Conegliano, Veneto, Italia. When I get sentimental, it’s usually over a certain place. Conegliano is a remarkable place and when I think about it, my eyes tend to glaze over and I daydream. Within this walled city, the sun shines on cobblestone streets. Pedestrians seek refuge under the shaded walkways, stopping occasionally for an espresso or glass of Prosecco. It smells of cigarettes, the bakery on the corner, and flowers hanging from the buildings overhead. The walk up the mountain is on a narrow path with crumbling stone archways on either side. The ascent is quite steep, yet the reward is the castle on top of the mountain and the view. At the mountaintop cafe, the risotto is simple goodness, and the Prosecco is especially rewarding. You sip it and look on either side of your table; Dolomiti on one side and the sparkling lights of the city on the other. The night is clear and breezy and perfect.
