Dinner with Davor Lukas: Rock Singer, Chef

Now, if it wasn't for the woman who helped us book our trip, Drajica Lukas, a travel agent at the New Jersey-based Travel Time, we would not have come to Opatija, nor the port city of Rijeka.

Mimi, Drajika, Davor, Bob and Anthony

However, in the course of planning the trip, Bob and Drajica struck up a friendship and we agreed to meet she and her family for dinner at her son's restaurant while passing through the region.

The restaurant, Arca Fiumana, is a retired ferry boat in the Rijeka port.

Davor is the lead singer of the Croatian rock band, Fit. Founded back in 1982, it's big anthem rock. The band recorded two albums, one in '89, another in '90. But in '91 the war began. Davor and the band didn't want to lift arms against their neighbors, so they moved to Amsterdam. "But we split up because we didn't like each other," Davor said with a laugh.

Marinated Sardines

Our plan was to meet Drajika, Davor and his sister, Mirjana (Mimi), for dinner that night. (Drajika had retired, and returned home to Croatia from New Jersey.) But the boat is being refurbished, with a new nightclub being put in and a dining room being redone. Instead of meeting us at another restaurant, Davor offered to cook us all dinner at his restaurant. (Which led so some funny moments when people started coming on board looking to have dinner ...)

Though with no formal culinary training, Davor sure as hell knows his way around the kitchen. Drajika asked us three questions: Do we like fish? Do we like olive oil? Do we drink wine? Why, yes, we do.

It was a five-course meal complete with Istrian white wine pairings, with one extra red, a Merlot thrown in, and homemade blueberry grappa to finish the evening off.

We began with a half-dozen quickly cooked mussels, served in their liquor and olive oil, accompanied by a Misal, an Istrian sparkling wine. Second course were sardines, lightly fried, then marinated in lemon juice and olive oil. Served with tomatoes, arugula,  beans and pickled onion. Superb. Sardines were tender, flavorful, not fishy. Almost sweet.

Next up, a shrimp and porcini mushroom risotto with langoustine. Davor says he always tests any new chefs who audition for him by having them make risotto. He first boiled the langoustines, then used the broth to make the risotto. Every forkful was perfect, the rice was cooked, firm, not sticky or soupy, the shrimp sweet and the mushrooms savory.

The fourth course was a baked sea bass wrapped around smoked tuna, served with sauteed kale, finished with olive oil. An amazing combination of flavors, with the tuna being firm, yet not chewy, despite being smoked.

  OK, there were a few wines served ...

All the wines were superb and complimented each of the dishes perfectly. No, I can't remember which went with which, BUT, this one stood out, an '09 Coronica Gran Malvazija:

This was served with the sea bass and smoked tuna. According to Davor, it's made with the skin of the grape still on. This is a rich, full-bodied white, rich, citrus but not tart.

Dessert was a homemade panna cotta with raspberry sauce. Served with a muscat.

The evening was perfect. Even when a torrential downpour hit. The Lukas' family were wonderful hosts. Davor is a master chef. And he and the band reformed, back in '09 and last year, they put a new album out.

When in Rijeka, go to this restaurant. It would be a crime to miss it.

Let's Get Lost, Part 2: The Road to Opatija

Two days ago, we left Plitvice, driving northwest, down through the Croatian Inland, to Opatija.

The terrain is beautiful, lush, green, very reminiscent of Ireland or parts of New England. Fall is settling in, the leaves are turning.

We were barely 15 minutes out of Plitvice when we drove by a monument to Tito and his Partisans and their fight against the Nazis in World War II. It's almost hidden by trees, but as we zipped by, I saw the outline of the figures. I knew it was special.

It's an impressive, violent monument. Strictly Soviet-Era socialist realist in its construction and design.

I couldn't understand the inscriptions, a list of the dead, locals, I suppose. But hostilities seemed to have ended in 1943. Still, there were red, votive candles at its base. So nice to see that someone nearby remembers.

The closer we drove to the coast, the more the country began to look more like Northern Italy. Opatija is only a couple of hours away from Trieste, in Italy. Following World War II, Italy and Yugoslavia almost came to blows over the region. Up until World War I, the area had been part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, and between then and 1943, Italy had taken control of the Istria region.

In the early-1950s, as tensions grew between Italy and Yugoslavia, Tito negotiated a deal to keep Istria and give Trieste to Italy. Good call. I'm pretty sure he did it for the wine and olive oil. (Still, Croatia and Italy spar over fishing rights. Some things never change.)

Driving in Croatia is not for the timid. As Igor, the chap who dropped off our rental in Dubrovnik cautioned: "They are crazy here. Like in Italy. Or Mexico." And this from a native, right?

The road infrastructure is incredible, we think because Croatia has an eye on joining the EU, despite the crisis, but mostly due to post-war international investment. That said, the drivers ARE crazy, and lines on the road and speed limits are more like suggestions than actual directives. "If it says go 70," Igor advised. "Go 90." This is kilometers per hour, but still ...

Drivers aside, Bob and I do love the International road signage for Parking, Wi-Fi, Dining and Roast Beast:

Note sad, hollowed-out, eye sockets. Nice touch

Opatija is a beautiful seaside town, referred to at the Opatija Riviera. It sits on the Adriatic, on the Gulf of Kvarner, looking east in an almost perfect U-shape. Elegant hotels and villas from a previous era climb up the steep hills from the water's edge.

View from Hotel Kristal

Founded millennia ago by the Illyrians, the Pre-Roman inhabitants of this part of the Balkans, it wasn't until the 1840s when the town took off as a major holiday destination. Still, despite its location, only an hours drive into Italy, it has a weathered, sad look of a summer destination past its prime; the population is elderly, though we were told a lot of young people come into the town on weekends to hang at the bars and restaurants which dot the promenade.

It's the home of an Open Air Summer Theater, and over the last century, the town has attracted its fair share of artists and luminaries, many of whom appear on a mural surrounding the theater.

The Croatian Walk of Fame is located on the boardwalk.

 Of course, Bob and I didn't recognize a lot of the names, but one stood out ...

Tesla was of Serbian origin, and he was born and raised not far from Montenegro and Dubrovnik. Still, nice to see him represented.

Opatija is quaint, relaxing and made for a perfect gateway into Istria. But first, we had dinner in Rijeka ...

Let's Get Lost, Part 1: Split and Plitvice

When we last left off, our travelers had found themselves in rather dire circumstances, set upon by nature, devoid of hope and Wi-Fi ...

The Campanile of the Cathedral of St. Domnius, Split

OK, we left Hvar two days ago and headed by car ferry to Split, the second largest city in Croatia. Founded in the 4th Century by the Roman Emperor Diocletian, this working port town expands out from the ancient site of the Roman ruler's retirement Palace.

We stayed in a little place, the Hotel Peristil, built between the inner and outer walls of the ancient palace, and just behind the Cathedral. Back in the day, the Cathedral was Diocletian's mausoleum, across the Peristil, or the central courtyard, is the Temple of Jupiter, now the Baptistry. There you can find one of two black granite sphinxes, from around 1500 BC which had greeted visitors on the entrance Diocletian's mausoleum.

Now, Diocletian was a bit of a badass. Born a slave, he joined the Roman army, rose through the ranks and was Emperor at age 39. Though, oddly, he found the Empire at the time somewhat unmanageable, so he split it into four fiefdoms, or the Tetrarchy. Then, in something rarely done in the annals of politics, he decided to retire to Split and his palace at the age of 60. This, of course, led to a civil war between the other members of the Tetrarchy. But, hey, at least he was innovating ...

We spent the afternoon walking through the Palace which has been repurposed with great expertise into a high-end tourist outdoor mall of sorts. Interesting architectural flourishes about, like our hotel, basically a discrete four-story box built between two of the ancient walls. It's not uncommon to walk by a trendy boutique or a bank in the alleys where they've built around an ancient column or wall.

Hotel Peristil's "tasteful" signage

We dined that night at Šperun Deva, a great "mom 'n' pop" restaurant, not only recommended by numerous guidebooks and websites, but also the locals.

Bob ordered the mussels in a red sauce, not on the menu, but recommended by one of the guides. Great stuff. We then had the branzino, which was poached, then baked. Great flavor, tender, but firm, served with boiled potatoes and sauteed kale.

Now the wine we were served was great. Postup, the local grape. This was insanely good. Big, bold, licorice, black cherry, full-bodied.

It's safe to say that beyond the port and the Palace, Split is a plain, working-class town. The following day we drove up into Croatia's mountains, to the Plitvice Lakes. As you pull away from the center of Split, from the ancient palace, past the Mediterranean-style stucco and brick summer houses and apartments with the red tiles which hug the shore, you move into the suburbs and a lot of those bleak, Cold War-era apartment blocks. Dreary.

We took the main road up the hills, with the temperature in the high-80s. If you've ever driven from San Bernardino to Palm Springs, you kind of get the picture. Just eliminate the smog. This is a rough-hewn country, especially in the area between the coasts and the foothills. Bare limestone pillars and peaks jut out of the ground at weird angles.

But the higher we rose into the hills, the more Alpine the scenery became, and the Plitvice Lakes National Park is beautiful. The temperature had also dropped to the mid-60s and it was overcast. The lakes are not large by U.S. standards, but they are tiered and were formed by a calcium material called travertine. The water is clear and large schools of fish can be seen in each of the lakes.

Veliki Slap (The Big Waterfall)

OK, this was really hilly, with lots of hills, and we had to walk down, and then back up a few times. Overall about a two mile walk. Bring sensible walking shoes.

We stayed at the Plitvička Jezera, a park-owned resort that's got a major '60s-modern grooviness going on. It's kind of like a mountain chalet, yet at the same time, somewhat utilitarian.

 Welcome. You WILL Enjoy Yourself

 Groovy Stairwell

Groovy Amoeba-shaped First Floor Landing Lighting

That night we headed back down the hill about 6 miles to the Vila Velebita for our first helping of spit-roasted suckling pig. This stuff is INSANE. Pork should always be served this way. No, seriously. It was tender and succulent and the crackle, the skin was a guilty treat.

The wine was also quite good. In fact, outside of one or two glasses of errant reds or whites, overall the wines here in Croatia are as good as anywhere we've had wine: Italy, France, California ... Just solid.

Bob and I made it an early night after our huge, pork-fueled dinner. In fact, it's dinnertime now. Will write more later...

... And then the wheels came off the wagon

After a great day in Split, a wonderful hike through the lake country and a stunning overnight stay in Opatija with an amazing dinner at Davor Lukas seaside restaurant in Rejika, we drove to Istria.

Where we were booked into the Worst. Hotel. Ever.

The Girl with the Seagull, Opatija

Bailing out now! Write more later! Also, you can't beat suckling pigs roasted on a spit. 

The saddest sign ever ...

The international "No Dalmatians Allowed" sign.