The legacy of Greek antiquity extends to the country’s cuisine. One eats there as the Ancients would have done—Greek yoghurt and honey for breakfast, simply-cooked fish and cold wine for lunch and supper—as one reclines languidly on the klinai couch, grapes dangling from the mouth, like Dionysius and Adephagia.
Greek food can sometimes be disparaged as crude and one-dimensional: the runt of the Mediterranean litter, overshadowed by the glorious culinary traditions of France and Italy. But, for me, its beauty lies in its simplicity. And while it is often familiar it is simultaneously unexpected: fat olives in spectacular Greek salads, but also acerbic caper leaves. Feta crumbled atop everything, but baked too with aubergines and peppers. Ouzo banged down upon tables for complimentary shots, but only after several glasses of cold, redolent Retsina, a white wine aromatised with bark from ancient pines.
Seafood
Try grilled octopus at London’s Nissi
Fish and seafood are Greek cuisine’s heart and soul.
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