A whiff of Paris (Άρωμα Παρισιού)

I'm a bit of a σπιτόγατος, so I appreciated the offer of a friend last night to meet up with her in town. It was a mild winter's evening, quite a change from the very cold temperatures that we experienced over the Christmas and New Year period. The town was not at all enticing on this night as it had just started drizzling, it was rather dark, and there were hardly any people walking with us. Quite surprisingly, many of the cafes and restaurants were closed in the area where we were walking, which seemed strange, as one would think that this is the time when people would be out making merry. But the New Year's holiday was pretty much over, and the next day was a normal working Monday. We walked along one lonely street after another, often in the company of more stray cats than human beings. At one point, we stopped to admire the display at a clothes store. "Very chic!" we both agreed.

We continued to walk towards our destination which was a cafe located on a side street close to the cathedral of Hania. As soon as we entered Eisodion St, the atmosphere changed. The street was lined with cafes and tables, which were all looking quite full, despite the rain. Awnings had been placed on both sides of the street above the businesses, which shielded the patrons of the half dozen businesses that were doing brisk trade in the area. There were no empty seats indoors, so we took an outdoor table at Sketi Glyka where we had a great vantage point with the whole street in view.

The cafe has been open for about three years in Hania, and it has a good following. It's very popular among young people, with a reputation based mainly on the high quality French-style pastries made on the premises, which make it original to Hania. It is also popular as a dessert restaurant, and serves nice warm drinks to go with its sweet offerings.

  

These days, novel businesses that rely on local rather than tourist custom pay great attention to details like decor, a far cry from the plastic-lined paper tablecloth of the traditional Greek summertime taverna. Businesses in Hania constantly have to juggle between different tastes on extreme ends, something which proves difficult when the two different kinds of clientele are cohabiting the same space. It's easier to do this in the winter when the tourist go, and the town is taken back by the locals.

Our tourists from abroad - both Greek and non-Greek alike - decry the modernism of new-style Greek businesses, slandering them as blasphemously non-traditional in a 'traditional' country like Greece. They forget that the average Greek citizen is just as modern as they are, and seeks the same globalised lifestyle that they themselves are enjoying in tier respective countries.

All the while that I was sipping my chili-mango flavoured tea, I couldn't help feeling a little smug about having found a bit of Paris in my own hometown, without the threat of terrorism. Every country has its own problems, but that particular problem is not at all particular to Greece. No one is immune to terrorism, but our own form of home-grown terrorism is quite different to that of France.

Bonus photo: Christmas lights in Hania - Christmas isn't over for us here until Epiphany, and the post-Christmas sales start in mid-January, not Boxing Day.

©All Rights Reserved/Organically cooked. No part of this blog may be reproduced and/or copied by any means without prior consent from Maria Verivaki.

Awake in my dreams (Δεν κοιμόμουνα στα όνειρά μου)

«I hope it was a dream where I was awake», Marie Dumont wrote, as the introductory sentence in her essay on her experiences taking part in a student exchange programme when she left her native France and came to MAICh, Crete, Greece, to continue her studies through the ERASMUS Programme. Marie asked me to edit her work, as this essay was entered into a competition where the winner will be announced in May at the ERASMUS graduation ceremony in Athens, for the students who took part in the programme in Greece last year.

Although Marie's essay wasn't chosen, I was touched by her description of the time she spent in Crete during the cold winter, especially when I saw her return to Crete with some more French students the following year, because they had missed the island so much. Marie's narrative is a love story between her and the island. I reprint here for you to read, with her blessing. The photos are mine, from the last internal MAICh graduation ceremony.

"I’m not sure I’ll be able to find the appropriate words to describe this five-month adventure, but I’m going to try. Let me carry you into my memories about my unforgettable exchange period through the Erasmus programme…

"Follow me in Crete, in the lovely area of Chania, in its countryside where is hidden the Mediterranean Agronomic Institute of Chania (MAICh). From outside, it seems to be a very quiet place, made in an ancient style…but come closer and you’ll meet students from all around the Mediterranean, living together as a family.


"I was welcomed by a Lebanese girl, Souad, who explained to me about how life is organized at MAICh, and she introduced me to my future lab colleagues in the Horticultural Genetics and Biotechnology Department. “This is Marie, from France, and she is going to stay with us for the next five months.” After lunch, Alaä, took over from her. Alaä was like a mum for everyone at MAICh. “Since you are the youngest,” she told me, “MAICh is your new family… welcome!” I didn’t get at this moment the meaning of these words but after a few weeks, I realized how much it was true. I’ll never forget this first day.

"Then, I met the other students, “my new family”, such a warm welcome, everyone was curious and also proud to represent their country: Greece (of course), Tunisia, Algeria, Germany, Italy, FYR Macedonia, France, Georgia, Armenia, Lebanon, Italy… a real melting pot! Of course, you can notice the cultural differences but everyone is living together without any prejudices.


"Through traditional nights, we could learn more about the other countries. We had a Maghrebine night, for which the students from Algeria, Tunisia and Morocco cooked all day long traditional meals for the entire institute and decorated the restaurant with flags, flowers and pictures. After the dinner they presented, one by one, the three countries that constitute the Maghreb, with pastries and mint tea. We carried on by dancing to oriental music… it was an unforgettable night!

"Another amazing evening was the Palestinian one, a highly emotional one, as we could feel their need to tell us more about their history and the daily persecution, but to show us also the richness of the Palestinian people and culture.


"Actually, I enjoyed every day spent there and I cannot focus on one only… I’m sure you understand that MAICh is a special place, so no one can forget his stay there.

"I’m a rich girl now, my mind is full of memories, rich because I’ve learnt a lot about our differences, I’ve discovered a wonderful island with its culture and I’ve met precious friends… yes… I cannot omit to speak about five special people, the five main characters in this story, who changed me, who made this period of my life probably the best I’ve ever had: Coraline, Marianna, Nizar, Bastien and Limon, with whom I shared all my laughs and memories. I can never thank them enough. I had the time of my life. Every day I still wake up and wonder if it was true or just a dream.

"Everyone thinks that to leave to an unknown country is the hardest part in the Erasmus experience, and, indeed, it really hurts to say goodbye, and I really hope this is just a goodbye! Αγαπώ τους φίλους μου!


"Epilogue: And so it was! I had the chance to meet them again one week at MAICh, one year later, just to get together one more time... to remind us of the good times we had spent together, which lent a new lease of life to our friendship! This is proof that they are true friends. You changed my life, guys! I wish for all students to take this chance and live the same Erasmus experience as I did!"

It is not my style to instruct my readers to visit Crete or come to Greece for their summer holidays, because I think that people make up their minds about where to take their holidays in different ways; I certainly don't need anyone to direct me in my choice of holiday. But after I read Marie's story, it made me realise that maybe we all need to come to Crete at one point in our lives.

©All Rights Reserved/Organically cooked. No part of this blog may be reproduced and/or copied by any means without prior consent from Maria Verivaki.

The way we were: Down and out in Paris, not London (Ελληνίδα στο Παρίσι)

Next stop for the Greek girl who went to London is Paris, the first place down-unders usually headed to from London when they began their continental travels. But it's a totally different world across the ditch, especially when you're a SWF.

 Thursday, 6/7/91 - 4pm Like another planet on the other side of the Channel. Got off the ferry boat on time, then got onto the train for Paris. Didn't leave on time. It's really really slow. Stops at every station and stays there for ages. Still on it. Best thing I've seen all day is the white cliffs of Dover. Hope it's not going to be pitch dark when I arrive in Paris.

On stepping outside Gare du Nord (Paris's Eurostar connection), you will be greeted with pollution, congestion and filth, together with the masses of emigres that congregate here. It's quite a different picture from London's St Pancras Eurostar station.

Friday, 5/7/91 - 6.05pm Haven't hit it off well with Paris at all. Probably due to the fact that big cities everywhere around the world are plagued with pollution, emigre workers, a fast pace, and impersonal charcater. None of this interests me. I can see right through their tourist traps. If you don't go and see them, there's not much else to 'see' in the city without a local showing you around. London would have been the same kind of tourist trap for me if it weren't for Q. 

Screevers, pavement artists, at Centre Pompidou, Paris: "The derivation of ‘screever’ is mysterious. It must come ultimately from scribo, but there has been no similar word in English for the past hundred and fifty years; nor can it have come directly from the French, for pavement artists are unknown in France." (George Orwell, 1933, Down and Out in Paris and London)

Almost ended up not getting a room. The North African at the accommodation help desk singled out the first five people in the queue and then closed the window  - I was one of the five. He gave us the address of a hotel that had five beds free, gave us directions for the metro (en francais, of course) and then left us at God's will. We took the train to Poissonerie. My friends were luckier than me - they all had small change for the train ticket. The cow at the ticket counter was screeching her head off when I gave her a large note. She wouldn't give me the right change, even when I explained that I didn't have any other money. I was ripped off. As we all walked to the platform barriers, a man ran past us a the speed of lightning. I thought he was a pickpocket or something and got a little scared. He jumped straight over the turnstile barrier.

Motorcyclists protesting about their rights on Paris roads - we all need to vent at times; interestingly, this lot vented at the weekend - it's less disruptive that way (Greek strikes always take place on a weekday - that way, protesters and strikers can enjoy their weekends).

Sharing a room with two sisters. The two boys among us got the other room. They were all from the US. The landlord spoke to us in French. He explained the use of the bathroom, that it was on another floor, but if we stayed more than one night, then we could use the bathroom on the same floor as the room. He asked us if we understood what he was saying, and we all nodded. Then he asked us in English to translate everything he said into English. The Americans looked at each other shitting themselves. I was the only one who understood. He complimented me on my French. TG for Mrs Goddard. 

As we climbed the steps to Sacre Coeur, we instructed the children (in Greek) not to be noisy while we were in the church. No sooner had we spoken than we heard someone who was kneeling near the entrance whispering "Vo-i-tia parakalo" ("Help, please" in Greek) as we passed him.

Walked to Sacre Coeur this morning. Taking photographs can be controversial. An artist spat 'merde' at me when I took a photo of the view from the church. I wasn't even taking him! Visited the Montmartre cemetery. Full of tourists. Feel like hiding, but I can't because I'm one of them myself. What the hell was I doing in a cemetery anyway? Weather's better than London, but the sky looks covered in smoke. View from top of the hill not clear at all. So different to Wellington, when it's not raining. The parks aren't as nice as in London. People aren't as nice either - was served badly at a restaurant (why did I bother to tip?!) and was given wrong directions. Finally got back to hotel and had a short rest - the atmosphere is so stuffy in the city! Or maybe I was exhausted. Later visited Arc de Triomphe. Let's Go tells me the view's worth it - couldn't see anything different from what I saw at Sacre Coeur! Walked over the Seine. The bridges are really romantic.

 

 View of the Champs Elysses from the Arc de Triomphe: it all looks better from up high; the beggars, mendicants, supplicants, tramps and other transients aren't visible from this point. 

Walking around all day makes you tired, but I can't get any decent sleep because the beds don't have proper pillows, just long thin hard ones that make your neck sore. Ended up throwing it off the bed. 115F B&B, 100F lunch and dinner.

Saturday, 6/7/91 - 7.00pm Began using my Eurail pass today. Took me ages to get it validated. French prats sent me from one office to the other. Then it took another eon to get to the right train platform. Went to Fontainebleau. Glad to get out of smoggy stuffy Paris. The palace was a bit wasted on me. I expected to see something ancient, but got gold-tinted furniture instead. Spent most of the time wandering around the park and forest areas. Came across a couple of weddings taking place in the grounds. No need to go to Versailles now. I think I've seen it all. 

 
Bread, cheese and cured meats: these items created lasting happy memories of our trip to Paris.

115F B$B, 13F palace, 100F food which should last a few days - bread, lettuce, cheese, fruit. The landlord was really friendly. I think he appreciated that I spoke French. He said most tourists say they speak French but don't understand when spoken to.

Sunday, 7/7/91 - 7:00pm What a day! Went to church this morning, rue la Ferriere. Arrived too early because I thought the service would start as early as in the London churches. Mixture of peasanty-urbane Greeks. Most are French-speaking. Didn't talk to anyone because no one showed the slightest interest in talking to a foreigner. The priest was the worst of the lot. He wanted to leave the church as soon as possible after the service because he was going on holidays.

 "S'il vous plait monsieur, merci monsieur." There were a lot of Roma gypsy women hanging around outside Notre Dame. Interestingly, these women looked different and dressed differently from the ones we see in Greece.

Strolled around Ile de la Cite. More cemeteries, a lot of people gawking over JM's grave. Took the metro just before dusk to cross over to the Eiffel Tower, just to see it lit up. While I was browsing through the postcards stand, a man approached me. I caught the words "prendre du cafe" before I walked off. At least that one looked clean-shaven. As I was walking up the Tower, an grubby-looking porky middle-aged man with a hairy chest tried to pick me up. Kept asking me if I was 'romantique'. Can't have been French, had a strong accent. I was walking faster than him, so he lost me eventually once I got into the cinema. Great little film on the history of the tower over the ages. Glad I went to the Eiffel Tower after Sacre Coeur and Arc de Triomphe. No need to go right to the top - saw it all before.

The gorilla wouldn't go away until we took a photo of him (and paid him his dues, naturally).

More station crap - took me 1 1/2 hours to book a ticket to Luxembourg because the silly girl at the counter didn't know how to do it. Metro is great for people-watching. Everyone here is over-sexed. They're all doing it  in public - young, old, parents, etc. That's probably why men view me as attractive. They can see that I'm completely alone. Most people around me aren't.

Monday, 8/7/91 AM  Getting to Gare de L'Est was an experience in itself. So many beggars all over the place. Weird experience on the metro: nearly all the people were black on the Pere Lachaise line. A lot of women begging, even children. They call out to you ('Madame'), then they show you a card which says something like 'Spare the change' en francais. Lots of people checking bins. No wonder - tourists throw out a lot of stuff. On my way to Luxembourg. 

beggar: n., person asking for charity, syn. asker, borrower, bum, deadbeat, hobo, mendicant, panhandler, rustler, scrounger, supplicant, supplicator, tramp, vagabond

Monday, 8/7/91 - 10.00pm Finally, a clean city! Ultra-friendly people, both French and German spoken. No room at the YHA tonight, so had to find a room elsewhere. VERY expensive. Can't believe how much one city changes from the other in so little time. Language, attitude, services, everything. Paris seems so inhospitable compared to Luxembourg. Can't wait to get to Athens to start writing up all these notes more formally* - so much changes so quickly every few kilometres.

*** *** ***

When you're alone, the megapolis can be rather daunting. The story depicts what I saw when I visited Paris for the first time in July 1991; the photos were taken nearly two decades later (March 2010) during a family holiday.

The way I like to remember Paris. It doesn't seem to have changed so much from George Orwell's time: the down-and-outs are still surviving, but screevers have also appeared.

(to be continued)

 *I can't believe I actually wrote this in my diary, but since it's my own handwriting, I suppose I really did.

*** *** ***

The above excerpts are based on the diary I kept of my travels, while the photos all come from my second trip to Paris with my family, two decades later. It was quite a cultural adventure for the Greek girl left who left antipodean Wellington in mid-June, passing through subservient tourist Bangkok, swinging London and romantic Paris, before arriving in Athens three months later. By the time I left Paris, I was a globetrotter rather than a Greek girl.

©All Rights Reserved/Organically cooked. No part of this blog may be reproduced and/or copied by any means without prior consent from Maria Verivaki.

Replacing butter with olive oil (Αντικαταστώντας βούτηρο με ελαιόλαδο)

I'm not against using butter in my cakes and pastries, but it's very expensive to buy good butter in Greece. Whether local (Cretan) sheep's milk butter, or Greek cow's butter (eg Olymbos), or imported butter (eg Lurpak), butter costs about 10 euro a kilo. Olive oil costs about half the price, which is why I use it in all my cooking.

Every single dish on this table was prepared with olive oil, including the dessert (halva).

 We produce enough olive oil for our own needs - but only every second year. Olive trees are alternate-bearing, which means they don't produce enough fruit one year, while the next year they are laden with fruit. Olive oil once commanded high prices but now the price has dropped to about 2 euro/kilo for the producer. When we don't make enough olive oil from our own trees, we buy it straight from another producer at 2.50 euro/kilo (bring-your-own containers). Buying olive oil from the press will cost about 3-3.50 euro/kilo (bring-your-own containers), which is still much cheaper than the cost of olive oil from the supermarket, where olive oil packaged in metal containers will cost you more than 5 euro/kilo when bulk-buying. The only place in Greece where prices lower than 4 euro a kilo for 'extra-virgin' olive oil have been seen were at LIDL supermarket. It sounded too good to be true; go figure. (The fraud, which made use of labels worded 'Crete' and 'extra virgin', didn't take long to be detected.)

Olive oil chocolate chip cookies using the well-known Nestle Toll House recipe

Greeks use on average 26 kilos/year of olive oil. In Crete, this figure is higher; in my family alone, we need 150 kilos of olive oil per year - divide that among five people, and that comes out to 30 kilos/person. When you ask yourself how on earth we can go through so much olive oil per person per year, when the average consumption for other countries is much much much lower, and the global average is just half a litre per person per year, just think about how and where we use olive oil. Everything you make using butter can be made with olive oil.

• stews, soups and roasts
• cakes and biscuits
• pastry and pie making
• dipping our bread and feta cheese (twice a day, every day, all year round)
• salads (both hot and cold)
• frying (everything)
• greasing all cooking vessels

Still not convinced that all these activities warrant the use of so much olive oil? Well, if you aren't eating any ready-prepared food apart from bakery bread, then you have to roast/stew/fry everything yourself. The need for so much oil comes form the amount of cooking we do at home - we eat very little ready-prepared food. You need some kind of fat to make your food tasty. If olive oil is all you use (no butter, no mayo, no prepared dressing), then you will use a lot of olive oil! If I continued the practice of lighting the kandili, I would be using much more!

Olive oil cupcake icing, using non-artificial flavours and colours

Over the years, I've gotten quite good at making desserts using olive oil, especially using non-Greek recipes that usually call for butter. One of my most popular recipes is for olive oil cake/biscuit icing.

 Choux pastry balls with olive oil instead of butter
 

Wherever butter is stated in a recipe, I use the same amount in olive oil instead. The taste difference is minimal when you use a high quality product, and in my household's case, we only use organic extra-virgin olive oil. The only real difference in their use is that one is a solid while the other one is a liquid. Because of the different texture, you may sometimes need to experiment when using.

©All Rights Reserved/Organically cooked. No part of this blog may be reproduced and/or copied by any means without prior consent from Maria Verivaki. 

Skoufos and Oinos: The Beret and Wine (Σκούφος και Οίνος)

I was recently persuaded by a student to take up an offer on Groupon: 35 euro for 5 shampoo/formula/styling sessions (original cost 145 euro). It sounded like a good bargain, and I can say it met my expectations. I was disappointed only when it finished (I was then charged 17 euro for the same session, minus the formula). In any case, I received many more offers through the mail for all sorts of other Groupon offers, including holidays to Greek islands, sunglasses, swimwear, automobile spare parts, feng shui fountains, Chardonnay 6-packs, among others, such as which make up the consumer culture that the whole world is being forced to live by the few handfuls that create global trends and direct world markets.

 

Skoufos kai Oinos prides itself on its authentic French bistro atmosphere.

Among those offers, I received one for a discounted fine dining experience: a meal for two at a restaurant by the Venetian port of Hania, at Skoufos kai Oinos. Dining a la carte, at a restaurant where equal emphasis is placed on all aspects of the dining experience, where the food is just as important as the decor and service is quite different from my regular dining experiences in Hania. Even in our London and Paris travels as a family, the places we chose to eat out at never fitted within this general frame. The last time I ate out in this way was probably over two decades ago, in another continent. I decided to take up this offer to treat my children to a novel experience. Here's how the evening turned out for us.

*** *** ***

We arrived at Skoufos kai Oinos at our booking time of 7.30pm, which is actually quite early for dining out in Hania. That explains why we were the ony customers for a while. The place got busy just as we were getting ready to leave, and even then, darkness had not enveloped the sky!

The restaurant is located in the yard of a private house. Limited outside seating poses problems in the summer (in Crete, we simply don't eat indoors then). As the restaurant is located on the road running parallel to the Venetian port of Hania, there's no view of the sea. Despite this, it was very heartening to see both tourists and locals coming and going, just as we were leaving. Even though the area is considered touristy due to the immensely significant architectural sights (the Venetian-built shipyards are located here, the backs of which you can see in the photo), the area has been left to the elements, probably because it's found on the eastern side of the harbour, an area that has always been associated with the lower socio-economic strata of Hania (the western side of the port is more developed).

 
A waiter welcomed and guided us to the table of our choice, which was laid with a simple fabric placemat. The discount offer had a set menu for two: prawns, salad, salmon and stuffed tenderloin. We were dining a la tre, so we all got menu cards to 'help' our 'extra' diner choose his meal. This was when the first 'shock' was felt. 

 The table setting can be easily replicated by any taverna; it really is time to get rid of the plastic-lined paper tablecloth! The menu card was also available in English (and most likely other languages, since tourists also use the restaurant).

"There's nothing in this menu that I like, Mum," my son said. I've always given the children a menu card to pore over wherever we go. Greek taverna menus contain standard fare, arranged in a standard way; this restaurant menu did not resemble them in any way at all!


"But if I order the chicken, I also have to have salad!" he moaned. It took a little time for my son to be convinced that he didn't actually need to eat the salad (mainly because there were two other vegetarian-friendly diners at the table). The special offer did not include drinks, so I decided to add a bottle of San Pellegrino* to the experience.

When the level of service is this high for a bottle of mineral water, it really does endless good in setting the mood.

The salad came first, accompanied by some very French-looking bread and highly scented olive oil (full of aromatic fresh minced peppers). This was immediately followed by the prawns. We really didn't take very long to devour them all.

The salad was dressed in a light vinaigrette, which gave it a moreish taste and eradicated the desire to mop up the excess dressing as we usually do with Greek salads. As for the prawns, I really need to find a recipe that replicates this dish as closely as possible; the mastic flavour of the sauce was very subtle. It masked the fishy scent and lent the meaty prawns a sweet flavour. Note the small servings - this meal was created to savour the tastes, not to fill the gut.  

I'm pretty sure I know the baker, whose baguette shaping skills single him out in Hania (see above photo). The olive-oil-and-bread proved an immense hit among my kids, the only truly recognisable Cretan part of the meal. As you can see, my daughter is a very good eater. Among the appetisers, my son found the bacon bits in the salad 'yummy', especially in combination with the olive oil and bread, and the water ("plain, no bubbles, please") 'exquisite'.

The mains were beautifully presented: chicken fillet with fresh salad, lightly grilled salmon with basmati risotto and the most popular dish (by unanimous vote after we all tried each others' dishes), tenderloin stuffed with mozzarella and basil served on a bed of sauteed julienned vegetables. which was also the most intricate: the salmon and chicken were just that, but that pork had been changed beyond the initial meat cut.  The waiter had previously explained the changes that had been made to the menu due to seasonal variations, and he also asked me how I'd like the salmon cooked. Greeks generally like their meat/fish well-cooked, something which goes against fine dining trends by Western standards; for the question to be posed to the diner shows that there have been problems with past diners who thought the fish was cooked too rare for them. This should be interpreted as a cultural culinary preference, not a sign of ignorance.

The 'wandering fork' syndrome is de rigueur in Crete. It also gave my fussiest eater a chance to try new food. After this experience, he can safely say that he really does not like fish.

Normally, we don't order dessert (and it wasn't included in the special offer, either), but the meal was quite special today, so we decided to go for the full Monty: strawberry cheesecake and fruit tart.

Initially, two servings of cheesecake were brought to the table, even though we ordered two different desserts. In a formal setting such as this one, it's important to remember the customer's right to point out a mistake on the part of the waiting staff (or simply to complain).

All in all, the meal lived up to our expectations, and it provided that breath of fresh air needed to lift our spirits** in a country run by lame politicians, thwarted by global politics, and stigmatised by self-interests. Price of the meal (with a discount coupon) at Skoufos kai Oinos: 46.50 euro.

*** *** ***

My reservations on the food side of the meal mainly involve food safety and imported produce. Salmon is an imported product, used in a similar way to locally fished swordfish. It probably wasn't necessary to have a juicy fat blackberry (most likely from Mexico) in the tart when we are now in the midst of the local stone fruit season. The huge raw mushrooms (probably from Poland) in the salad reminded me of the recent E.coli outbreak. One possible reason why we don't suffer from food recalls or tainted food products in Greece is probably because in Greek cuisine, food is cooked really well, which is what you would be led to understand by the waiter's comment concerning the salmon. This is something that Western culture doesn't do so much with vegetables - it's looked down on to boil vegetables because they 'lose their nutrients' - and the same goes for meat: a Cretan cook would never serve his/her guests undercooked meat. If it's not falling off the bone, then it's deemed undercooked. It's simply not part of our culinary culture and it isn't a sound principle in a world where processed industrialised food creates new food safety risks. Coincidentally, my daughter tried one of the mushrooms but she didnt like it: 'it tastes a little like plastic, Mum'. Had it been cooked along with the bacon in the salad, I am sure she would have liked it.

The menu had been changed slightly from the previous season's, and the menu card showed a fixed printed menu which means that it can't vary unless an extra printed menu is presented to reflect the changes. This will probably raise costs and effort on the owners' part; the restaurant was quite small but it was also busy looking (nice to see of course - they must have done their fair share of advertising and marketing). Costs are going to factor markedly in the coming year, when restaurants (from September 2011) will be required to add 23% VAT to meals (at the moment, it's 13%). This will inevitably sound the death knell for restaurants - either that, or Greeks will simply learn to be obedient and diligent Europeans who don't go out often for a meal and like to cook cheap processed food bought from LIDL, like the hard-working German, the trade-oriented Dutchman or the stiff-upper-lip Englishman (something we know full well will never happen; the Greek state may have gone down the toilet, but the Greek identity has no intention of going down with it).

What makes Skoufos and Oinos special is that it is different among the Cretan food scene, and it does answer to the needs of a group of more discerning diners. These people are mainly the younger generation (apparently, females find it more alluring than males, according to the facebook page created for the restaurant), people who want more than just an old-fashioned steak and fries, the kind usually served up at tavernas with very little difference among eateries. The servings were relatively moderate compared to the servings at a traditional taverna - but the complete meal was very filling, and it contained a good variety of items. If the servings were larger, it would have been difficult to finish, plus, there is no reason why the plates must be full to the brim anyway. Who does this appeal to again? Young people of course, the future of Greece, because they are tired of being served the same old meals, through the same old regime and the same old politicians. Their menu choices reflect their desire for a radical change to the whole system.

*Wine would have been much more appropriate, but I thought about the implications: first to my wallet, and then to my driving abilities.  
** Some people believe that children don't understand the full implications of the economic crisis. My kids knew about the discout coupon, and they know why we can't have experiences like this one again too soon.

©All Rights Reserved/Organically cooked. No part of this blog may be reproduced and/or copied by any means without prior consent from Maria Verivaki.