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When I’m in Dalmatia, besides the splash of the Adriatic against all those rocky islands, and the rustle of the wind through the white pine trees, there’s one other sound that I want in my ears: klapa music.

Klapa is an incredibly beautiful, distinctively Dalmatian form of a cappella singing. The word “klapa” means simply “a group of people.” A traditional klapa group consists of eight male singers, with two baritones, two basses, a first tenor and a second tenor. Nowadays there are female groups and even mixed groups, but to me nothing beats the classic sound of male voices in close harmony.

Klapa has deep roots in Dalmatian culture, and as a result there are many, many klapa groups, ranging from a bunch of friends who get together to sing on weekends, to famous professional groups like Klapa Trogir. One of the greatest things about traveling around this region is that you never know when you might suddenly stumble upon some klapa.

In September of 2007, for instance, I was wandering around the old town of Split, exploring the amazing remains of the Roman emperor Diocletian’s palace, when in a crumbling chamber of that palace—today just another part of the city’s fabric—I found a small but excellent group of guys singing klapa, utilizing those ancient Roman acoustics to great benefit.

I love klapa so much that I’ll write more about it in the future. For now, though, here are some samples. This link is to a video by the klapa group Crikvenica. In a fusion of the traditional and the modern, they’re doing a version of a song by the contemporary Croatian singer Gibonni. The lyrics speak of how the singer wants to forget the girl who cheated him, but never will be able to.

The second is a kind of music video from Klapa Trogir. They’re singing a song called “Grlica je propivala,” which beseeches a turtle dove (“grlica”) to sing a song to a far-off love in Trogir. In the background of this video are some images of that lovely old walled town of Trogir, too.

Do you have any favorite klapa groups or songs? Speak up!

In the last several years, a new blip has appeared on oenophiles’ radar screens: Croatian wines are rapidly improving in quality, and several winemakers are gaining international notice. One of the most highly-regarded Croatian producers is a man by the name of Mario Mendek.

Mendek started out making wines in Zagreb, but now it’s his bottles from down south, along the coast, that are really attracting attention. His winery is north from Dubrovnik, heading toward the Pelješac peninsula, which counts among the best winemaking areas in all of Croatia. Pelješac is a staggeringly beautiful, mountainous finger of land stretching out into the Adriatic, almost touching the island of Korcula.

The Croatian wine writer Davor Butkovic has identified Mendek’s winery as the most modern in the country, and production has rapidly increased over the last several years, from 20,000 bottles in 2003 to some 30,000 in 2004.

Mendek has partnered with the Italian vintner Roberto Cipresso to bring out three wines: Enigma, Mozaik, and Selekcija. Like most reds in Dalmatia, these three are made from the Plavac mali grape, native to the region. One definition of heaven is walking through a vineyard on a steep Dalmatian hillside some September afternoon and luxuriating in the perfume of these little blue berries (“plavac” comes from the Croatian word for “blue”) as they ripen. The Plavac mali grape is high in both alcohol and tannins, with typical flavors of blackberries and pepper. The grape is also known for being genetically related to Zinfandel.

Selekcija is Mendek’s finest wine, and is the one you should definitely seek out. The 2004 is superior to the 2003. The 2004 is a big, fruity red that might remind you of a Californian Cab. Try it with a steak, or better yet with the Dalmatian specialties of roasted lamb and cheese from the island of Pag. Davor Butkovic, perhaps the best-informed writer on the Croatian wine scene, rated the 2004 Selekcija among the three or four top Mali plavac wines, and gave it a rating of 8.5 out 10.

Selekcija 2004 sells for around US$50 a bottle in Croatia. Pricey, but worth it. You’d be lucky to find Mendek’s wines outside of Croatia—all the more reason to plan that Dalmatian vacation!

Anyone have some suggestions on other favorite Croatian wines? Leave a comment!

Pelješac

For “wine talk that goes down easy,” check out Dr. Vino’s site, the best wine blog on the web. Those who read Croatian can see Davor Butkovic’s article on Selekcija.

Have you ever taken one bite of something—just one bite—and immediately experienced something like a culinary orgasm? I hope everyone has had that experience.

I had one this past summer, in the village of Kobarid in Slovenia. Kobarid is a very cute place, tiny, one main street going through the center of town, farmers’ fields all around, and mountains looming above. The icy-clear Soca river runs nearby, down from the Alps and off to the sea. It’s an idyllic alpine spot. So we’re not quite on the Adriatic here, but Kobarid has a delicacy so good I have to tell you about it.

This delicacy is called kobariski štruklji—that is, štruklji from Kobarid. Štruklji are dumplings, and Slovenia is really a dumpling eater’s paradise, since there are dozens upon dozens of varieties of štruklji, filled with just about everything imaginable. The Kobarid variety is a dessert dumpling. It’s kind of like a pierogi, filled with crushed walnuts, topped with powdered sugar and cinnamon. Orgasmic, I say.

And you can really only get it in Kobarid. That’s reason enough to trek in from the coast to this beautiful mountain valley and its heavenly štruklji.

Have a favorite dessert or recipe from the Adriatic? Tell us about it in the comments!

Štruklji

Kobarid

Imagine a fortress that commands a high hilltop, surrounded on both sides by rugged, grey mountains. The fortress sits squarely in the middle of an extremely strategic pass through those mountains—whoever controls this forbidding castle can channel army after army from the heights down to the waiting sea. And this fortress is the first, or the last, line of defense for a great, ancient city: if that hilltop fortress were to fall, what is there left to protect one of the most important ports of the Adriatic Sea?

Such a fortress actually exists: the castle of Klis, some 10 km northwest of Croatia’s second-largest city, Split. Impossibly scenic, the castle overlooks a vast stretch of the Adriatic coast from its perch on an outcropping of the Dinaric mountains. Klis occupies such a strategic location that there has been a road through the pass since ancient times, leading from the major Roman city of Solin up through the mountains into the territory of Bosnia. The ancient Illyrians had a stronghold on this spot, as did the Romans. During the Middle Ages a more extensive castle was built, ruled by Croatian lords.

But the climactic moment in Klis’ history came in the first several decades of the 1500s. The Ottoman Turks were marauding northwards through the Balkan peninsula, mowing down kingdom after kingdom of Christians. The Ottomans set their sights on Klis, knowing that if they could take it, they should be able to command the entire central Dalmatian coast. One man stood in their way: Petar Kružic, the Croatian “Prince of Klis.”

For fifteen years Kružic led the defense of Klis as the Ottomans hurled army after army against the fortress. Kružic and his soldiers fought almost alone against the Turks. No troops would come from the Hungarian king, slaughtered by the Ottomans at the battle of Mohács in 1526. The Venetians balked at sending help. Only the popes provided men and money.

By 1537 Klis was totally surrounded, Turks on all sides. But still Kružic and his men held out… until the Turks tricked the defenders out of the fortress and then swiftly counterattacked. Kružic died on that hilltop, fighting to hold his critically strategic castle to the last.

It was a minor miracle that the Turks never managed to conquer Split itself. The Venetians needed decades of fighting before they finally managed to re-take Klis, and the fortress changed hands repeatedly. Only in 1669 did it come once and for all under the flag of Venice.

You can easily visit Klis today on a daytrip from Split. That old, battered, amazing fortress still sits on its high rocky outcropping—one of the most dramatic and historic castles all along the Adriatic coast.

What’s your vote for the coolest castle on the Adriatic coast? Leave a comment!

Martin Pohanka’s image of the fortress.

Historical view of Klis (1571).