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A pound of cheese and lots of red wine

Shauna Farnell

A sense of anti-climatic gloom seems to have filled the air now that U.S. skiers aren’t doing so well. I have to say, I wish there were more freestyle snowboarding events to look forward to, but maybe our skiers and alpine riders will come through.

And while the theme of these Games is “Passion Lives Here,” more and more people are complaining of the lack of energy in the crowd. Maybe everyone is transfixed by that hot Italian techno song on the ever-running soundtrack.

I really have to inform you, however, that at the same restaurant where polizia and caribinieri were huddled around the TV watching soccer a few nights ago, last night, what was likely the very same crew was unblinkingly fixated on figure skating.



After reading over my pathetically sparse tales of fine dining, I went big last night and changed all that. A journalist friend and I went to a wine bar in San Sicario and made up for the lack of indulgence that 14-hour work days can get in the way of.

The red wine from the local Piedmont area here is phenomenal. Really smooth and creamy with no aftertaste. We also got a big canister full of hand-rolled breadsticks and a plate of starters that included other local items like soft cheese, chestnuts wrapped in speck and an assortment of wild mushrooms.

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Our main course was raclette. Raclette, I think is more of a French thing, but considering that the French border is about five miles away, I wasn’t complaining that it was on the Italian menu. Raclette involves a large chunk of cheese hovering over a hot light, and when the side of the cheese gets gooey enough, you scrape it off and put it over some potatoes. I almost ate and drank myself sick … gotta make up for lost time.

The scenery was unreal when I woke up this morning. About eight inches of snow had fallen, with a layer of fog set over the sheer and spiky Alps in the distance. It warmed up significantly, but just to warn you, I might be blogging from the top of the chairlift tomorrow …


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