Opinion
By Michalis Michaelidis
Although I could offer a few answers to the question, I honestly still wonder why this has been the case, consistently, in Troodos.
I remember a trip a few years ago to Epirus, where, among all the other wonderful things we experienced, the food served in the tavernas and restaurants stood out unmistakably. Goat, mutton, trout. Especially the day we went rafting on the Arachthos River and immediately afterward had a table booked at a taverna in Pramanta, I think I’ll carry that day with me forever. Partly because we nearly drowned (that, of course, is another story), but mainly because after the adventure a heavenly meal was waiting for us at a village-square taverna. Through the large glass windows we watched the wintry scene of frozen Epirus, it was March, after all, while at the same time we were delirious over the meats that had just been served to us, at a privileged table, beneath an embroidered wall hanging with deer and flowers, and a shotgun like the ones that used to be mounted on the walls of hunting clubs and tavernas.
In an utterly cinematic setting, then, we enjoyed extraordinary food, food I still talk about as having been, without question, among the best of my life. The salad, the potatoes, the goat, the lamb chops, each one flawless. Equally memorable were the meats at the taverna where we stopped one evening in Amfithea, near Ioannina, as well as the trout in Kalpaki, at a country restaurant with a 1990s aesthetic, right by the river.
If you add to the equation the arched bridges of the Zagorochoria, the view from the highest point of Konitsa, the breathtaking Vikos Gorge, the almost exotic landscape along the Arachthos, and the authenticity of the people everywhere you go, and, of course, the robust flavors at every restaurant (Greece, truth be told, has good meat and good fish everywhere), it’s easy to understand why this destination has been etched permanently in my heart.
With experiences like these, every time I head up into our own mountains, I’m left with the same question. Why don’t we have good food in the countryside too, apart, perhaps, from a few small exceptions? Marathasa has always been the poor relative on the rural gastronomic map. The same goes for Troodos and the surrounding villages. Tavernas and dining halls exist; what’s missing are the strong proposals, far from buffets and other practices that don’t favor quality, freshness, or consistency. We’ll probably have to wait for investments in Troodos and the nearby villages if we want to see serious gastronomic projects, because only then will others be motivated as well, finding the incentive to move beyond souvla, liver, bulgur, and zucchini with eggs.
It’s a shame, really, to be in such a diverse mountain range, in this tiny patch of land we happen to inhabit, and still not have found a way to create a proper taverna in Troodos Square, a wine bar on the North Face near the ski center café, a small destination restaurant with its own garden, like those abroad that sweep up awards year after year.
Many times, when people ask me for restaurants near Troodos, I have to travel quite a few kilometers down the map to find things worth recommending. By contrast, if I’m in Paphos, I find options much more easily, like the gem called Farmyard in Kathikas, or Mensa in Panagia, and Stafylomelo in Stroumpi. What emerges as a shared conclusion, in any case, is that Troodos has a problem with its food.
Especially at this time of year, all the buzz surrounding its name, thanks in part to the first snowfall, definitely loses points when measured against the flavors it offers visitors. Let’s hope that soon it will be able to compete with Pramanta and Kostitsi, not only in natural beauty, rivers, and bridges, but also in the experience offered by its restaurants.
