologists confimed these containers carries olive oil and dried fish from Roman-ruled Spain. Quite a distance to travel by boat back in the 2nd and 3rd Centuries.

Spanish amphorae

The center of Hvar is St. Stephen's Square and the Cathedral of St. Stephen, built at the height of the Renaissance. But the true center of town, and it's where the port begins, is the Arsenal:

During the 17th and 18th centuries, galleons were brought ashore, there masts removed and work completed within this wonderful building's walls.

Inside the Arsenal in Hvar

The Arsenal is now a giant theater, but what makes it cool is that in 1612, the governor of the town built on the second floor of the building a theater for both the aristocracy and the working class to attend theater together. Now the whole space has been renovated. The night we were there, a children's theater piece had been performed.

Spit-roasted lamb in Hvar. More on that later ...

OK, we had read about this one restraurant in Hvar, Zlatna školjka (the Golden Shell), and we wanted to go. Chef Ivan Buzolić is Croatia's only big international culinary judge and runs this small restaurant - 24 seats if the weather is good, 18 if it starts to rain, which it did the night we dined - located in the heart of Hvar's tourist-restaurant alleys above St. Stephen's Square.

Our waiter, Anton, or "Fluffy," as he admitted he was called in high school - "I was fat," he said - recommended the local Plavac red wine. It was dry, cherries, some tar, light tannin.

We started off with a wonderful potato salad, the mayonnaise was made with olive oil, a cherry fruit syrup vinegar, truffle oil and garnished with shaved white truffles. Rich, savory, we needed more bread to sop up the wonderful tart mayonnaise. Things only got better.

Bob ordered the mussels and I, the lobster soup. Anton told us that the basis of most of the sauces and soups was a pesto of garlic, onions and parsley in olive oil. The mussels came in a white wine broth with pieces of fried polenta at the bottom of the bowl.

The lobster soup had the look of a creamy chowder, but once you broke the surface with your spoon, it fragmented, like a miso soup, with chunks of lobster, polenta and baby shrimp dancing in the clear broth. In both liquors the garlic was strong, but sweet, with the freshness of the parsley really standing out, especially in the soup.

Bob ordered the grilled shrimp, which came served on a bed of par-boiled zucchini in a lemon olive oil, a side of mayonnaise and a warm mixed potato and zucchini salad.

I ordered up the chef's take on the local seafood stew, the Gregada. This had poached branzino, rolled around kale and sun-dried tomatoes, shrimp, limpets, clams, mussels and a certain shellfish which can't be named due to legal issues.

It was a beautiful. The seafood was so fresh that the briny taste of the shellfish softend the garlic and onions. The branzino was cooked perfectly, with the sweetness of the tomatoes complimenting the light bitterness of the kale.

Overall, this meal was totally worth the wait. We loved Hvar. I actually spent one whole afternoon at the hotel, lounging on the private pier, drinking German sparkling wine and swimming in the Adriatic. Bob believes I will figure this whole vacation thing out someday.

Next stop? Split and then onto Lake Country ...

From Korćula and Hvar

We've moved from one island in the Adriatic to another, taking the car ferry from Korćula (KOR-chu-la) to Hvar.

Somewhere between Korćula and Hvar ...

Korćula is beautiful, but small. I went for a jog Thursday morning, down the hill from our hotel, the Marko Polo, to the Old Town and back. It was so small, I lapped the old walled city twice before heading back up the hill, probably a little less than a two-mile run.

The layout of the city magical, though: The alleys on the west, straight, to carry the cooling breezes across the town during summer; slanted on the east, to block the cold winds which come with winter.

Looking east ...

Still, watching the sun rise on the sea was beautiful. It's hard to describe how clear and blue the Adriatic is; it's the deepest blue at times, but when you look into it, even down from a pier, into waters 15- to 20-feet deep, it's so clean and crisp you can see schools of small fish darting back and forth between the rocks and over the sand.

We rented a car for the trip from Dubrovnik to Istria. It's kind of funny; we're rocking the roads of Croatia in a Skoda family sedan:

Hvar is an ancient seaport, cast aside like so many others in the Adriatic and Mediterranean Seas during the 1800s when steam-powered vessels usurped the sailing ships. It's had many names, with Hvar being a mispronunciation by the Slavs which invaded what was then the Greek island of Pharos in the 7th Century.

Hvar seen from Spanjola Fortress

The three-hour ferry trip was wonderful, with para-sailors and windsurfers criss-crossing the wake of the ferry boat as we left Korćula.

The ferry arrives at Korćula

Leaving Korćula

The car ferry, which only leaves once twice a week from Korćula, actually takes you to the port of Stari Grad, on the north side of Hvar island. Then you drive for 20 minutes or so to Hvar proper. We got in to town around 4:30 p.m. and checked into our hotel, the Podstine, which is Croatian for "Under the Wall," by which they mean, under the 80-plus-foot cliff face:

We were in the building on the other side of the road. The hotel's layout being that the reception and lobby are on the 3rd floor, and our room was on the 1st floor, descending down the cliff face. Yes, the room was the size of a large, Park Avenue walk-in closet, and once again the shower was Hobbit-sized. (On a side note, Bob had no trouble with the size of the facilities.)

The view from the lobby

The city was founded by the Greeks in the 4th Century, B.C., but the fortress which looms high above the town was built upon the ruins of a 7th Century A.D. Roman fort. It's called the Spanjola Fortress due to its 16th Century design, built under Venetian rule, based on Spanish architecture.

View from the Fortress

Following the collapes of the shipping trade in the 19th Century, Hvar's governors smartly positioned the island as a vacation and spa destination, a tradition which continues today.

Bob and I were exhausted from the day's travel, and we wanted to eat at the Golden Shell, one of Croatia's best restaurants, but with only 24 seats in the place, it was booked solid our first night. The waiter, Anton, however, recommended we go to Konoba Menego, a small restaurant at the far edges of the touristy restaurants, up the hill from the town square.

What a find: Basically a "mom 'n' pop"-style place serving traditional food, we enjoyed an amazing meal of gnocchi and shrimp in a light cream sauce, a seafood salad and the special of the night, baked veal wrapped around vegetables in a caper and olive oil reduction served with a barley and vegetable salad. The gnocchi were tricolor, made with potato, potato and spinach and potato and beets.

What stood out above all else was the white wine, which Bob ordered. Full-bodied, like Chardonnay, but even and crisp, with citrus, apple and buttery notes. Bob was mad for it, and I kept stealing sips. (I had the red, made from the local Plavac grape, which was nice, but nothing outstanding.)

But when we asked for a bottle, our waiter told us it was the house wine, from the owners own vineyard and not for sale. It's not uncommon, he told us. Even the olive oil was from the owner's olive groves.

You don't get much fresher than that.