Perched on a hill in the settlement of Šentjošt nad Horjulom, Grič’s dining boasts sweeping views over the valleys to the nearby hills. A goat farm that supplies meat and cheese lays just beyond, a duck farm isn’t far away. I’ll be told that the ducks have free range of the land and three swimming pools; a fence protects them from foxes. Sometimes they’ll fly away but they always return. who would give up three swimming pools?

I’ll learn this during my visit in conversation with Nate and with Chef Luca Košir. What his parents had started in 1993 was taken over by Chef Luca Košir in 2009 and expanded into its current incarnation, fed by his curiosity and desire to serve the best food possible made with locally-sourced ingredients.

It’s an overcast morning in Ljubljana when I set out for the restaurant, some 30 minutes away from the city. I walk to a park on the edge of the Old City and call a taxi, which arrives quickly. Soon we’re heading out of the city and into the countryside. A light frost covers the ground.

As we drive further from the city the skies clear revealing a brilliant blue. We drive through small towns and hamlets, past fields and through valleys until we start winding our way up to Šentjošt nad Horjulom and the restaurant.

I’m thirty minutes early for my reservation and take the opportunity to explore the town. I backtrack down the direct road that leads to the restaurant until I’m on the main street and walk back towards the church. Valleys fall to either side of the town, the distant mountains hazy on the horizon.

When I first arrived there were groups of people leaving the church and heading towards a cultural center in the middle of town. They’re gathered there in the parking lot as I wander; it’s almost as if the entire town is out.

Checking the time I begin to walk back to the restaurant, not wanting to be late for my reservation. They have a generous 30-minute grace period, but I’m eager to be seated and started.

Nate greets me when I arrive back at the restaurant. Eugene? he says. How did you know? It’s almost noon and you’re one, the only table for one this afternoon. You’re a little early still, he tells me, and offers to show me the aging rooms and the wine cellar.

He leads me downstairs and shows me the first room, where they’ve been aging fish. He apologizes, telling me that they’re in the process of cleaning and moving things around. The remains of a tuna hangs alone. He tells me all the food is locally-sourced, most within 10 kilometers. He tells me they have vegetable and herb gardens—including a wasabi garden—surrounding the restaurant. The goats are sourced from a family farm just over the adjacent hill (the son of the family works in the kitchen). He tells me I might see the goats on the hillside during my meal. The seafood is all wild and sourced from the Adriatic. They only use line-caught fish. The fresh water fish is farmed nearby and fed naturally so they grow slowly.

The next room is to be used for cheese. Salt bricks line the walls, which is great for keeping the humidity down for aging meats and fish, but dries out cheese. They need much more humidity for that and they’ve begun prepping this room, putting up a glass wall to seal it from the salt while preserving the beauty of the light that passes through.

The final room is where they age their meats. A rack stands to the side with chains. Nate tells me that sometimes it’s best to lay beef flat for aging. The wine cellar sits next door, though bottles have overflowed into the room itself. Later I’ll ask Nate about their cellar and he’ll tell me they currently carry around 400 labels. Eighty to ninety percent of the wines are Slovenian; he keeps some international wines to challenge the locals. They had cut the number of labels down as they’ve refined their the understanding between the wine and the food, but he hopes to increase the number of labels over the coming year.

A final room is dedicated to fermentation. Nate tells me that at any given time a number of different things could be engaged in the fermentation process. He points to a small store they have set up. The vats are large and the restaurant can’t use up everything that it makes.

Back upstairs Nate offers me the choice of two tables. One is set up before the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook the town. It’s beautiful, and Nate tells me it’s even more beautiful in the snow. I ask if there’s a ski resort; I had seen lifts. He tells me it’s a beginners slope and that many people teach their kids to ski here.

The other table is set in the kitchen. He tells me they always set up the kitchen table option for single diners, assuming that they, especially, are there for the food. I choose the kitchen table and watch as the chefs begin plating the first set of snacks.

Nate asks me if I’d like a glass of Slovenian sparkling wine to start and to open up the palette. I had originally thought I’d be good and not drink, but I haven’t yet let myself sample Slovenian wines and agree to the wine. He then asks if I’d like to do the pairing. I tell him I think I’l start with a glass and see how it goes. He tells me he can do a lighter pairing of five or six half glasses vs the usual nine. I tell him that sounds perfect.

By the time I’m through the snacks and the first course (a delicious smoked fish) I’ve asked Nate for the full pairing. He tells me he’ll keep the pours light but I can always ask for more. The dishes are beautifully plated, often finished at the table. All of the wines are local to Slovenia and Nate tells me about the wines as he pours, sometimes offering anecdotes about the wine makers. He tells me it took a lot of traveling and cultivating relationships with wine makers. One won’t sell his wines to people unless he trusts them.

I ask him how they formulate their pairings, whether they hold an idea of the wines they have cellared or whether it all comes from the kitchen. He tells me Chef Luca Košir will have ideas on the menu and share them with the team, which starts his mind working on what might work with the food. In the past he once had to try ten different wines before they found a proper pairing. They’re much better at it now. he also tells me that in the past they bought bottles that never worked; he’s also much better at curating labels.

Over the course of my meal more tables are filled. Nate tells me they generally seat 26 people; this afternoon they have 25 covers. I watch as the courses I’ve had are made again and plated, the kitchen a smooth operation working in an unhurried manner, perfectly choreographed.

At the end of the meal I take a coffee and ask for the check. Nate tells me I can pay in the front. He tells me that this area is for enjoyment; no one enjoys paying the bill.

Before I go I stop to take a few more photos. Chef Košir thanks me for coming and tells me that if I let them know in advance next time I can come earlier and they’ll show me the goat and duck farms. I ask him when duck season is (currently it’s venison season; deer heart sashimi was a starter and a venison steak was the main). He tells me it starts when the temperature drops below 0°C for ten days. That’s when the ducks grow their winter feathers and start storing fat. They dry pluck their ducks and winter feathers are easier to pluck.

I ask him how he started and he tells me about how this used to be his parents’ restaurant. Initially it was just the first room and then his parents built out the current dining room. He designed and built the kitchen after he took over. He takes pride in the cratsmanship, telling me how difficult it was to obtain the wood for the counters. Local caftsman built it all out.

He points to a grill in the back and tells me he wants to get a wood grill, replacing the charcoal. Everything else is induction, but sometimes you need fire.

Another course is being prepared and he excuses himself to attend to the dishes. I thank him for his time and promise to make proper arrangements next time. I’d love to visit the farms.

Back in the front room I wait for Nate to pay my bill. I ask him to call me a cab. He tells me it’ll be a little while as they have to come from Ljubljana. I tell him I am in no rush.

I’ve been at the restaurant almost four hours and the sun is starting to set. I had asked Nate how long he’d been at the restaurant; it’s been five years. I’m curious about how the restaurant is staffed and he breaks down the numbers. He tells me that the bottleneck these days is service. He tells me the kitchen could do more covers but they can’t find enough people for service. He tells me in Germany they’ve had to cut their tables by twenty to thirty percent. It’s been a problem since covid; a lot of people have gone into the delivery business. There’s more money and the work is easier.

The cab arrives and I say goodbye to Nate, wishing him a happy holiday season. As we wind down the road i ask her to stop so that i can take a photo of the valley at dusk.

The driver’s name is Tara. She’s been driving a cab for about ten years, since she graduated university. She studied logistics but couldn’t find a job; you needed experience to land a job, but you couldn’t land a job to get the experience. We talk about the love Americans have for the holidays, Christmas and especially New Year’s Eve in New York City, language, and geopolitics. It’s a fantastic ride.

In the city she drops me off at the Park Zvezda. I tell her I know where I am; my apartment is on the other side of the river just below the castle. As i leave i give her my WhatsApp number in case she wants to continue chatting. I wish her the best and join the city crowds. 🇸🇮