Patricia Talorico

The News Journal

Slovenia is a lot like Delaware. No one seems to know where it is or much about it.

But could tourism in Slovenia, perhaps best known now as soon-to-be First Lady Melania Knauss Trump’s homeland, get a boost after the Jan. 20 inauguration of her husband, President-elect Donald Trump?

While that remains to be seen, the tiny Central European nation of 2 million people has been in the spotlight lately because of the Trump connection.

Melania Trump was raised in the town of Sevnica, by her father, a car salesman, and her mother, a pattern maker at a textile factory. On Tuesday night, The Slovenian Embassy in Washington, D.C. and Sister Cities International are hosting an Inaugural Gala dedicated to Melania Trump. The event will feature traditional Slovenian food and drinks, and accordion music.

The country’s culinary scene raised its profile last year when Slovene Chef Ana Ros, who runs Hisa Franko in the remote village of Kobarid, starred in an episode of the “Chef’s Table” Netflix series.

The former Yugoslav state is bordered by Italy, Croatia, Austria and Hungary. Yet, Slovenia, which has been an independent country only since 1991, wasn’t exactly high on America’s list of favorite tourist destinations when I visited in 2008 as part of a three-week European vacation.

Barely the size of New Jersey, Slovenia has gently rolling hills, vineyards and lush valleys, some memorialized in Ernest Hemingway’s “A Farewell to Arms.”

I stayed and took cooking and wine-tasting classes at the Hotel Kendov Dvorec (Kenda Manor), a lovely 14th-century Relais & Châteaux property in the tranquil, 800-year-old town of Spodna Idrija.

From my bedroom window, I could see the bank of Idrijca River which overlooks a parish church dating back to 1156.

From Spodna Idrija, friends and I took side trips into Ljubljana, Slovenia’s capital and a Baroque gem where Melania Trump was a student in the 1980s, and lunched at Branko and Vasja Cotar’s vineyard in the Komen village in the southwestern Kras region. There, we tasted funky, regional wines like Vitovska, Terra Rossa and Teran, which seem to marry best with the local cuisine, including cabbage and nettle soups, beans, potatoes, breads, ham and sausages. Later, we spent an afternoon at the Colja Jozko farm in Sgonico, on the Slovenia border, not far from Trieste, Italy.

Slovenia has three wine-growing regions. Every wine-growing district has its own wine road that leads to wine-growers and wine cellar keepers in a small local area. Many of them also offer culinary and other delights in addition to wine.

Slovenian cuisine seems to have greater Austrian and Hungarian influences on the plate than its nearby neighbor Italy. At Hotel Kendov Dvorec, Chef Klavdij Pirih and Bogdan Toncic, the hotel’s Maître de Maison who often served as our guide in Slovenia, taught an afternoon class featuring idrija žlikrofi, or potato balls flavored with bacon, onions and herbs that are wrapped and cooked in a thin dough.

Žlikrofi is similar to small-filled pasta or perhaps plin, a ravioli that is traditional in Piedmont. Pirih and Toncic explained idrija žlikrofi is one of Slovenia’s most traditional and treasured dishes.

Pirih, an instinctual chef, didn’t hand out recipes that day. He could tell by sight, smell and touch what a dish needed and didn’t use any measuring cups or utensils as he blended together water, flour, eggs and salt for his dough. Every time I tried to take notes, he gently tapped me on the shoulder and pointed to his eyes, meaning he wanted me to watch him make the Slovene dumplings, not write.

The elasticity of the dough was important and Pirih pressed and stretched it with the heel of his hand.

“I don’t measure anything. It’s about feeling,” he said.

The dumplings are often served with bakalca, a hearty lamb sauce. During the class, we also learned to make struklji or rolled dumplings that can be savory or sweet.

To make the filling for idrija žlikrofi, Pirih explained that he first boils potatoes in water (no salt added) until tender and forced them through a potato ricer. He then mashed the potatoes by hand until smooth. Finely chopped chives and marjoram are added to the bowl, along with melted butter, grinds of pepper, minced, smoked bacon and onions that have been caramelized in the bacon fat.

How much of each? I don’t know. Pirih isn’t bound to exact ingredient amounts; he simply tastes as he goes.

The potato filling was set aside as Pirih began the dough, just a simple blend of water, flour, eggs and salt. The kneading is most important to the dumplings, Pirih explained, and the dough must be allowed to rest, in a plastic wrap, for at least 30 minutes.

While Pirih uses a light, soft flour in the dough, a different kind of flour, one with a much more granular texture, is sprinkled on a flat surface when the dough is rolled into long, thin sheets with a wooden pin.

Notebook and pen back in hand, I asked Pirih and Toncic to tell me the name of the coarser flour. But we encountered a lost-in-translation moment. Neither knew the English word, and I couldn’t translate Slovene.

The potato mixture was then rolled into marble-size balls. The potato balls were lined onto a sheet of dough -- each one about index finger apart. Another layer of dough was carefully rolled over the top of the potato balls. Pirih and Toncic showed us how to cut and then pinch off the dough to encase each potato ball individually.

The dumplings, which resemble individually wrapped penny candy, are given a quick finger poke to create a dimple in the middle. It is said the žlikrofi should resemble a hat.

The idrija žlikrofi are cooked in boiling, salted water for several minutes and served with a hearty sauce, usually lamb, though Pirih said he also sometimes uses various meats, mushrooms and other vegetables.

At dinner later in the hotel dining room, idrija žlikrofi is one of the courses. The taste is somewhat similar to gnocchi, but much lighter.

The served žlikrofi is beautifully formed and I think the kitchen staff might have tossed out the humble dumplings made by students earlier in the day and replace them with a better-looking batch.

Contact Patricia Talorico at (302) 324-2861 orptalorico@delawareonline.com and on Twitter@pattytalorico

Idrija-style žlikrofi

One of Slovenia’s most traditional and treasured dishes is idrijski žlikrofi. Recipes vary for these potato dumplings and ingredient amounts aren’t always exact. Adapted from “The Cuisine of Slovenia” (Rokus Gifts, 2007).

For the žlikrofi:

4 cups flour

3 egg yolks

1 egg white

About 1/2 cup milk

Salt, to taste

For the filling:

About 1/4 chopped bacon

1/4 cup chopped onion

3 potatoes

2 egg whites or 2 whole eggs

About 1/4 cup plain breadcrumbs

Chopped fresh parsley

Marjoram

Salt and pepper

Mix together flour, eggs, milk and salt. Knead until a soft, elastic dough is formed that does not stick to your hands. Form a small loaf, cover with plastic wrap and leave to rest for at least 30 minutes. Meanwhile prepare the filling.

Cook the bacon and the onion until the onion is soft and the bacon crisp. Crumble the bacon. Set aside. Boil the potatoes in water until fork tender. Drain. In a large bowl, add the potatoes and mash well. Add the crumbled bacon, bacon fat and onion, along with the egg whites (or whole eggs), breadcrumbs, pepper, marjoram and salt to taste. Combine well so you get a soft texture.

Divide the dough in two parts and roll each one thinly. Place teaspoons of the potato filling - or first roll the potato mix in marble-size balls - and place them in a line at equal distances, leaving some space between each potato ball. Cover with the other sheet of thinly rolled dough, then cut between the heaps or balls of potato filling. Press and pinch the dough together. Being careful not to damage the dough, make an indentation at the top of each žlikrofi, so you get a hat shape. Boil the žlikrofi in salted water until they start to float. It could take several minutes. Serve with a meat or vegetable sauce or in chicken broth.