“It is drinkable,” teased Stefano with a glint in his eye as glasses of a magnificent Cuvee Marianne were poured and tried around the chunky wooden table. We were assembled for aperitivo at his beautiful chalet in the Dolomites, San Lorenzo Deer Lodge, surrounded by row after row of Lagrein wines.

Next, he leapt up to finely slice speck, a lightly smoked pork that is typical of the South Tyrol, winding his “Ferrari of meat slicers” into action as he excitedly told us we would never taste better. A consummate host, Stefano has an infectious passion for the mountains that surround his lodge, his land and the beasts that roam it, as well as the myriad farmers and producers he works with to keep his guests fed and watered.

Upstairs in the traditional, wooden-clad chalet, his wife Georgia does all the cooking, making the most of the Ladin larder—often venison from just a few hundred metres away. Dinners are hearty, multi-coursed and Dolomiti classics: we feast on warming parsley soup, ravioli with potato and fonduta and kaiserschmarrn for dessert. Each dish is expertly paired with a local wine by Stefano. I soon realise that this is the charm of the lodge, and the Dolomites: a culture and a passion for land that is so authentic it redefines how you perceive luxury. There are jeroboams of champagne, but there’s also a quiet simplicity that’s harder and harder to come by as a traveller. You can land your helicopter for convenience, but your children can also help to churn butter for your breakfast.

We were in the “Pale Mountains” for a ski safari, but in truth, it felt equal parts cultural and food safari. Days of physical exertion were powered by Georgia’s homemade yoghurts and jams, freshly squeezed juices and local eggs. We stopped on pistes for morning Bombardinos—a heady mix of eggnog and brandy that is the Italian Alps’s answer to eggnog—and refuelled at lunch with warming bowls of gnocchi al ragu at lunchtime. We were shepherded from cosy mountain hut to slope and back again by local legend Mario Delmongo. Having grown up in nearby Arabba, Mario knows every run, lift and barman in the Dolomites. 

The next day, a helicopter delivered us to the slopes in the early morning, swooping and swerving among the Dolomites’s plateaus on a particularly blue skied day. At lunchtime at Rifugio Averau, local red wine flows and trios of pasta are served, including the very typical beetroot-filled ravioli and potato ravioli packed with ricotta, fig and cinnamon. In the afternoon, we took to the skies once more and landed at Sofie Hut in Santa Cristina, where we sampled the owner’s new Amaro digestif, made using hyperlocal herbs. Of course, there is some skiing in between.

Our second stop of the ski safari was down the slopes of Val Gardena into the picturesque town of Canazei, at Locanda degli Artisti–family-run and food-obsessed, like so many hotels, restaurants and rifugios in the Dolomites. The Rossis prepare us an epic tasting menu, which is a love letter to their region with dishes such as fried veal head and creamy barley risotto with beetroot, Moena blue cheese, black garlic and apple. Naturally, the wines are local too, with Trentodocs and Pinot Neros selected by the sommelier.

Manuela and Sergio Rossi are also the brains and heart behind our final stop, the deliciously secluded Rifugio Fuciade, which, in winter, you can only reach by skidoo. Typical of the region, rifugios are rustic restaurants with simple rooms that guests can roll up to after a day’s skiing, hiking or simply eating. At this one, the views are postcard-perfect and the food is sensational. After Manuela has shown us around the vast cellar, where the rifugio’s own cheeses and meats are also made and hung, we sit down for our final dose of Dolomiti gastronomy. Ciajoncie filled with wild pears and figs, dusted with poppy seeds. Potato spaghetti with truffle fondue. Browned venison with broccoli and anchovies. As with every mouthful on this safari through the Italian Alps, it is rooted in tradition, place and quality—and is quietly luxurious.