All at Sea

"Where have you been for lunch today?" asked an interested Salvotore." Trattoria Maria" I reply enthusiastically. " What did you think of the food?" he enquires."Very good, I think I may go back there tonight. They have a special chicken dish on the menu and it may be good to divert from fish for one night" I tell him. " Yes, Trattoria Maria, the food is ok but a little expensive. Tonight you must go to a place owned by a fisherman and you pay 25 euros for food and wine. One price but they only serve fish and lots of it," he explained.
While i didn't agree with his further assessment of Trattoria Maria ( that lunch I had eaten an excellent, if a little peculiar risotto with provolo cheese, green peppercorns and pear, yes, that is pear. For dessert an almond packed semifreddo with a ribbon of chocolate sauce and a very smooth digestif made with bayleaves)this man had given me several good recommendations for restaurants and so that evening four of us went in search of Al Timone near Porto Empendolce.
Finding Al Timone proved an adventure in itself. " Is this a one way street," I ask the others. " No, but you could try driving on the correct side of the road," came their reply. The car heading straight for me should have been enough evidence and the fact that 5 minutes later I did the same thing, in the exact same spot was either sloppy judgement or comic timing.
A few minutes later, driving downhill, we spot a boat that seemed to be suspended in mid air, surrounded by a bamboo type fencing.This was Al Timone.
Inside, the rhythm was quite pulsating, driven by the energy of the bearded owner, who delivered plates at breakneck speed in a homely,unfussy manner. " Please wait 20 minutes and then you can have a table,", as he directed us up to the waiting area upstairs. I say waiting area, for, after negotiating the narrow, winding steep staircase and through the captains cabin, you arrive to the deck of the boat and wonder if the floor will support your weight.Slanted and unstable, it was a most peculiar but fun place to be contemplating an aperitif. I headed back down and requested some wine and a few hasty minutes later was heading up with a small carafe and 4 glasses. The wine tasted as unstable as the top deck and as Cathy commented, looked and tasted like weak sherry. What have we got ourselves into here, I remember thinking.
To say that the host was a touch unruly, would be a little unfair and as he showed us to our table, I could observe him at closer quarters. He slammed down a huge carafe of that wine, threw down a basket of bread and then ceremoniously landed a whole boiled octopus and left us staring at this bizarre spectacle. Plump mussels with chilli and tomato followed and crispy minced fish fritters.The jelly like exterior of the purple skinned octopus revealed delicious tender meat which melted in the mouth. The ladies implored us not to attack its brain but David and I were soon tucking into this, slicing deftly with a knife and grinning as we squeezed the flesh with lemon juice. This was a challenge of the mind and overcoming our own food insecurities and squeamishness and it felt good.
The tables were turning quickly, people waited outside, sitting at a makeshift table on the side of the street. Next came pasta with tomato and chopped sardines, a mound of spaghetti topped with a rich sauce and screaming of home cooking.He kindly arranged for Spaghetti with basil, to allow Alison to eat something. I'm not sure he was that impressed, after all this place is not supposed to do requests but this was soon forgotten after he'd seen us demolish the octopus. Acceptance is a beautiful thing. Platters of charred whole fish followed, perfectly cooked, moist flesh and crispy skin. He sang out in delight at the qualities of Spigola, the local bass which he raved about all night. Fried calamari and heavily, salted, crusted prawns completed the feast. Gosh these people know how to eat and all this for 25 euros, meant it was a bargain.The food here was the nearest thing I came to experiencing real home cooking and I'm thankful for that.If you want refinement, this is not for you but if an experience full of character is what you crave, then Al Timone delivers on all fronts. Just mind your head when climbing the stairs!

Trattoria Maria

It was quickly becoming clear that if you were not a lover of anything edible from the ocean, then this coastal area of Sicily would be hugely challenging. So, as I continued to plough headlong into another feast of fish, my wife resigned herself for another long lunch watching me deliver plate after plate of food to my expectant stomach." How do you manage to eat all that food at lunch?" would be a typical question she would pose. For me it is easily justified, for one has to be prepared to find room for one's curiosity. Without curiosity, I would be lead into a world of mediocrity and to the nearest McDonald's, of which, there are, alarmingly, a growing number on Sicilian shores.
Trattoria Maria is a little gem of a restaurant, discreetly found on the descent into Porto Empedolce and hosted by a bustling lady, full of passionate enthusiasm that bubbles like Mount Etna. I watch as plates of pasta, risotto, grilled fish and highly scented melon appear from the kitchen, delivered to tables dominated by the male species. Alison chooses a solitary plate of spaghetti con pomodoro, while I plump for taglioni con calamari e basilico and grigliata die pesce locale. The perfumed, highly scented pounded basil blends with a good glug of olive oil, which clings to the firm pasta and strips of meltingly soft, that has few ingredients but maximum impact. Alison's spaghetti bursts with sweet tomato flavour and assisted by a sprinkling of local pecorino cheese. The fish,purchased from local boats that morning, is unrecognisable to me. Three highly charred fish, cooked on the bone and rubbed inside with rosemary were delivered accompanied by only lemon wedges and a simple chopped lettuce. She reels off the names in Italian, then scribbles them in my notebook and then disappears. She returns minutes later to present a wide selection of gleaming fish and scribbles the name of all them in my book also. Her young son interrupts briefly, informing his mother that she has missed one out." The best fish, is a small cod that is caught locally" she tells me. " We have none to day but you must try it if the opportunity presents itself" she insists. At least, that's what I think she said.
You see melons everywhere here and I follow the lead of the table next to us and order a portion for us to share. The last of the yellow skinned variety had been served, so we had to settle for the orange fleshed cantaloupe, which she presented whole for me to smell and approve before cutting. Juicy, sweet and perfumed, it was a mouth quenching way to finish.
A decent shot of espresso for me and a decaff for Alison and two hours had floated by,as we took our leave and promised to return another day.

Slow Burner in Sicily

"I'm sorry the restaurant is closed", says the bar lady. A gruff, stern looking chef appears through a door dragging on a cigarette.
No problem I think, this is Sicily, surely we can have a few ravishing bar snacks? Can you imagine the shock on my face when a bowl of pale ready salted crisps and peanuts landed pathetically on the bar. I turned to Jono, who looked deflated and a little embarrassed. We drank Dutch beer all night, while teased by the lingering scent of grilled fish and seafood influenced pasta sauces. It was an inglorious start after my initial adrenalin rush of excitement.
A bounty of food was what I was promised, dawn to dusk and beyond I was informed and this was as certain as a native driver hugging your bumper on the SS640 to Agrigento. I'd come to Sicily to celebrate the wedding of Jonathan and Maria, the former a devoted Italian food lover and guaranteed to plunder the streets for the best in Sicilian cuisine.


Mercifully, over the coming week, glimpses of traditional cuisine were laid before me. The very next day six of us had a decent meal meal in La Pescatore, a busy but laid back restaurant in the touristy town of San Leone. ( complete with fun fair and a host of energetic jewellery sellers)
Lobster with spaghetti, linguine with seafood, tiny grilled red mullet and most interestingly the well known dish of caponata. This version included olives, seafood and a good sprinkling of almonds and pistachio nuts, that was like no other caponata I'd seen. During my stay I discovered that no one caponata forms the definitive ensemble and that local cooks all over Sicily stamp their own identity of this antipasti classic. Aubergines are a must though, as is the sweet and sour balance of adding wine vinegar and sugar. Celery, capers, anchovies, parsley, red peppers, tomatoes and onions may all find a place but the soft, almost collapsed chunks of eggplant are an everpresent comforting joy. The crisps were quickly crushed to a dust, hoovered up and consigned to the bin. Things were on the up.

Lost Spider of the Ocean

It is, to many of us a well known fact that much of our oceans have been overfished, although really, it is a small minority of species that have borne the brunt of our human need for eating fish. This begs the question, why do we not eat a greater variety of fish in our country? Is it because we lack the confidence, knowledge or passion to experiement or is it simply, ignorance? The spider crab is an excellent example of our attitude to the fish that we eat, thus it can be almost impossible to find on a fishmongers slab. However, just the other day, while shopping at Esher farmers market, I was delighted to find a fisherman who was brave enough to bring some to market. He had travelled all the way from South Devon, laden with lemon soles, bass, mackerel, lobsters and the reddish, orange to brown crustaceans long neglected by British fisherman. Their value is limited in the British Isles, so much of it is sent to the more apprecitive French and Spanish, who respect its deep, sweet tasting flesh.
Prizing the meat from its thin legs is a a painstaking process but with patience you can extract enough to feed two people. The shells should not be discarded, as they will create a delicious rich stock for making risotto, creating pasta dishes or as a base for fish soup.
That evening I created a simple salad with salty samphire,a few capers, sprigs of chopped fennel and a light lemon, anchovy and olive oil dressing. Served with a generous twist of black pepper, this was seasonal cooking at its best and at £3.00 for the crab, surely we should overcome our fear of the unknown and take a punt on the lost spider of the ocean.

A Family Affair

Taverna Odisseas

Aghia Jerusalem

Lunch: 18th June 2009

"For me the type of fish isn't important, it is the freshness that matters. It is all about choosing the best cooking method to achieve the best results", explains an impassioned Odisseas.
Such a philosophy on food is heartening and at this idyllic taverna in Aghia Jerusalem it forms the foundation on a daily basis. When I arrived at 10.30am, it was only his mother whom I found, already well advanced in preparing the days specials. The yeasty aroma of dough, mixed with wild sage, lavender and wafts of meatiness from the oven at the rear, sent my stomach into spasms of anticipation. Long loaves of bread incorporated with deep purple olives, tomato and the ubiquitous feta cheese lay ready on a solid tray heavily dusted with flour. She ushered me into the kitchen, opening the oven to reveal an oregano crusted whole belly pork, its fatty interior oozing out, mixing with olive oil, salt, pepper and mustard that soaked into wedges of potato. Stuffed peppers with tomato bake in another tray, while shredded courgettes blend with creamy sheep's cheese to form a rustic tart.
With lunch served from 11.30am, I sought refuge under an old fig tree that provides the only shade on the pebble beach opposite. The beautiful clear waters of the Ionian sea lapped to the shore, as fishing boats swayed in the ocean. The constant chorus of cicadas interspersed with the occasional shrill of a gull and a bark from a dog provided natures musical symphony.
The small, rustic taverna was a twenty minute drive from the yacht obsessed harbour of Fiscardo. Winding down steep roads to the bay of Aghia Jerusalem, through a largely unspoilt landscape. The basic seating area is concealed by a canopy of grape vines, where we found the owners sister enjoying a strong espresso. Her brother (the boss) appeared carrying a plastic tub with deep red, gleaming scorpion fish, their prominent mouth, highlighting this rock loving creature. " if you had time, I would love to prepare a soup for you," explains Odisseas, " although, I also recommend it grilled and sprinkled with olive oil, lemon and pepper." Fish is expensive on the island of Keffalonia, which I found slightly surprising, although it is in part due to overfishing and this variety alone would cost a hefty 55 euros a kilo. I settled for a fish weighing 500g, as a compromise to my aching wallet.
The owners enthusiasm for simple, rustic cooking was influenced by his father and he extolled the virtues by highlighting the knowledge he has happily taken on.
As the food arrived, a gentle breeze brushing our skin, it feels like we have been invited to someones home. A slab of creamy feta cheese arrives balanced on top of chunks of tomato, sliced green peppers, cucumber and delicious piquant pickled caper leaves. The soft, moist interior of the bread is stunningly balanced by a thick, crunchy crust, salty feta blending seamlessly with juicy olives, tomatoes and back notes of coarse black pepper. The belly pork, was meltingly tender, packed with flavour and served lukewarm, as is the custom with much of Greek food. The lightly charcoal tinged Scorpion fish arrived dressed with slices of lemon and stuffed with onion and parsley. A meaty texture, defied a rather bland flesh, that was crying out for the addition of the accompanying olive oil, lemon and black pepper dressing. Two and half hours later, we are eating candied orange peel, delighted to have found this hidden gem.

Secret Garden

Secret Garden

15/06/09

Lunch at Polyphemus

As we were taking our final instructions before departing from the yacht obsessed harbour of Fiscardo, I turned to the dark, leather skinned owner and asked, “ where is your favourite restaurant on Kefallonia” With the time it takes to knock back a shot of ouzo, his reply brings not an answer, rather a swaggering endorsement of a healthy home-grown food culture, “ my wife is an excellent cook” came his effortless reply.
Ithaki, believed to be the mythical home of Homer’s Odysseus, is a tranquil, diminutive island, just a short hop from Fiscardo, across the crystal clear Ionian Sea and was to provide a memorable lunch destination. Stepping from our modest hire boat and undeterred but inspired by the earlier comment, we set off up the energy sapping winding road for the twenty minute hike to the village of Stavros. (Some kind locals offered us a lift after 10 minutes, allowing us respite from the searing midday heat)
Polyphemus is a traditional taverna, beautifully overseen by a wonderful Swiss lady, who brims with enthusiasm for the cooking that is prepared there. Every table received her full tireless repertoire of menu descriptions that left you in a gastronomic spin, making the choice a difficult one.
The setting is charming and cool, shaded by olive trees with strings of bulging, juicy garlic draped from their branches and random lanterns hanging for added ambience at night.
A chilled crisp, fruity local rose wine, drawn directly from the barrel, was refreshingly good and served in a ½ litre red metal jug. Crisp, lightly fried courgette croquettes ( kolokythokeftédes) encase shredded zucchini, garlic and hints of lemon. Golden, crunchy pitta bread, scattered with shavings of local salty sheep’s cheese was readily smothered with a creamy split pea dip (fava) containing diced red onion and pools of fruity extra virgin olive oil. Having delighted in skordalia the previous evening to accompany fried rockfish, my curiosity led me to order sun-dried octopus and savóro but not before our impassioned host had deepened my knowledge of skordalia. The smooth potato puree, infused with extra virgin olive oil and a powerful hit of raw garlic was, she said, usually served cold but in her opinion it is enhanced if served warm.
The intense flavour of the octopus was none the worse for being a little chewy and a brief charring on the grill developed a smoky taste. Soaking bread in the vinegary, oil and oregano marinade was a pure delight and a shot of chilled ouzo comes highly recommended. The old traditional dish of savóro involves first frying a whole sea bream, then marinating in vinegar, garlic, wild dried rosemary and plump currants. Usually left overnight, it is then gently reheated to release all the flavours. The gentle sweet and sour balance mellows in the mouth, just allowing the flavour of the fish to come through.
With the heat residing slightly, we ambled back down the hill, accompanied by the sensuous scent of wild sage, our stomachs and soul replenished by a delicious meal. Home cooking may be at the heart of Greek Island cuisine but this was an impressive substitute.

Asparagus and Lamb

Asparagus and lamb are the real leaders as the avalanche of new season produce begins to to explode through the late spring. The challenging winter months are now a distant cold memory, a bounty of seasonal produce to excite cooks and lovers of great British produce is gaining momentum. I had my first strawberries of the year last weekend and while not yet at there best ( my nan always maintained that strawberries might only be enjoyed from the last week of the Wimbledon Tennis Championship) the juicy, pale red fruits are a welcome addition after months of eating apples, pears, quinces and anything that I managed to preserve to sustain through the short days of winter. New season lamb is now moving towards its best, the price is a little high at the moment but will decrease in the coming weeks as more well finished lambs come to market. Much of the very early lamb has invariably been pushed too quickly, not allowed to finish naturally, as everyone rushes headlong into the spring lamb scrum. Patience will reward you in both pocket and quality. Asparagus has been a feature of all my cooking since early May and this year I've been particularly enjoying it served at room temperture with a good drizzle of extra virgin olive oil, coarsley grated chalky Wensleydale cheese, sea salt and a few twists of black pepper. I will continue to feast on these fine green spears until the 21st June, when the longest day traditionally brings a close to the eating of this British gem.