White on White

Domaine Papagiannakos on Display

Greek wine has come a long way since those ignoble days when retsina, the pine-tinged beverage that reminds me of a freshly cleaned boy's toilet, defined the country's wine industry. During the past ten years, Greece's exciting work with a myriad of endemic varieties have left a conspicuous mark on global wine lovers' palates; demand for these wines is rapidly increasing and, unfortunately, prices are soon to follow with Paris Sigalas' earth-shattering whites, for instance, already asking fans to cough up an additional ten Euros per bottle. On average.

Besides Xinomavro, a red I would love Axe to bottle up as deodorant, two of my favourite Greek varieties are whites. Santorini's flagship Assyrtiko, of course, which breathes in the island's volcanic rock and brackish breeze and creates a wine that makes you lick your lips and pucker up. The second one is Malagousia, a dwindling variety that was rediscovered by Vangelis Gerovassiliou, and reminds me of the peaches, mango and cream body lotion The Wife, Ph.D., rubs on her tummy whenever she's trying to seduce me.

Vassilis Papagiannakos at A.G. Leventis

Besides these, however, I've recently re-discovered two other Greek whites that have further accentuated the country's unbridled potential as a world-class wine producer: Savatiano and Moschofilero.

During recent industry events in Nicosia, I had the privilege of tasting two of these varieties' incarnations and, while they do not belt out Marvin Gaye's Let's Get It On in the same way Assyrtiko and Malagousia do, they've done enough to tickle my fancy.

Savatiano was originally known as the main grape behind retsina, a status that unfortunately blemished its reputation as a variety capable of delivering bigger and better wines. However, thanks to the work of Domaine Papagiannakos just a stone's throw away from Athens' airport, Savatiano has gathered steam during the past two decades and started showing plenty of potential as a grape capable of shining on its lonesome. As mentioned in a 2014 article by Tara Q. Thomas in Wine & Spirits magazine, Vassilis Papagiannakos' "young savatianos have caused waves all over Greece for their fruitiness and clarity—characteristics not often associated with the variety." In an event hosted by importer Vassos Eliades Ltd., at the A.G. Leventis Gallery, Vassilis mentioned that this variety is his pride and joy, one that has been worked on for decades and has firmly put his winery on Greece's wine map. His 2015 rendition delivered as evinced by my review below.

2015 Boutari Oropedio Moschofilero

As for Moschofilero, I have always loved the versions put out by both Skouras and Tselepos. It came as a pleasant surprise, however, to enjoy Boutari Winery's latest experiment with the variety—the barrel-aged Oropedio from Mantineia—during a soiree organised at Caraffa Bastione by its importer Photos Photiades Group. I've always associated Moschofilero—with its pinkish hue, citrus undertones and oh-so-sweet spice—to a more subtle understudy to Gewürztraminer, and Boutari's latest experiment didn't change my mind. And before you get all uppity about my description for this variety, please take it as a compliment: Gewürztraminers are sometimes like a once pretty woman who's iced her face with one dollop too many of turquoise-toned makeup.

2015 Papagiannakos Savatiano - Vibrant aroma of orange peel, stone fruit, apples, white flowers and sweet spice. On the palate, there's plenty of apple, melon, some honeysuckle and beeswax, and (maybe, just maybe) a piney element, which could be my brain telling me we're edging closer and closer to retsina. Full-ish to the mouth with good length, quite waxy and a bitter finish, which can be confounding. 86/100.

2015 Boutari Oropedio Moschofilero - Somewhat tropical on the nose, reminiscent of pineapple doused in sweet spices and a touch of white flowers. The palate is dominated by notes of baked apples with cinnamon, some pear and a delicious citrus finish. Medium bodied, quite fruit forward yet short, and overall well received thanks to its loukoumi-like qualities. 87/100. 

Five Ages of Halloumi

Kitchen & Bar

After spending a few days last year binge watching Chef's Table on Netflix, I thought it'd be a great idea to open a high-end restaurant on The Rock that would allow me to channel my inner Bottura and wow affluent Russians with my inventive use of Cypriot ingredients. Five ages of halloumi anyone? That fantasy, however, ended up being rather ephemeral; I eventually woke up from my delusional slumber and recalled the shallow depths of both my wallet and culinary technique. Plus, I'm still not sure Cyprus is ready for thirty miniature courses chockfull of microgreens, fermented roots, trahana broth, spherified brandy sours, sous vide afelia and deconstructed pastitsio. Yeah, that last one sounds gross.

What has been great during the past few years is the upsurge in the number of taverns that have made it a point to serve creative Cypriot cuisine. Working within The Rock's preferred meze model, chefs at various eateries (Peiragmena in Lympia, for instance) have begun experimenting with local and seasonal ingredients, slapping bright tattoos, patches of facial hair and a black leather jacket on tradition.

Ribs & Commandaria

Last weekend, we headed to To Patrikon, a newish establishment in Tersefanou (near Larnaca airport) that markets itself as a modern and creative Cypriot tavern. Housed in an old house on the village's main road, the tavern is  sparsely decorated, sits about forty patrons and opens only on weekends. As soon as we sat, the manager/owner stopped by to make sure we understood this wasn't your typical Cypriot village tavern and let us know that everything was homemade except for the pastourmas. We nodded and food then arrived in waves with each dish being carefully described by our waiter.

Overall, the food was excellent and the level of inventiveness quite high. There was a fava bean puree topped with black olive powder, spring onions and a red pepper sauce, which was creamy and balanced. Fresh, warm halloumi—not grilled for once—was topped with a fig puree and fresh mint if I recall correctly. A wild mallow shakshouka with red peppercorns and runny egg yolks was a welcome and utterly comforting variation on the usual (and monotonous) scrambled eggs dish served at most taverns. Besides the standard Greek salad, our waiter also brought us a refreshing salad with wild bladder campion, broad beans, mustard greens and black sesame seeds. Finally, for dessert, a touch of playfulness with a deconstructed pumpkin turnover (kolokoti) served as a bed of sweet bulgur wheat with raisins topped by a fluffy, not-too-cloying pumpkin mousse and crumbled vanilla cookies.

Cauliflower & Tahini

As for the meats, there were thin slivers of wine-soaked bacon; spareribs slow cooked in Commandaria wine, which fell off the bone and were deliciously sweet; citrus marinated chicken legs and thighs grilled over charcoal like the good ol' souvla we all love and adore matched with roasted potatoes, taro root and beets, and; beef livers topped with wild greens. Thanks to The Wife Ph.D's penchant for vegetarianism, I was perfectly satisfied by the butcher's selection, but I can envision a traditional Cypriot caveman asking mommy to grill him a pork chop upon his return.

Deconstructed Kolokoti

However, three dishes shone above all others. The roasted cauliflower with chopped onions and tossed in a tahini and parsley dressing worked wonderfully well, with the usually bland vegetable a deserving conduit for the savoury, thick and nutty dressing. The trahana fritters elevated the fermented grain-and-dairy mix that's typically eaten as a soup and remains to this day an acquired taste. To Patrikon's interpretation of this Cypriot delicacy was crunchy on the outside, gooey in the inside and ate like a tangier Italian arancini. Finally, the bread was—hands down—the best I have ever had on the island. Piping hot, it had a hard crust covered in sesame and poppy seeds but a soft and cloud-like interior, almost melted-cheese-like in texture. Honestly, management should hire one of those roadside girls that dazzle men with iced coffee, have her sell them buns by the dozen and laugh all the way to the bank.

Chicken & Roots

If I had one complaint, albeit minor, it's that the wines on offer were overpriced with selections from both Vlassides and Argyrides running a good 5 to 10 Euros above standard restaurant prices. I do believe it's best industry practice for restaurants to charge two-and-a-half times the retail price and in this instance it was significantly more. Besides that surcharge, the wine menu was varied enough with a good selection of red and whites from Cypriot producers including Tsiakkas, Ktima Christoudia, Vouni Panagia, Vlassides and Argyrides, among others.

On the way out, I stopped to read a sign handwritten in chalk by the kitchen. It said in Cypriot: "Once you try this meze at To Patrikon, you'll remember it for the rest of your life." In this day and age, as Donald tries to tells us that McDonald's trumps Noma or Central or D.O.M. or Alinea, diversity, inventiveness and spontaneity become, to paraphrase James C. Scott, everyday forms of resistance. Yes, the meal was memorable but, better yet, that spirit to battle stagnation and the status quo shone through their food.

Whine On The Rocks' Rating: 4.5 out of 5 Sparkling Spatulas.

A Funky Comeback

Orange Explosion

Imagine you're really into porn. Food porn to be more exact. A vereatable pornucopia of food.

You're in Athens one random spring night and your friend tells you there's this playful joint in Keramikos, a rundown yet up-and-coming neighbourhood just a short drive away from the Parthenon, that gets kinky with Greek ingredients and molecular gastronomy. Despite the hefty price tag, it's not tough to convince you to suck it up and dig into the depths of your daughter's waning college fund. In any case, you believe education is best served out on the streets.

Piggy, Duck & Beef

You walk up a tight winding staircase in an old corner two story house and enter a chic and minimalist space devoid of anything that would dare draw attention away from the inventive cuisine and impeccable service. The famous Greek model sitting at a nearby table and the cute brunette waitress that glides past you—her arms crossed behind her back, her eyes warm, her smile courteous—distract you for a second until you're seated and the menus land. In black and white, the header reads Funky Gourmet. Nowhere does it say the lauded joint has two Michelin stars.

You select the second tasting menu (120 Euros per person) and a bottle of the 2007 1879 Boutari Legacy, a single vineyard Xinomavro from Naoussa that's decanted and then strips off notes upon notes of red berries, dried fruit, spice, savoury tomatoes, black olives, leather and smoke. You let out your first satisfied hmmmm of the night.

The first of fifteen dishes makes it to your side. Called "Salsify in the Soil," it's a creamy taramas with a few strips of a crispy fried root to use as utensils. It's superior taramas: rich and salty with a perfect hint of fishiness. Shit's about to hit the stratosphere, you think.

Cod & Dill Avgolemono

Then it's a  tartlet topped with Greek bottarga dressed with plenty of lemon zest and herbs and a thin sliver of white chocolate that acts as a sort of cheese; incredibly enough, once it hits your tongue, the ingredients turn into a glorious and balanced mix of sweet and savoury with the chocolate cutting through the fish roe's tangy traits. It makes little sense but somehow it works just like peanut butter and jelly.

A couple of Thessaloniki koulouria are placed before you alongside some Cretan buttermilk. They are the best you've ever had: soft, warm and salty like your lover's sunburnt skin after a mid-afternoon summer swim in the east Mediterranean.

Snails are then served over a grain (you're lost, you're dreaming, details no longer concern you) cooked with fresh herbs and topped with plenty of shaved black truffle. You dig in because you're eating earth at its apogee, a threesome with umami pulling the strings, calling the shots, taking command.

Bacon, Chocolate, Caramel

Cod fricassee with a creamy dill avgolemono hits your table. "This is just wrong, so wrong," you tell your friend. The hearty and buttery fish falls apart and goes for a dip in an unctuous broth of dill and lemon.  In your world, this level of refinement and subtle blending of flavours and textures is as elusive as a bottle of Domaine de la Romanée-Conti. This is fish soup taken to a whole other level.

Then the house specialty, a Greek salad sorbet. Impossible to have a bowl—it hits you like a mixed feeling—but as a palate cleanser it works wonders. You taste the cucumbers, the feta, the tomatoes, the onions, the olives as if they stood whole and slowly slivered down your throat in a single file.

The piggy, duck and beef is a seared piece of filet with foie gras, pancetta jam and bacon broth. It's less inventive yet hearty and comforting, and you wish you could bottle up the chunky pancetta jam, take it home and eat it with toast on a rainy day.

As cheese course, you are handed Roquefort coated in chocolate in the shape of a hazelnut served with a vanilla brioche bun and hazelnut dust. You carefully assemble the sandwich, take a bite and wish you had the largest mic ever known to man to drop and then walk out the door. You tell your friend the chefs—Georgianna Hiliadaki and Nick Roussos—should just close shop and open a simple bakery to sell brioches and koulouria to carb fiends like yourself. 

The Pomegranate

The dessert courses follow a similar pattern. The "Pomegranate of Abundance and Prosperity" is served in an emptied pomegranate and consists of caramelised ginger with cereal topped with a custard and bright red spheres made to resemble the fruit's seeds. You wouldn't mind this for breakfast on a weekend. Then as straight-forward a course as you'll get: a morsel of crispy bacon topped with milk chocolate beads, crunchy caramel and gold foil, once again a satisfying interplay between sweet and savoury. To wrap things up, an explosion: orange juice concealed in a round and golden chocolate shell and dramatically presented over foliage and dry ice to look like wild miniature oranges surrounded by mist. Once the dessert hits your tongue, it bursts open and releases the cleanest citrus liquid the Mediterranean could ever conjure. Call it a minty and fresh finish to what has undoubtedly been one of the greatest meals you've ever had.

You know your words and pictures don't do Funky Gourmet any justice but they spill out of you anyway; you're like a teenage boy who's just shared his first kiss with the curvy girl he'll one day meet at the altar.

Whine On The Rocks' Rating: A Lifetime Supply of Sparkling Spatulas.

Not So Innocent After All

Stools for the Hip!

Secret's out. At least to me who's always late or uninvited to the party.

Walk down Ledras Street at any time of the day and you'll probably find Il Forno and the sidewalks around the restaurant packed with people having pasta and pizza. I rarely go to Il Forno. Even though their pastas are great, privacy is not their forte; there's nowhere to hide from curious onlookers and the hustle and bustle of Nicosia's main pedestrian area. Enter Oinoscent Cava & Wine Bar, Nicosia's latest addition to its growing wine bar scene and home to a solid selection of French and Italian wines.

Oinoscent, latest project of the owner of the now defunct "The French Depot" on Kennedy Avenue, is a stylish, dimly-lit wine bar located diagonally across from Il Fourno and housed in an old shop right on Ledras Street. High tables and a long bar with stools are available for the hip or people with Napoleon complexes, lower tables for those with bad backs and a severe fear of heights. A large dark metallic wine rack sits behind the bar and mirrors cover the opposite wall, opening the space up. The locale's magnificent old tiled floors add a touch of rusticity to what is a chic yet casual establishment. Several cheese, charcuterie and fruit platters are on offer, now standard (and somewhat blah) fare at wine bars across the island.

Wine Anyone?

Here's the kicker, though. As we sat there with Mike Demo, The Wife, Ph.D., and Queen Insurance, patrons around us dug into large salads, bowls of creamy pasta and trays of pepperoni pizza. I flipped through the menu a few times in search of these elusive cooked dishes. Nothing. We then asked the waitress and she told us we could order anything off of Il Forno's menu, which is readily available if you are in on the secret. Here's my question to you—would you rather bump shoulders with other customers on a busy pedestrian thoroughfare or enjoy the same food indoors in a classy, low-key and more private environment? Whatever your choice, this sort of collaboration is a winner for both establishments; Il Forno gets a place where to send their overflow clientele, while Oinoscent builds a customer base and introduces more people to its fine wines.

2009 Asili Barbaresco

Best of all for wine lovers like me, this "partnership" allows you to match your food of choice with a great bottle of wine from the bar's solid selection. From perusing the wine list, it's obvious Oinoscent's strengths are the Old World. New World wines are available but I believe they take second place to their French (Bordeaux) and Italian (Piedmont) wines. Prices range from 20 Euros to the hundreds per bottle so there are plenty of options for all types of pockets. That evening, we sampled the 2012 Luigi Giordano Langhe Nebbiolo, a bright yet tannic red with concentrated dark cherry flavours, and the 2009 Luigi Giordano Asili Barbaresco, a more complex wine marked by notes of forrest berries, spice and cocoa.

Whine On The Rocks' Rating: 4 out of 5 Sparkling Spatulas

Michelin Man

This review is long overdue. Periklis Roussounides, alongside Martino Speciale of No Reservations, are the best chefs in Nicosia and arguably all of Cyprus. What I most admire of their cooking is their restraint; less is more in both of their carefully thought-out repertoires. Subtlety and refinement with dashes of creativity take centre stage on each one of their plates. Many chefs sometimes try too hard to impress, muddling up flavours and techniques to create disjointed and messy offerings. This is never the case with Roussounides or Speciale. Periklis, of course, is The Rock's only Michelin Man, having received a single star decades ago for his restaurant XO, which (unfortunately) had to give it back upon closing. Let's just assume the island wasn't ready for that type of experience...

Last time we sampled Roussounides' food, Little Miss Despot was doused in olive oil and clad in white like a porcelain doll from seventy years ago. She had just received the Holy Spirit and decided to treat forty-plus guests to dinner at Dia Xeiros, his latest culinary lab. That was almost a year-and-a-half ago and I often felt guilty for not having returned. So a few weeks ago we rectified our oversight and headed there for dinner with The Wife, Ph.D., My Zolpidem Supplier and Cousin #4.

The corner restaurant itself is quite understated with simple chairs and tables in white and natural wood. Beautiful woven pillows made by acclaimed Cypriot designer Joanna Louca add pops of color to an L-shaped bench that anchors the back of the room. A small white bar sits across the longer side of the bench and an ample patio that serves as outdoor seating area surrounds most of the restaurant.

The menu consists of avant-garde interpretations of Greek and Cypriot dishes, all superbly prepared and presented. For Little Miss Despot's baptism, for instance, the appetisers included a creamy orzo risotto with wild mushrooms and truffle foam, chicken livers tossed in Commandaria, fresh mint and pomegranate, and Cretan dakos stuffed with feta and sitting on a rich tomato sauce. On our latest visit, we started off with a crisp and well-balanced romaine lettuce salad with dried figs, anari cheese (the local ricotta), roasted hazelnuts and a semi-sweet vinaigrette. As a main, I had a lamb shank with pickled onions, velvety mashed potatoes and a sweet reduction; the meat, which had already been removed from the bone, fell apart and matched nicely with the creaminess, bite and sweetness supplied in loads by its accoutrements. The Wife, Ph.D., and My Zolpidem Supplier had one of my favourite dishes: pork cheeks with a honey mustard glaze, turnip and sweet potato purees, and fried potatoes, a combination of textures, techniques and flavors that sings. One small issue I did find with the food was it could have been served a bit warmer.

Alas, I do have one major complaint. For a restaurant of this stature, the wine list is rather underwhelming. Most wines are Greek and Cypriot and this is commendable. However, the range is limited as it's dominated by Boutari, Tselepos and Kyperounda, all great producers but whose overwhelming presence takes away from the potential for diversity in the wine catalogue. That night, we sampled the 2012 Tselepos Nemea Driopi Agiorgitiko, an easy drinking, fruity and slightly spicy wine that matched most of our dishes.

In any case, I'm sure we'll be back sooner rather than later. Might be time for me to find a Godfather of my own, strip naked before a cassocked priest and then throw a party chock-full of Hallelujahs. Happy Easter, y'all.

Whine On The Rocks' Rating: 4.5 out of 5 Sparkling Spatulas

New Kid In Town

On The Rock, many business people (I use that term rather loosely) love to jump onto the latest fad like pigs to a sty. Last summer, it was Frozen Yoghurt. Everywhere you went, Fro Yo stores spread like homegrown mint, the Old City home to about two hundred of them. This year, cheap yet somewhat stylish souvlaki eateries have taken over, I believe as a result of our bank accounts' bouts with undernutrition and the populace's infatuation with grill marks.

For the past several years, wine bars have too surged in popularity thanks to the success of establishments like Vinocultura and Silver Star, both of which originally launched as cavas. Some of these new additions are quite faithful to their trade and deserve to be known as proper wine bars, while others, in my opinion, are just jumping on the wine-wagon to reap its rewards. For instance, I recently went to one of these so-called new wine bars and, to my consternation, was served a chilled-to-the-bone glass of Cabernet Sauvignon. I couldn't care less how you spin it, that's not acceptable if you want to specialise in wine.

Bar, Cava and Deli from Outside

On the same road as Nicosia's powerhouse restaurant Pixida, you will find Barrique Wine & Deli, the city's latest wine-related addition and one that definitely merits its nomenclature. Open from 9:30 am to 2:00 am, the multipurpose establishment works as wine retailer, delicatessen and wine bar. The space is quite open and modern with sleek lines, dimmed lighting, a long bar with stools and contemporary furniture. There is a large sparsely decorated outdoor patio, again a bit too dark for my taste, and plenty of parking in an empty lot behind the establishment.


What first caught my attention though was the cava that sits in the middle of the room, a pair of short backlit shelves stocked with a great selection of wines, many of them only available at Barrique. Here you will find Zuccardi from Argentina, Douloufakis from Crete, and Apaltagua from Chile, to name a few. These can be consumed at the bar for a small surcharge, a practice impossible for me not to commend. Additionally, there are thirty-two wines by the glass that are properly dispensed by Napa Technology's Wine Station, a service first provided in Nicosia by Vinocultura and now mirrored by the new kid in town. The delicatessen, which sits to a side of the cava, is also impressive and offers customers charcuterie, cheeses and other deli items for consumption in situ or to take home. On one occasion, My Zolpidem Supplier brought us as party favours an unctuous goat cheese, chunks of Mimolette and Parmigiano-Regiano, Napoli salami and prosciutto, all of excellent quality except for the latter which was sliced thick like bacon. Personally, I was thrilled to see Laguiole cheese knives, along with other wine-related accessories, for sale by the deli; these make excellent house-warming or wedding gifts.

Logo & New Zealand Pinot Noir

The bar itself specialises in wine (duh!) and cold foods. You will not find any cooked/hot dishes at Barrique. Charcuterie and cheese platters, bruschetta, fresh salads, bread baskets and other similar offerings compose a well-thought-out menu. On our only visit there, a weeknight in late July, we had a small cheese platter (included both a soft and hard selection), a serving of (properly sliced) prosciutto, another of dressed-up bresaola and bruschetta with olive paste and tomatoes. Given the high quality of the ingredients used by Barrique, it's difficult to get wrong. However, one thing I believe will bother many locals are the smallish portions, something that is not taken lightly on The Rock by the patrons of meze. As for the wine, we stuck to glasses of Prosecco, South African Chenin Blanc, New Zealand Pinot Noir and Aes Ambelis Commandaria, the latter, in my opinion, the star of the evening. Overall, the service was of a high standard (maybe a touch too eager to please at points) and the prices were reasonable for several servings of wine and a few platters.

Kudos to Barrique on a great start, and Zuccardi Bonarda, see you soon.

Whine On The Rocks' Rating: 4.5 out of 5 Sparkling Spatulas

Forking Good!

Fork Food Market Logo

I love food markets and I think they love me back in their own special way. There was that one time in Tepoztlan, State of Morelos, Mexico. The Tepozteco loomed at a distance and I sat on a rickety wooden bench before an indigenous woman who seared corn tortillas on a comal and stuffed them with fresh cheese, zucchini blossoms and huitlacoche, a fungus known as corn smut and a delicacy south of the Rio Grande. Even though the skies opened up and a plastic tarp served as a makeshift awning, little could deter us from enjoying our earthy homemade quesadillas amidst our humid and humble surroundings. A week later, though, the market showered me with all kinds of love: a furious gastrointestinal ailment, the feverish consumption of toilet paper and a self-imposed saltine-crackers-and-serum diet that lasted for what seemed like years.

Early On

Here on The Rock, weekly food markets are non-existent so many of us rejoiced when Fork Food Market set up shop in Aglantzia every Friday from 6 p.m. to late throughout the month of July. With an itinerant location, the market aimed to provide revellers with international street food (no souvlakia here, people) including burritos, pulled-pork sandwiches, Jamaican jerk chicken, cheeseburgers, Taiwanese steamed buns (gua bao), churros, lasagna, vegetarian fare and more.

Gua Bao & Pulled Pork

On our visit last Friday, we sampled a gamut of dishes, voting the burgers and Taiwanese steamed buns as the best-in-show. The burger (my guess is a quarter pounder) was cooked a perfect medium (some might argue medium-rare) and came dressed with bacon, sautéed onions, cheese, lettuce, tomatoes and pickles on a soft bun topped with loads of sesame seeds. For a street burger, it was worth the six Euros and tops, say, Goodburger on Larnakos Avenue. The steamed buns, soft and airy, were filled with either teriyaki-glazed pork belly or salmon, some lettuce and a sliver of cucumber. The pork version was tender and not too cloying, albeit served a bit too lukewarm for my palate.

Churros With Caramel Sauce

Other dishes, while still commendable, were not as successful. The pulled-pork sandwich was not the traditional version we expected. In our world, it's slow-roasted hand-pulled pork doused with a runny Carolina-style barbecue sauce and a creamy coleslaw. The Urban Soul Kitchen's version felt more like a Sloppy Joe: the meat was very finely pulled and seemed to have been cooked in a thick and quite spicy (thumbs up!) barbecue sauce. Also, the bun was too big for the amount of meat included and felt a tad stale. Dessert-wise, Kalopessas' churros were light and flavourful, courtesy of a rich caramel sauce, but lacked the soft crunch I associate with biting into this Spanish dessert. My guess is our portion had been sitting out for a while and wilted like a flower in the Nicosia heat. Furthermore, the beer and wine selection (KEO and Heineken on draft and small bottles of Greek Moschofilero) was somewhat of a letdown. Fork Food Market would have been an ideal place where to showcase Cypriot wines and/or invite Prime Microbrewery or Aphrodite's Rock Brewing Company to supply the beer.

The Masses

Overall, the event was jovial and kid-friendly and brought out the masses by eight-thirty p.m. or so. According to our drunken headcount, at some point there must have been at least 1,500 people crowding Spyros Kyprianou Municipal Park in search of quality street food. There is one issue, though, that deserves to be addressed vis-a-vis the ambiance. A radio station blared music from several speakers and every so often a pair of emcees grabbed the microphones to narrate what was going on around them. Stop that. It's not necessary or enjoyable. We don't need people giving us a play-by-play of what's on offer, specially if it's loud and not comedic. If all this hullabaloo is for your radio listeners, then a simple and succinct message promoting the market every thirty minutes is more than enough. I know brevity is not part of the Greek DNA but many of us don't want a side of yapper with our food.

Fork Food Market's Season Finale will be tomorrow (July 25th) from 6 p.m. to late at Skali Aglantzias. See you there, acoustic earmuffs not included.

Whine On The Rocks' Rating: 4 out of 5 Sparkling Spatulas

#HugYourMechanic

"To Koultouriariko" Tavern, Gourri

Mechanics sure know their meze. Long and dirty days loosening bolts, changing burnt oil, swapping air filters and suspiciously eyeing malfunctioning carburators must open their appetites. I picture a handful of them after work, grime under their fingernails and their overalls smelling of exhaust gas, hunched like giants over a table crowded with enough food to feed a pod of walruses and reenergise them for a new day at work. It hardly surprised me then when My Alternate Personal Skipper (MAPS) told me that a mechanic he works with introduced him to "To Koultouriariko," an inconspicuous tavern on a tight bend in the village of Gourri. On a side note, Gourri takes the prize for "Most Unpleasant Village *Name* on The Rock," one that, in The Wife, Ph.D.'s sophisticated opinion, recalls swine and slime.

The tavern occupies a small traditional corner house with a medium-sized veranda for outdoor seating. The decor is sparse, and the patrons are packed tightly into two rooms, leaving little space but in your belly for the copious amounts of food that's rushed to the table. So there we sat, myself, Little Miss Despot, The Wife, Ph.D., Double Trouble, The Brother-in-Law, Radio Free Cyprus and Cousin #2, hostages to MAPS and Cousin #6's invitation to be handsomely fed.

Towards The End

Please bare with me as I walk you through our meze that Sunday afternoon. [WARNING: Long list in the making.] A traditional and very fresh village salad, feta and all. Green crushed (not crashed, people) olives with coriander and lemon. Tahini dip. Thick village yoghurt. Pickled green chilli peppers and actual pickles. Slices of white bread, both untouched and toasted with olive oil and herbs. Wine-soaked sausages, not as good as Katidata's but still rather tasty. Grilled halloumi, duh. The house specialty and main reason behind our visit, a pastitsio served in a medium-sized terracotta ramekin, piping hot and creamy and nuanced and the best I've had, exclamation point. Runny scrambled eggs with fresh tomatoes. Lemony stuffed vine leaves. More scrambled eggs, this time with spinach. Snails tossed in a sweet and cinnamon-infused tomato sauce. Wine-soaked bacon. Crunchy pork souvlakia. Pitta bread. Tender, juicy, herb-packed sheftalies, again (there's an ongoing theme here) the best I've had in years. Lamb (not lamp, people) chops. Lamb liver and sweetbreads. Bulgur wheat and keftedes, these (their only misstep) too packed, dry and cold for my taste. Moist chicken souvlakia marinated (according to Radio Free Cyprus) with onions, garlic, paprika and yoghurt. Hand cut potato chips sprinkled with oregano. Lamb souvla that fell off the bone, an extra dish custom-ordered by MAPS because, hey, we all need our veggies. A sweet ricotta-filled fritter topped with confectionary sugar for dessert, although MAPS assured us their pitta tis satzis, a grilled pitta layered with honey and sugar that was unavailable that day, is [insert the sound you associate with your mind being blown into a thousand pieces.] All washed down with a few Coke Zeros, gallons of water, a few bottles of Carlsberg and KEO, and Cypriot coffee. Final tally: twenty-four dishes, 22.50 Euros per round booty and one of the best tavern experiences I've had on The Rock.

So, friendly suggestion. Next time you get your car serviced, chat up your mechanic and give him a heartfelt hug; he might tip you off to some hidden, delicious eats. #HugYourMechanic.

Whine On The Rocks' Rating: 4.5 out of 5 Sparkling Spatulas

Don't You Dare Pass It Up!

For the starving artist, memorable eight-course meals are one in a million. Particularly when a couple of classic desserts are transformed into a dramatically-presented, decadent entree that walks the line between sweet and savoury like a crazed yet deft funambulist. Need photographic proof?

Foie Gras: Red Velvet/Duck Prosciutto/Nori/Chicken Skin

This was course #5 at The Pass, Houston's second-best restaurant and one of America's best new restaurants in 2013 according to Bon Appétit magazine. Imagine a fennel-packed, spicy red velvet cake filled with creamy foie gras and a mille-feuille of crunchy nori layered with crispy chicken skin, duck prosciutto and more foie gras matched with the 2010 Peregrine Central Otago (NZ) Pinot Noir. Boom goes the liver.

The (actual) Pass

Named after the section in a restaurant's kitchen where dishes are given their final touches and sent off to the revellers, The Pass, according to my brother Octavio (formerly known as Shawarma Leg Lover), is the closest the city has to a Michelin-starred eatery. Chefs Terrence Galivan and Seth Siegel Gardner, the latter "a hunk" according to The Wife, Ph.D., and Octavieta, Octavio's longtime girlfriend, have created a mecca for Texan gourmands with inventive, impeccably-presented food, an impressive wine and cocktail menu to match each dish, and a refined yet easygoing ambiance. And the bathroom, which is shared with its more casual sister restaurant Provisions, plays Julia Child reading out her recipes in that arresting nasal voice instead of the usual tunes. 

On our night there, The Pass stumbled out of the gate. The sommelier spilled Octavieta's Malbec and failed to change the dirtied glass and white tablecloth. Ten minutes passed before we flagged down a waiter to make things right. To open the meal, their take on Oysters Rockefeller in the trio of Oysters: Po Boy/Raw/Rockefeller was too doughy and drowned out most of its freshness and brininess. The former two, while good, did not foretell the inspired levels of creativity, beauty and lusciousness that would follow.

Hamachi: Bone Marrow Agadashi/Cucumber

Then, things picked up. Despite its phallic disturbing shape, the Mushroom Bread, complemented with whipped ricotta, wild mushrooms and a healthy serving of shaved black truffles, was soft and earthy and matched perfectly what was undoubtedly the best wine of the night, the 1998 López de Heredia Viña Tondonia Blanco Reserva, a Viura and Malvasia blend from Rioja that enticed you with its aromas of roasted nuts, wild mushrooms, wood and slight oxidation. The Hamachi cebiche was highlighted by a silky, savoury and umami-packed bone marrow agadashi that gave life to the fish's nuanced flavour and delicateness, and the Potato: Raclette/Morcia/Apple, a cheese-filled fritter, was a playful and tasty snack that segued into the evening's heavy hitters.

The Foie Gras I paid tribute to above was followed by Lamb: Citrus/Swiss Chard/Coffee Yoghurt paired with (surprise, surprise) the 2010 Domaine Karydas Xinomavro Naoussa. This was the second best dish of the night; a lamb tenderloin wrapped in lamb neck confit, swiss chard and flaky pastry sitting atop a subtle coffee yoghurt decorated with pickled citrus fruits, sorghum and edible flowers. Fact is, whenever the word "confit" is involved you know you've got a winner.

Lamb: Citrus/Swiss Chard/Coffee Yoghurt

If there's one area where things can be bettered it's dessert. In our opinion, the two dishes (plus the petits fours) fell short when compared to the first six courses. Not that they were bad. But the innovation, combination of flavours and striking presentation of the savoury dishes did not entirely come through. While satisfying, vanilla cake with ice cream and a wine-soaked Asian pear stuffed with Stilton on a graham cracker crumble did not quite stand up to the duck livers, bone marrow broth or The Pass' spin on Beef Wellington.

What else can I say? Don't pass it up. Eat, drink, be merry. Ask for an extra helping of foie gras and close your eyes before you sign the check.

Whine On The Rocks' Rating: 5 out of 5 Sparkling Spatulas

Captain Haddock and The Spuds from Mars

Despite my Andean heritage, I am not one to get turned on by spuds. I certainly appreciate hand-cut, crispy and discerningly salted French fries, but more often than not potatoes on my plate are pushed aside like sucked-on olive stones. So when I set out to track down The Rock's premier fish and chips joint—one positive remnant of eighty years of British colonial rule over the island—the chips were the least of my worries.

Lambros' "gazebo" in Dhekelia

Whomever I asked for pointers on lightly battered, perfectly fried fish sent me in the direction of the sovereign British base of Dhekelia in southeastern Cyprus. Figures, no? Overlooking a beautiful bay, home to the Dhekelia Leisure Centre, you will stumble upon Lambros Fish & Chips, arguably The Rock's best eatery of its kind and, if you ask The Wife, Ph.D., one of my many obsessions. On hot summer days, sun-kissed people pack the dark beach below and children waddle through the minute waves that wash ashore. I already envision weekend excursions with The Wife, Ph.D., and Little Miss Despot to stake claim on a few sunbeds and umbrellas and, come lunchtime, take away a few large servings of deep fried haddock and a bottle of Cypriot white to devour by the sea while the daughter swallows sand as if it were Beluga caviar.

Haddock fish and chips

There's nothing fancy about the restaurant. There's a nondescript indoor area and, across the pedestrian walkway, a large rectangular "gazebo" that skirts the seaside and seats most patrons. The furniture is made of durable plastic, and a few annoying feral cats hang out under the tables and pray for a morsel of seafood to fall from the heavens. Even though the menu includes all sorts of goodies (the souvlakia, which I had once, is quite good), their pièce de résistance is rather obvious if you peruse other people's plates. Haddock, cod and plaice are your options and there's plenty of vinegar to douse the fish with. On my last visit, I tasted both the haddock and cod, ultimately preferring the former for its fishier taste and flakier texture. If you like a meatier, less briny meal, definitely go with the cod. What's the money, though, is the batter—light, airy, crunchy, and with hardly any signs of the oil used for the deep fry. The crust is thin so you actually taste the fish and not just greasy, thick dough as in other lesser versions of this English classic. Not sure what's their secret but it makes it worth the momentary arterial shock.

2012 Ayioklima Xynisteri

If you're not a purist and opt to stray from the classic pint of KEO to match your meal, the wine list is basic but good enough to chance upon a decent bottle. The 2012 Ayioklima Xynisteri by Constantinou Winery, for example, had going for it a very subtle fizz and pleasant aromas of citrus and tropical fruits such as pineapple and mango. Otherwise, there's the always reliable Kyperounda Petritis, one of few Cypriot Xynisteris that ages, and a few of the island's vibrant rosés.

With that said, next time you're at Lambros, look out for an overweight Ecuadorian cholo, wife and sand-covered kid in tow. Stop by, say hello and please help yourself to my fries.


Whine On The Rocks' Rating: 4 out of 5 Sparkling Spatulas

Will You Marry Me?

A reader once asked me to recommend a fancy restaurant where he could comfortably and confidently get down on one knee before his longtime girlfriend. For a moment, I thought of my own marriage proposal to The Wife, Ph.D., which, depending on who you ask, involved either a stingy long-distance phone call to Cyprus from Ecuador or a scrapbook in Quito's majestic La Compañia church with a string quartet rehearsing on a stage set by the golden altar. "If I ever had to do it again...I mean, renew our vows...and had to pick as venue a restaurant in Nicosia," I told him, "I would choose 1900 Oinou Melathron, the French-inspired bistro tucked away in one of Laiki Geitonia's uncrowded side streets."

Will you marry me?

If what you want is romance, privacy, impeccable service, an imaginative menu and (arguably) Cyprus's best wine list, look no further. This small, intimate restaurant exudes sophistication—hardwood floors, ornate chandeliers, cornflower blue chaises and sofas, long rectangular mirrors, heavy dark drapes framing the windows, a large painting of elegant women seductively staring at the diners. Each table is candlelit and has a champagne bucket on standby. A bar and counter area at the back of the room exhibit large empty bottles of wine and champagne. Upstairs, a few bottles of Chateau Petrus wink at oenophiles from behind the glass cellar wall, and a private dining room awaits distinguished guests.

Aged Cheese Tart with Red Onion Jam

First off, the wine selection shines bright. On our last visit, The Wife, Ph.D., and I drank the 2007 Quinta do Portal Colheita Tinto, a red blend from the Douro in Portugal that bursts with ripe red fruit flavors and runs at around 30 Euros. However, vinous possibilities are endless as the wine list is made up of over six thousands bottles that comprehensively cover both the Old and New World. This includes lauded Bordeaux First Growths, Super Tuscans, Barolos, Burgundy Grand Crus and Napa Valley Cabernets, among dozens of other styles and vintages. Prices range from 20 Euros to "On Request," which means you better be damn sure you want to share a queen-sized bed with her until death does you part because it's going to cost you a kidney in the black market. Goes without saying, though, it isn't a challenge to find a pleasant and affordable wine to match your food of choice with the help of the establishment's resident wine experts.

Chicken Dressed Up in Chorizo

The food too is impressive. Salads, risottos, fresh handmade pastas, a selection of grilled steaks, and seafood, all touched up with a dash of creativity, are on offer. Last time there, we split the cream of aged cheese and crunchy biscuit with red onion jam, a pie of sorts that played the sweet-slash-savory game with the same expertise shown by Little Miss Despot when gnawing on Sophie The Giraffe. Rich and indulgent, the appetizer could have easily been served as a dessert and was the undisputed star of the night. As our main course, The Wife, Ph.D., had the grilled fresh Norwegian salmon with fennel salad, asparagus and orange reduction, while I had a stuffed chicken breast with a creamy chorizo sauce and garlicky potato puree. Both were simple yet well executed, the chorizo lending a nice kick of spice to the chicken and the fennel complementing orange in the only way, well, fennel can. For dessert, we used the same spoon—a romantic gesture on my part—to share the chocolate souffle with mastic ice cream, sesame seed candy and caramelized hazelnuts, dramatically presented as two luscious edible nests.

Nests for Dessert

I never found out from my reader whether he took his unsuspecting girlfriend to 1900 and popped the question. Wherever he did, though, I just hope she said yes and he didn't have to sell any body parts to hirsute, tattooed traffickers for that celebratory bottle of Dom Perignon. Wherever he is, cheers on behalf of the blog.

Whine On The Rock's Rating: 4.5 out of 5 Sparkling Spatulas

Love At First Bite

It was love at first bite. Raw fish—it was either salmon, tuna or yellowtail—mounted on a thumb of sticky rice and dipped in the traditional wasabi and soy sauce mixture. Many people shun away from the uncooked seafood, some disturbed by its slippery texture and fishy smell, others simply nauseated by the mere idea. For me, however, there was no turning back once that initial morsel hit my molars and slivered down my throat at the ripe young age of seventeen. Since that day, wherever my travels lead me, I have kept eyes, ears and taste buds open for high-quality Japanese food, particularly nigiri sushi, sashimi and maki rolls.  

Eventually, a different kind of love landed me on The Rock and my search for good Japanese food hit a rough patch as restaurant after restaurant, primarily in Nicosia, failed to excite my palate. Then one evening almost five years ago my luck changed, and I visited Larnaca’s Nippon, to this day, in my humble opinion as a cultural-anthropologist-cum-wine-blogger, the best Japanese restaurant on the island.

After not having eaten there since 2009, I decided to stop by earlier this year to (hopefully) confirm my staunch belief in the joint. As usual, Gil Panayiotou, restaurateur and mastermind behind the popular eatery, welcomed our party with a wide grin, cracking a few jokes and lightening the mood as we were led to our table. There is nothing remarkable about the space; white minimalism and some colored fluorescent lighting define its décor. A long sushi bar with high stools anchors the h-shaped room and black tables, which are somewhat uncomfortably close to one another, occupy the remainder of the place. Then again, this is all trivial since what truly matters is the food and its inventiveness. 

We kicked off the meal with a bottle of 2011 Domaine Vlassides White, a Xynisteri and Sauvignon Blanc blend that was crisp and citrusy with a pleasant herbal component but not as complex and aromatic as the 2010 vintage. A few sips certainly got us in the mood to tackle the extensive menu, chock-full of salads, soups, tataki, makimono, appetizers, temaki, nigiri sushi, sashimi, gunkan maki and cooked specials. For those patrons who are either lazy, inexperienced, indecisive or just plain confused by the wide array of options, Gil is more than happy to hear their likes and dislikes and design a somewhat pricey meal based on their preferences. Even though he offered to help us out, this time around our party took to the menu like crazed bibliophiles, diligently working our way through the list and jotting down the reference number for each selected dish to avoid delays when ordering.

By night’s end, our stuffed party of five had sampled twenty-nine different dishes. Vegetable tempura, perfectly battered and fried and surprisingly diverse and light, served as our appetizer alongside a few bowls of salted edamame and tasty miso soup. The sashimi—salmon, tuna, sea bass and yellow tail—was ultra-fresh and dissolved in our mouths, while the Shake & Tuna (thin slices of raw tuna and salmon in a ponzu sauce, vinegar, ginger, soy and spring onion) had a nice kick thanks to the savory acidity of the soy sauce and vinegar. Gil treated us to an unbelievable seafood carpaccio drizzled with extra virgin olive oil and topped with parmesan flakes and fresh basil, a dish he proudly said is a staple chez lui.  The makimono rolls—we ordered eight different types—were, for the most part, creative and properly balanced. We particularly enjoyed the Kani (fresh blue fin crab with black caviar and sweet soy), which had a wonderful briny accent thanks to the caviar, and the Yawakarakai’s (soft-shell crab, mango, cucumber, teriyaki sauce, lettuce and crispy flakes) sugary crunchiness. Additionally, the spicy tuna rolls—a standard at most Japanese restaurants—was uplifted by a lovely and creamy spicy mayonnaise. The Suzuki Cilantro (breaded sea bass, white wine, sweet chili sauce, ginger, coriander and spring onion) took basic fish fingers to a whole different realm, balancing sweet and spicy to perfection, while the Razor Clams with ginger onion leeks and coriander were pops of spiced sea water in our mouths. Ironically enough, despite my adoration for raw seafood, the highlight was the cooked dish Gindara—miso marinated black cod grilled with mirin, sake and soy sauce was flaky, buttery in texture and complexly sweet, worth every penny despite the small portion and hefty price tag of almost thirty Euros. 

Yes, there are a few disadvantages to the establishment. Of the dishes we sampled, our party disliked the scallop tails with fresh chili, coriander and masago sauce, mainly because the tails had a processed food-like consistency and rather tame flavor despite the delicious sauce. Also, I personally felt that the prawns tempura, avocado and salmon in the Angel makimono roll were overwhelmed by the cream cheese’s richness. Furthermore, the restaurant is on the expensive side—for a good meal with wine, expect to pay anywhere between thirty to sixty Euro per person—and the atmosphere feels somewhat cramped. At the end of the day, however, none of these detract from the culinary experience to be had at Nippon, something that certainly explains why so many people from Nicosia drive south to satiate their desire for food from the land of the rising sun.

Whine On The Rocks Rating: 5 out of 5 Sparkling Spatulas

Oh You Pretty Thing!

Unless you believe a couple KEOs, a loaded tray of grilled meats and a bottomless appetite constitute the epitome of gourmet, haute cuisine is hard to come by in Nicosia. Only a handful of local restaurants possess the creativity, refinement and technique to produce truly innovative and hedonistic food, and none of them are better than No Reservations.

Center stage at No Reservations

After strapping a sleepy Little Miss Despot to her crib and letting the babysitters in on her head-swaying fondness for David Bowie's "Oh You Pretty Things" in case of emergency, The Wife, Ph.D., and I marked our first night out in what seemed like centuries with a visit to Chef Martino Speciale's restaurant. Housed on Stasinou 16 only a few meters away from the D'Avila Bastion, the high-end eatery is sparsely yet tastefully decorated and seats about thirty patrons. All eyes though land on the rectangular cream-colored bar and kitchen in the middle of the room that serves as culinary laboratory for Chef Speciale and his team. The tasting menu is fixed, a unique practice for a gourmet establishment on The Rock, and ch-ch-changes every two weeks based on seasonality and availability of fresh ingredients. Diners may opt for fifteen (35 Euros), twelve (30 Euros) or five (20 Euros) tasting dishes, and the hunky-dory wine list focuses on Italy—the 2008 La Braccesca Vino Nobile di Montepulciano for us that evening—with a few other Old and New World selections.

If I had to pick one word to describe our fifteen-course meal, subtlety comes to mind. The most successful dishes were balanced, delicate and artfully presented. We kicked off with a crunchy fried mozzarella ball that sat like a little egg on a nest of spinach chiffonade with smoked pepper. The potato-stuffed tortelloni with broccoli and Taleggio cheese that followed melted in my mouth, and the simple homemade orecchiette with shrimp and a tomato-chestnut broth was something your nonna would prepare on a cold night yet rather refined. Likewise, the seared scallop with pancetta and a cream of peas, as well as the foie gras terrine with figs and olives, were perfectly executed, while the five mini desserts, spearheaded by the luscious flavors found in the chocolate lava cake, amaretto ice cream and pistachio crème brûlée, were a fitting culmination to a local gourmand's dream of something—anything—different in The Rock's capital.

Dessert anyone?

Other components of the meal, I thought, would have benefited from some slight tweaking. While matched with a vibrant, aromatic truffle oil foam, the porcini mushroom strudel was too doughy and overwhelmed its stuffing's inviting earthiness. The polenta and cod cakes with stewed garbanzo beans called for a dash of acidity and some textural contrast to brighten the dish. Furthermore, the veal cheek, albeit tender and tasty, was plopped next to the turkey with rosemary-infused stuffing and seasonal vegetables instead of being served separately, something that would have prevented the muddling of each creation's fine flavors. Finally, and of crucial importance to an amateur wine aficionado like myself, this style of meal screams for a wine tasting menu (say, two whites, two reds and a dessert wine) to complement the courses and their well-thought-out progression.

Despite these minor hiccups, I crave a return visit to No Reservations to see what sort of brave new culinary tricks Chef Speciale has up his sleeves. Next time, though, I hope to drag along the temperamental Little Miss Despot—stroller, rattles, Ziggy Stardust action figure, polka-dot tights, drool and all—to introduce her to Nicosia's most refined restaurant and give the valiant babysitters a well-deserved rest.

Whine On The Rocks Rating: 4.5 out of 5 Sparkling Spatulas