Italy, Sauce, and The Case for Slow Travel

A view of Cortina D'Ampezzo and the surrounding mountains from a rifugio, a popular alpine refuge for hikers, skiiers, and adventurers.

In mid-September, my partner and I embarked on a long visit to Italy. We had been eagerly anticipating this trip for the better half of a year, considering all the places we were itching to see and imagining all the beautiful scenes we might share together.

The trip lasted from the second week of September until the third week of October – about five weeks total of adventure and just as much time away from our beloved cats and cozy, comforting routines. As much as we love our regular life together, we were absolutely jazzed at the proposition of such an adventure.

Downtown Cortina on a cool October night. Here, you can see the iconic bell tower of the Parish Church of Saints Philip and James, plus a sign about the upcoming Winter Olympics!

Of course, this length of a visit was largely possible because of his family. They recently moved back to his sweet mom’s hometown of Cortina D’Ampezzo, a gorgeous refuge at the edge of the Alps in a region known as the Dolomites.

For many, Cortina is known as an elite seasonal sports destination, where Olympians and serious vacationers alike gather for physical feats along the snowy peaks, après ski aperitifs, and boutique retreats surrounded by nature. Fun fact: some events for the Cortina Milano Winter 2026 Olympics are taking place there right now! We even saw the bobsled course mid-construction!

For his family, however, Cortina is much simpler. It’s a close-knit community that’s been around for many, many generations, with industrious roots in agriculture, carpentry, and artisanal production. Traces of families that have dwelled there for centuries (if not millennia) can be found in its pastures, which have been shepherded and celebrated as long as the region has been settled, in the names of its many local businesses, which are upheld with a sense of pride and community, and within its lovingly decorated and maintained cemetery, ancient and filled with reverence for their ancestors.

The back yard! Many homes in Cortina dot the hillsides below to the peaks and are surrounded by rolling pastures and forest. On several morning, we would wake up to the sound of cowbells and sheep in the neighbor's pasture behind the house.

Echoes of Cortina's rich human history can be found in the several Baroque churches that dot the hillsides, adorned with breathtaking ironwork and frescoes that jolt you into another time. Unassuming road signs depict both modern pedestrian paths as well as the local dialect, Ladin, which can be traced as far back as the Etruscan period. In short, the spirit of this place is ancient and simple at the same time that it is electrifyingly beautiful, enduring, and almost mythical.

This time in Cortina was the most distinct and one of my favorite parts of our trip, not just for the beauty of the place, but for the time we shared with my partner’s family. The different pace of life in this small town was a bit tough for me to adjust to for the first week or so. I’m not so used to waking up without having drafted a plan for my day, let alone a day when I’m traveling, but this challenged me to reframe how I think about spending my time in general.

Hiking is probably one of the most popular local activities -- and why would it not be? The natural setting of Cortina is unparalleled.

Even though we didn’t always “get out there” and schedule each moment with a new and exciting activity (soon, you'll see my April 2025 England trip itinerary for a comedic contrast,) we did take the time to simply exist together. There was a level of fluidity to our days that, while un-comfy at first, created room for us to sit and talk, to envision and prepare a new recipe together, to share our current online musings and fixations, and to connect in a way that felt authentic, calm, and not forced.

I felt like I got to know my partner’s family in an entirely new way, outside of expected holiday rituals and warm but planned events and within the every-day, small ways that people need to see and understand one another.

This experience has led me to think more about the ways we connect, how we share experiences, and our inherent need as humans to feel like we can simply exist in one another’s presence. In an age where so much of what we consume and how we interact can feel presented, especially on the internet, I was confused and then comforted by these simple but natural ways of being with others. Maybe it was the awe-inspiring embrace of alpine nature, too, but I wouldn’t change our time there for anything.

The view during a gondola-facilitated ascent we took to a rifugio one day with the family. The dizzying heights were absolutely worth the views.

Now, to get to the point of this post: Slow Travel. This experience got me thinking a lot more about how we travel and how that actually feels. I think it’s common, especially for Americans, to feel like we need to experience as much as humanly possible when we’re on a trip. I deeply relate to this, for that’s how I’ve felt and maybe still think a little about travel. I can't help but wonder, as I write this, if that might be at least partly informed by growing up in such a material-focused, relentless hustle culture, but I digress...

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I do want to experience as much of the world as possible. In the limited time I have, I want to see and hear and taste and learn all kinds of things, to be surprised and informed by the places I visit.

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At the same time, this trip helped me to see the beauty of slowing down, even (and maybe especially) when we’re in a new and exciting environment. Sure, it’s great and important to take in the things that make a place unique. Sometimes that will involve a day packed with research and plans and intentions.

But, hear me out: Sometimes, that may also mean taking the time to experience a more normal life in that place. How do the locals spend their days? What is the grocery store like? How does the air smell when you walk through the towns and forests and fields? More importantly, what are we learning from the people of that place? What might we contribute to that community in our short time there? Are we really able to take in and reflect on an experience if every moment is filled with sensation and itinerary checklist items?

I guess what I'm getting at is that sometimes, it might benefit us to explore what it means to really connect as humans in order to be truly inspired and changed by our travel. That is one of the main points after all, right? To see the beauty, but also to connect with each other?

Friend zucchini flowers in the making. We all sat around the kitchen table, stuffing them with fresh ricotta and parmesan cheese, and laughing over friendly sibling banter.

The completed zucchini flowers, plus my partner's mom's famous gnocchi alla romana. I still dream of this meal.

Speaking of connecting, one of my favorite ways to spend quality time is to cook with another person. I was lucky to do so on several occasions in Cortina, making everything from stuffed zucchini flowers to ramen stir fry to home-made arrabbiata sauce. Here’s a rough sketch for making said arrabbiata sauce, but for a more thorough recipe, check out this post.

This dish was bright and flavorful, came together in about 20 minutes, and was so comfortingly simple – perfect for quick, savory satisfaction. Besides, there’s something especially rewarding and delicious about making a good sauce from scratch. At least for me, it feels like I’ve uncovered some secret to imbuing flavor, like a witch who just mastered a potion.

Simple Home-made Arrabbiata Sauce

Ingredients:

• Garlic - 3-4 fresh cloves

• Chili to taste (flakes as well as fresh, if desired)

• 2-3 Fresh Roma Tomatoes

• Tomato Puree (1 15 oz can)

Steps:

In a pan, sauté garlic and chili in olive oil until fragrant. Add fresh tomatoes and tomato puree until tomatoes have softened and sauce is desired consistency. Season with salt and pepper and pour over fresh pasta.

I hope you find this recipe, and this week, comforting and fulfilling. Don't forget to keep dreaming!

One of my favorite experiences in Cortina, the Desmonteà Festival. Marking the movement of livestock from high-altitude hillside pastures to the valley in autumn, this was a very special event to behold.

-Lauren