Drink In Life

Where to Eat in the Dolomites: A Unique South Tyrolean Lunch Stop

Posted on November 2, 2026 by drinkinlife

Pretzels in Italy?

If you cross the invisible geographic border separating the rolling vineyards of Trentino from the dramatic peaks of northern Italy, you’ll notice a fascinating shift. Road signs suddenly display two names instead of one, traditional Alpine chalets begin to replace the more familiar Italian architecture, and even the restaurant menus offer a few surprises. When deciding where to eat in the Dolomites during our road trip from Trento to Val Gardena, I certainly hadn’t expected to find myself contemplating pretzels and sausages for lunch. Pasta, absolutely. A good plate of risotto, certainly. But Weißwurst and a warm, salt-crusted pretzel? Apparently, we were about to discover a very different side of Italian cuisine.

Welcome to South Tyrol.

For centuries, this region was part of the Austrian Habsburg lands before becoming part of Italy after the First World War. Today, the influence of both cultures is evident everywhere, from the Italian and German place names to the architecture, traditions, and food.

It’s one of the things that makes exploring South Tyrol so interesting, particularly if, like me, you enjoy discovering a destination through its history and the dishes that have found their way onto local tables.

As I shared in my earlier article, The Ultimate Dolomites Road Trip: Driving from Trento to Val Gardena, our journey took us through some remarkable scenery, but it also gave us the opportunity to explore a few places we might otherwise have overlooked. One of those was the small village of Colma, or Kollmann as it’s known in German, where we stopped for lunch and discovered that this quiet corner of South Tyrol had quite a bit more to offer than a good meal. Between its centuries of history and the traditional dishes we were about to try, our little lunch stop turned into one of the more memorable discoveries of the day.

A Quiet Village with an Imperial Past

Driving through the Isarco Valley, it would be easy to pass right by Colma without giving it much thought. Tucked between the mountains along the Isarco River, it’s a small village that gives little indication of the role it once played in European travel and trade.

Looking around today, with its traditional buildings and peaceful streets, it’s difficult to imagine the number of people who once passed through this little corner of South Tyrol.

Long before modern roads made traveling through the Alps relatively easy, the Isarco Valley was a well-traveled passage between northern Europe and Italy. The route wasn’t always an easy one, however. In the Middle Ages, the narrow river gorge presented a considerable obstacle to travelers, with steep terrain, marshy stretches, and sections that were nearly impassable.

In 1314, a merchant named Heinrich Kunter financed the construction of a route through the gorge, which became known as the Kuntersweg. It was a significant development for trade and travel through the region, eventually becoming part of the historic Kaiserstraße, or Emperor’s Road.

The vibrant Isarco River, captured here just 15 minutes down the road at the Cornedo Covered Bridge, runs directly past the village of Colma and the tavern doors

Over the centuries, Holy Roman Emperors, nobles, merchants, and pilgrims made their way along this route, many continuing south toward Rome. In 1483, Archduke Sigismund of Austria had Friedburg Castle built in Colma, serving both as a fortified toll station and a means of protecting this important passage. Even Johann Wolfgang von Goethe traveled through the area during his famous journey to Italy in 1786, later writing about his experiences in Italian Journey.

I’ve always found it interesting how often the smallest villages turn out to have the most intriguing histories. Colma certainly isn’t a place where you’d expect to find yourself thinking about emperors, medieval merchants, and centuries of Alpine travel, particularly when you’ve only stopped to find somewhere for lunch. Yet, standing among its old buildings, it was worth considering just how many travelers had followed this same route long before we arrived.

Stepping Inside Oberweger Bierstube Durstkurort

In the heart of the tiny village of Colma sits Durstkurort Bierstube Oberweger, a traditional South Tyrolean tavern that caught our attention as we were driving past and seemed like just the right place to pause for lunch. With its distinctive exterior and prominent Bierstube sign, it was another reminder that we were experiencing a side of Italy quite different from the one we’d left behind in Trento.

Before settling in, we stepped inside to have a quick look around. The dining room was everything you might hope to find in a traditional Alpine Stube, filled with dark wood furnishings, simple tables, and the sort of comfortable, lived-in atmosphere that comes from a place that hasn’t felt the pressure to reinvent itself to keep up with modern trends.

It reminded me of the kind of old-fashioned tavern where you could quite easily settle into a corner for a leisurely afternoon and lose track of the time.

For a moment, I was tempted to stay indoors and enjoy the surroundings. However, the sunshine outside made that a difficult choice to defend. As much as I appreciated the character of the dining room, spending such a beautiful afternoon in the Dolomites sitting inside didn’t seem like the best use of the weather. We headed back out, found a table on the terrace, and settled in with the menus.

If you’re wondering where to eat in the Dolomites for a taste of the region’s Austrian-influenced cuisine, this little tavern is certainly worth considering. It didn’t take long to realize that lunch was going to be quite different from the Italian meals we’d enjoyed earlier in our travels. The menu featured traditional South Tyrolean dishes, several of which were entirely new to me. Given my tendency to want to try anything unfamiliar when traveling, the greatest challenge wasn’t finding something that sounded appealing, but narrowing down the choices to what could reasonably fit on our table.

A Taste of South Tyrol: Pretzels, Weißwurst, and Wurstsalat

One of the pleasures of exploring Italy is discovering just how dramatically the food can change from one region to another. In South Tyrol, the influence of neighboring Austria and Bavaria is particularly evident, with substantial mountain fare, cured meats, rye breads, dumplings, and sausages appearing alongside more familiar Italian dishes. Much of this cooking has its roots in the practical demands of mountain living, when preserving ingredients and preparing satisfying meals from what was readily available mattered far more than culinary fashion.

Our lunch at Durstkurort Bierstube Oberweger offered an opportunity to sample several of these regional specialties, and judging by the number of plates that eventually arrived, we had certainly made the most of it. Sharing seemed like a perfectly reasonable strategy when we ordered. By the time everything was on the table, I was beginning to question our definition of reasonable.

We began with a Brezel, the familiar twisted pretzel found throughout the German-speaking Alpine regions. Forget the little crunchy pretzels that come out of a bag. This one had a beautifully browned, salt-studded crust that gave way to a soft, pleasantly chewy center. It would have been perfectly enjoyable on its own, although with a dish of sweet mustard sitting nearby, I wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity to try the two together.

The Weißwurst, a Bavarian white sausage, was something I had been particularly curious about. Made primarily from finely minced veal and pork, and typically seasoned with parsley, lemon, and mild spices, these pale sausages are gently heated rather than grilled or browned. Ours arrived in a white-and-blue enamel pot filled with hot water, keeping them at just the right temperature without allowing their delicate casings to split. Even the presentation was something I hadn’t encountered before.

Of course, ordering Weißwurst also meant figuring out the proper way to eat it. The casing is generally removed rather than eaten, and while some Bavarians have perfected the technique known as zuzeln, drawing the sausage meat directly from the casing, I decided that attempting that particular maneuver in public might be a little more adventure than lunch required.

Instead, I took the more manageable approach of slicing the casing lengthwise, peeling it away, and enjoying the tender sausage with a generous helping of sweet mustard. I can’t claim to have mastered the finer points of Bavarian dining etiquette in one afternoon, but I was certainly willing to give it a try.

Alongside the pretzel and Weißwurst, we ordered Wurstsalat, a sausage salad popular throughout German-speaking Central Europe. It might not be the first thing that comes to mind when someone suggests ordering a salad in Italy, but I was pleasantly surprised by how well the ingredients worked together. Thinly sliced sausage was combined with pickled gherkins, red onion, tomatoes, and hard-boiled egg, all dressed in a light vinaigrette. The pickles and dressing brought a welcome sharpness to the plate, balancing the richer flavors of the meat and bread.

What I particularly enjoyed about this lunch was discovering how a handful of relatively simple ingredients could come together to create such satisfying dishes. It’s the kind of food I could easily imagine recreating at home, particularly the Wurstsalat, which would be wonderful for a casual summer lunch with friends, perhaps alongside a basket of warm pretzels and a good selection of mustards. Of course, finding the right Weißwurst might take a little more effort, but that’s part of the fun of bringing a few culinary discoveries home from our travels. Sitting on the terrace in Colma, sampling these regional specialties for the first time, I was already making mental notes about what I might like to try in my own kitchen.

For travelers wondering where to eat in the Dolomites beyond the more familiar restaurant offerings, a stop at a local Bierstube is worth considering. Our lunch in Colma was a good reminder that some of Italy’s most interesting regional foods aren’t necessarily the ones that first come to mind when planning a trip.

Meet Schüttelbrot: South Tyrol’s Unusual Rye Bread

When our lunch was served, it included a wooden basket filled with an assortment of breads, something I always enjoy exploring when traveling. Alongside the soft rolls and seeded slices, however, was something I didn’t recognize. It was thin, rather rustic in appearance, and looked more like a cracker than anything I would normally expect to find in a breadbasket. As I soon discovered, this was Schüttelbrot, one of South Tyrol’s most distinctive regional breads, and another addition to the growing list of foods I was trying for the first time that afternoon.

The name Schüttelbrot translates from German as “shaken bread,” which sounds a little peculiar until you learn how it’s made. Curious about what I’d eaten, I did a little research after our trip and discovered that its origins go back centuries, when families living in the mountains needed bread that could be stored for extended periods, particularly through the long Alpine winters. Rye was well suited to the region’s growing conditions, and baking it into thin, thoroughly dried rounds meant the bread could be kept for months without spoiling. Necessity may have been the original motivation, but the result is something quite different from the soft loaves most of us are accustomed to.

Schüttelbrot literally means "shaken bread,"

What makes Schüttelbrot especially intriguing is the technique used to shape it. Rather than rolling the dough flat, bakers traditionally place it on a round wooden board and shake it in a circular motion, gradually spreading the dough into a thin, uneven disc.

Once baked until crisp, the bread develops its characteristic brittle texture and wonderfully irregular appearance. I have to admit, the thought of trying to shake a piece of sticky rye dough into anything resembling a circle in my own kitchen sounds like an excellent way to make a considerable mess.

The flavor was what really caught my attention. Typically seasoned with fennel, caraway, and sometimes anise, Schüttelbrot has an earthy rye character with a subtle aromatic quality from the spices. I found it incredibly addictive. Each bite seemed to reveal something slightly different, and I kept reaching for another piece, trying to distinguish the individual ingredients and work out what gave the bread its distinctive flavor. It was crisp, fragrant, and far more interesting than its rather modest appearance might suggest. Traditionally enjoyed with South Tyrolean speck, cheese, or other cured meats, ours was served as part of the bread assortment, although I was perfectly content eating it on its own.

I always appreciate finding foods that reveal something about the place they come from, and Schüttelbrot certainly does that. What began as a practical way for mountain families to preserve bread has become a specialty still enjoyed throughout South Tyrol. I wouldn’t mind having a few rounds tucked away in my pantry at home, although I suspect I’d be far more inclined to bring some back from Italy than attempt the traditional shaking technique myself.

As we headed back inside to pay the bill, I spotted a tempting display of freshly baked pretzels near the counter. We’d already shared one with lunch, but after enjoying it so much, leaving without a few extras seemed almost irresponsible. After all, we still had plenty of driving ahead of us through the Dolomites, and having something to snack on along the way sounded like a perfectly sensible idea.

Whether they actually survived long enough to qualify as road trip snacks is another matter entirely.

When Deciding Where to Eat in the Dolomites, Think Beyond the Menu

By the time we wandered back toward the car, I was glad we’d decided to stop in Colma. The Isarco Valley had already treated us to some wonderful scenery that morning, and we still had plenty to see as we continued toward Val Gardena. Yet, sitting on that sunny terrace, enjoying a leisurely lunch and watching the afternoon unfold around us, I hadn’t been in any particular hurry to get back on the road. In fact, I could quite easily have pulled a book from my bag, taken another look at the wine list, which features selections from the surrounding Eisacktal (Valle Isarco) and greater Trentino-Alto Adige wine regions, and settled in for another hour or two. Unfortunately, our itinerary had other ideas.

I’ve always felt that some of the best parts of a road trip are the places you hadn’t necessarily planned to visit. Colma may not have been the grandest stop on our Dolomites itinerary, but it had certainly earned its place among our favorite discoveries of the day. Sometimes all it takes is a small village, an interesting bit of history, and a very good lunch to remind me why I enjoy traveling this way.

Know Before You Go

Finding Oberweger Bierstube

Durstkurort Bierstube Oberweger is located in the small village of Colma (Kollmann), along the historic SS12 Brenner Road in South Tyrol. The distinctive red building is easy to spot as you pass through the village, making it a convenient lunch stop if you’re traveling through the Isarco Valley on your way toward Val Gardena or exploring this part of the Dolomites.

Parking

One of the things I appreciated about stopping here was how easy it was to park. Designated spaces are located just steps from the restaurant, so we didn’t have to spend time navigating narrow village streets or searching for somewhere to leave the car. After a morning of driving and stopping for photographs, that was certainly a welcome change.

Thank you for coming along on another part of our Dolomites road trip.

I hope this little detour through Colma has given you a few ideas for exploring South Tyrol, particularly if you enjoy discovering local food, history, and places that don’t always receive much attention in the usual travel guides.

Have you visited South Tyrol, or discovered a restaurant during your travels that turned out to be much more than somewhere to stop for lunch? I’d enjoy hearing about it in the comments.

And if you ever find yourself leaving Italy with a bag of pretzels riding shotgun, just know you’re in good company.

About Elaine

Elaine is an international award-winning travel writer, wine writer, photographer, and WSET Level 3 wine professional who believes every destination has a story worth telling. Through Drink In Life, she explores wine, travel, gardens, books, food, and the quiet moments that make a life well lived.

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All text and images © 2017–2026 Elaine Luxton and Drink In Life LLC. Photography by Elaine Luxton / Drink In Nature Photography. International French 75 Day™ and French 75 Day™ are trademarks of Elaine Luxton. All rights reserved.

The Ultimate Dolomites Road Trip: Driving from Trento to Val Gardena

Posted on October 15, 2026 by drinkinlife

The Lowlands: The Terraced Valleys of Trentino

Leaving Trento behind, the road follows the broad valley north. If you’re expecting the dramatic peaks of the Dolomites to appear immediately, you’ll have to be a little patient. The mountains are coming, but first they let the landscape tell a different story.

Steep hillsides rise on both sides of the valley, carved into terraces where vineyards and orchards climb higher than I would have imagined possible. Looking up from the road, I couldn’t help but wonder how anyone farms some of these slopes. Row after row seemed to make use of every available patch of sunshine.

This part of Trentino has been shaped by its valleys for centuries. The combination of elevation, sunshine, and cool Alpine air creates a patchwork of small microclimates that have made the region one of Italy’s most respected wine-growing areas. As someone who loves wine, I found myself admiring the vineyards almost as much as the mountains that were slowly coming into view.

One of the best-known vineyard areas is the Piana Rotaliana, often described as one of Europe’s most beautiful vineyard landscapes. Surrounded by towering rock walls, vineyards spread across the valley floor while the mountains quietly remind you that the scenery is only going to become more dramatic from here.

We never planned a stop along this stretch of road. Instead, the drive unfolded one beautiful view at a time. A hillside vineyard. An old farmhouse. Light spilling across the terraces. Every few miles something else caught my eye, and before long my husband was hearing the same familiar request.

“Sorry, honey… can you find a place to pull over? I need some photos.”

By the end of the day, it had become my mantra.

Dolomites Road Trip: First Real Leg Stretch

A few miles beyond Bolzano, the road brought us to our first official stop of the day. The Cornedo Covered Bridge immediately caught my attention. Stretching across the fast-moving Isarco River, its weathered wood looked as though it had been standing there for generations, quietly watching travelers come and go. Built in the 1800s, the bridge once formed an important crossing into Val d’Ega, the valley leading toward the heart of the Dolomites.

Of course we pulled over.

At first, I thought I’d grab a couple of photos and we’d be back on the road in a few minutes. Instead, one photograph turned into another. Every angle seemed to frame something different. From one side, the bridge stood against towering cliffs. From another, it framed the rushing turquoise river below. Looking upstream, terraced vineyards climbed impossibly steep hillsides while old farmhouses seemed to cling to the landscape.

The longer we wandered, the more there was to discover.

A walking and cycling path followed the river, making it an easy place to stretch our legs after the drive. An old stone ruin peeked through the trees, a small church steeple rose above the rooftops, and tucked quietly off to one side were several colorful beehives.

I’ve always been fascinated by bees, so naturally they held my attention longer than they probably should have. While other travelers paused for a quick photograph of the bridge, I found myself watching bees coming and going as if I had nowhere else to be.

Eventually, though, the road was calling us north, and there was still plenty of Dolomite country waiting around the next bend.

The Shift: Winding Through the Isarco Valley

As the kilometers slipped by, the soft, rolling landscape of Trentino gradually gave way to something altogether different. The valley narrowed, the air felt a little crisper, and the mountains began pressing closer to the road. Ahead, the first gray cliffs hinted at the dramatic Dolomite peaks still waiting in the distance.

For thousands of years, this valley has been one of the great passageways through the Alps. Roman roads, merchants, pilgrims, and travelers all followed this same natural corridor between northern and southern Europe.

Sitting behind the wheel, it wasn’t difficult to understand why. The mountains leave you very few choices.

Not long after the cliffs began to close in around us, we arrived in the small village of Colma (Kollmann). Tucked quietly beside the Isarco River, it felt like the perfect place to step away from the car and slow the pace for a while.

It was here that we stumbled upon Durstkurort Bierstube Oberweger, an unassuming roadside stop where the mountain air carried the unmistakable aroma of warm pretzels, hearty sausages, and well-worn wood. It was exactly the kind of place we hope to find on road trips like this.

We’ll pull up a chair there in the next article.

The Fortress in the Cliffs: Spotting Castel Trostburg

Not long after leaving Colma, the road continues north through the narrowing Isarco Valley toward the tiny village of Ponte Gardena (Waidbruck). It was along this stretch that I glanced up, and before I could say a word, my husband laughed. “Don’t say it. I’m pulling over.”

Perched high above the valley, Castel Trostburg seems to grow straight out of the rock itself. Its pale stone walls blend so naturally into the mountainside that, at first glance, it almost disappears into the cliffs before revealing itself as one of South Tyrol’s most impressive medieval castles.

Built in the 12th century, the fortress once watched over the important trade route running through the Isarco Valley. Centuries later, it became home to the medieval poet and knight Oswald von Wolkenstein, whose travels and writings made him one of the region’s most celebrated historical figures.

We didn’t make the steep climb to explore the castle itself. Instead, we found a safe place to pull over near the base of the hill and simply admired it from below. Sometimes that’s enough.

From every angle the castle seemed to tell a different story. The fortress rising from solid rock. The smaller towers tucked into the hillside. Every time I thought I’d found my favorite composition, I’d notice another.

Eventually we climbed back into the car, leaving the castle to keep watch over the valley as it has for centuries.

The Moment the Dolomites Appear

Leaving Ponte Gardena behind, we turned onto the SS242 and began the climb into Val Gardena. The road gradually winds higher through forests and quiet villages, and with every bend it feels as though the mountains are drawing a little closer.

Then, almost without warning, they appear.

Rising above the rooftops of Ortisei is the unmistakable silhouette of the Sassolungo (Langkofel) massif. Even after spending the morning surrounded by dramatic scenery, nothing quite prepares you for your first real view of these towering limestone peaks. They seem almost impossibly large, their pale stone faces still streaked with late-season snow as they rise above the dark evergreen forests below.

We found a safe place to pull over, climbed out of the car, and simply stood there for a few minutes. There wasn’t much to say. This was the moment I reached for my longer lens. The mountain still felt impossibly far away, but through the viewfinder every ridge, snowfield, and jagged tower suddenly came to life.

The closer we drove, the smaller everything else seemed to become. Houses, churches, even the surrounding hills all faded into the background while Sassolungo completely commanded the horizon.

It was one of those moments that reminded me why road trips are different from almost any other kind of travel. You don’t arrive all at once. You watch a landscape slowly unfold until, before you realize it, you’ve entered an entirely different world.

Among the Peaks

The last few kilometers to Passo Gardena didn’t feel like the end of the drive. They felt like entering another world.

The road climbed steadily through the final switchbacks before opening onto a broad mountain pass where winter hadn’t quite decided to leave. The pavement was completely clear, but on either side of the road snow still blanketed the meadows, interrupted only by patches of tawny grass beginning to emerge beneath the warm spring sun.

We parked the car and did what we’d been doing all day. We started exploring.

The farther we wandered, the smaller we felt.

Towering limestone walls surrounded us from every direction, their weathered faces streaked with snow that had settled into every crack, ledge, and crevice. Every time I thought I’d seen it all, another detail caught my eye.

Scattered across the pass were reminders that this wasn’t simply a scenic overlook. Rustic wooden huts stood quietly beneath cliffs that looked almost impossible to comprehend. A weathered roadside shrine overlooked the valley, as though it had been keeping watch over travelers for generations. Nearby, trail signs pointed toward mountain huts several hours away, their arrows disappearing into a landscape.

I glanced at one of the signs, briefly wondered what it would be like to spend the next four hours climbing into those mountains, and decided I was perfectly happy admiring them from right where I was.

One of the things I loved most about Passo Gardena was the contrast.

You are greeted by a scattered collection of sun-weathered, dark timber huts. Strikingly rustic against the bright snowbanks, their hand-painted wooden signs offer a bilingual nod to the region’s blended heritage: Articoli da Ricordo and Holzschnitzereien—souvenirs and traditional Ladin woodcarvings. But it is what sits directly behind these humble cabins that steals your breath.

Looming over the pass are the Cir Peaks (Pizes de Cir). Their pale limestone walls rise almost straight out of the earth, dusted heavily with fresh snow that settles into every ledge and crevice. Standing there in the warm sunshine, listening to the quiet drip of melting snow, I realized just how different this place felt from everywhere else we had driven that day.

Nothing competed with the mountains. Everything simply existed alongside them.

I could have filled this article with twice as many photographs and another thousand words, and it still wouldn’t have captured everything that caught my attention. That’s one of the things I love most about places like Passo Gardena. Every visitor leaves with something different. One person remembers the ski slopes. Another remembers the hiking trails. I found myself lingering over the weathered wooden huts, the quiet roadside shrine, and the way the mountains seemed to dwarf everything around them. Our memories may all be different, but I have a feeling the sense of standing at the top of the world is something we all take home.

Eventually it was time to begin the drive back toward Trento.

As we wound our way down the mountain, the towering peaks slowly slipped behind us, one by one, until they disappeared behind the forests that had hidden them only a few hours earlier. What surprised me most was how different the drive felt in the opposite direction. The same road somehow offered an entirely new perspective. Mountains we had admired on the climb up now appeared in the rearview mirror. Curves we had already driven revealed views we hadn’t noticed before.

Of course, I couldn’t resist one last stop.

With a local bottle of Bolla Lugana tucked into the car, I found a quiet spot in the snow to capture one final photograph. It wasn’t about opening the bottle or celebrating the end of the drive. It simply felt like the perfect way to remember a day spent surrounded by some of the most remarkable scenery we’ve ever experienced.

This Dolomites road trip from Trento to Val Gardena reminded me that not every unforgettable day has to end with a strenuous hike or a bucket-list summit (although it doesn’t hurt). Sometimes all it takes is a beautiful road, a reliable camera, someone willing to pull over one more time, and the curiosity to see what’s waiting around the next bend.

Thank you for coming along with me on this drive through the winding roads of the Dolomites. I hope these photographs and stories have given you a glimpse of just how special this corner of northern Italy is. If the opportunity ever comes your way, I can’t recommend it enough.

Our stop in the tiny village of Colma ended up stealing my heart and deserved a story of its own. In Part Two, I’ll step inside a traditional South Tyrolean tavern, where a simple lunch of sausages, pretzels, and local hospitality tells the story of a region shaped by two cultures.

This Dolomites road trip was only one part of my time in this beautiful corner of northern Italy. Before heading into the mountains, Trento gave me plenty of reasons to linger, which I share in my Trento Travel Guide: The Best Northern Italy Base. My time there also led me into the surrounding vineyards for A Single Day in Trento Unlocks Italy’s Greatest Mountain Wines, where the dramatic landscape, people, and wines revealed another side of Trentino altogether.

Have you ever driven through the Dolomites, or is it still waiting for a place on your travel wish list? Let me know in the comments below.

About Elaine

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