When you’re traveling in Greece, you’ll find yourself eating in tavernas. They’re uniquely Greek – not a fast food in sight — so they’re the perfect way to immerse yourself in the local culture. Look for the sign “TABEPNA”; but don’t try pronouncing it that way.
Dodecanese islands. Four ALA fan-atics trying to relax (Barbara is second from left) at maybe the only taverna in a working boatyard.
Tavernas are friendly, casual and relatively inexpensive, like their English tavern cousins. No spotted dick or bangers and mash, but they do have another thing in common: real English watering holes serve their ales and lagers warm, and with the exception of freshly grilled fish and meats, that’s the temperature of most taverna food. The perfectly good explanation is that everything is prepared early in the morning before the hot sun takes all the Bacchanalian joy out of cooking. So by the time you come off the beach, showered or sandy, there aren’t any heat waves rising off your moussaka. But don’t let that turn you off. Almost every Greek dish tastes delicious warm.
What to order? Many tavernas have hand-painted signs displaying their offerings. Like Japanese restaurants, they try to entice you with gaudy illustrations that bear little resemblance to anything you’d knowingly eat. Unlike their Japanese counterparts, however, their English menu translations are positively mesmerizing: “peasant salat with crusty broad”; “spacey beef balls”; “orange jewz.”
Early morning on the tip of the Pelion Peninsula. You're going to ask if the fish is fresh?
The very good news is that you can usually walk right into the kitchen to see for yourself. Lids come off pots, covers off casseroles, trays of fish are brought from the fridge for your inspection. Ignore what your mother taught you; point.
Your waiter will cover your table with a fresh paper cloth, often a map of this very island. (Warning: Do Not Navigate By This Map!) And before you ask for silverware, unfurl the neat napkin rolls lying at the bottom of the bread basket.
Now that Greece belongs to the EC (European Community), fish is expensive. Octopus and squid are pretty reasonable, but you’ll want to splash out once in a while. Cipoura, melanouri and barbounia are sweet and tender local catches. Before you order any fish, look it straight in the eye; unclouded and dark is the key to freshness. When it arrives, simply grilled, and decorated with lemon slices, rosemary twigs and tomatoes, expect to say hello to its head, and to filet it yourself. I suggest you watch the Greek at the next table and then imitate. There will still be bones, so avoid tricky subjects while you’re eating. Note: You’re going to attract a hundred cats, ready to help out with the skeleton. DON’T put these on the ground near your chair; your waiter will go ballistic. Plus few cats really know the word “down.” You might wrap it in a napkin and stroll to the periphery of the taverna, where the cat army generally camps.
The Greeks are masters of casseroles and stews: moussaka, pastitsio, stifatho. Chicken, beef, lamb and goat come baked in a sauce (trans. tomatoes in oil and herbs.) Lahanika – vegetables — are overcooked but yummy, having marinated since dawn. When I first came to Greece, vegetables were few; I thought okra belonged on the flag. But there’s a lot more choice now. Try horta, which translates as “field” but is so much tastier than weeds. Or zucchini flowers stuffed with the local soft cheese. Ahh….
10am at my favorite beach bar. It opens at 11. I'm sorry I can't tell you where.
Of course everything’s better with wine. Hee’ma – house wine – is inexpensive and often good, especially the local resinated white.
Local is the magic word. Every region and every island has its unique dishes. Swim ‘til you’re ravenous. Then coraggio! You’re traveling! Try things you won’t find anywhere else. Spacey beef balls anyone?
Barbara Bonfigli is the author of “Café Tempest: Adventures on a Small Greek Island” (cafetempest.com) and the host of a series of short, savvy Greek Travel Tip videos.
