Foooood, Part II

I am happy to report that we’ve kept up with the survey of saganaki (the fried cheese) and keftedes (tomato balls) in Santorini. We’ve had each at least once a day and I’m happy to report that they are all good. We have now had the keftedes with spearmint as well as dill (not at the same time). I’d be hard pressed to say which one is better. If I make them at home I’ll probably do them both ways--and maybe try basil, which we did not have on Santorini but which seems like an obvious choice. Everywhere you go in Santorini, you’ll find little tavernas advertising and serving "traditional" Santorini food: tomato balls, tsatsiki, fried eggplant, saganaki, taramosalata, souvlaki, etc. And they are all pretty good. We didn’t have a bad meal the entire time we were there. So what’s to judge? Some of the tomato balls were a little greasier than others. The mint vs. dill question. Zucchini or no zucchini? Hell, they’re all good. But we’re giving the Best Tomato Balls in Santorini (okay, among the dozen or so we sampled) to Santorini Mou, the place right near our hotel with the friendly owner who serenaded us newlyweds. That place is on my "must go" list for anyone who asks, as much for the experience as for the food. And they also have the best tomato balls. Why? They were the most tomatoey. Santorini is famous for its tomatoes and these really let the flavor of the tomatoes take center stage.

As for saganaki: again, some are greasier than others. Some undercooked the cheese, so it wasn’t quite as gooey as hoped for. But hell, even "substandard" fried cheese is pretty damn good! And they were all pretty damn good! And then there is the saganaki at Metaxi Mas.

I read about this place on TripAdvisor when I went searching for saganaki online. The rave review of what the writer called "the best saganaki and runner up saganaki in all of Greece" convinced both Paul and me that it was worth the trip. For research purposes if nothing else. (Right.) It’s a bit off the beaten path, in a tiny hilltop village in the middle of the island (I think it’s the only place we ate that didn’t have a view of either the Aegean or the caldera). As we gleaned from the TripAdvisor review, you’ll see that Metaxi Mas’s saganaki is not your basic fried hard white Greek cheese. They have two varieties: of course we had both (on different nights).

The first was pan-fried feta cheese in pastry covered with sesame seeds and honey. Wow! It just melts on the plate and then in your mouth. An entirely different dish and one of the best things, Paul and I agreed, we’d ever eaten. We also had a barley bread appetizer with soft cheese and delightfully fresh tomatoes and capers (a Greek bagel with cream cheese!), Cretan cottage cheese pie that was quite tasty, a pomegranate salad (we’ve been eating lots and lots of salads in an effort to be virtuous--although the salads are so good in Santorini that virtue is pretty much beside the point) and the most delicious, delicate lamb chops, which are, Paul reminds me to add, sold by the kilogram! Most of the chops were very slender things with just a bit of tender and not-very-fatty meat clinging to them. A few were more substantial. Paul declared (with a straight face) that it’s because the lambs walk around the mountains and one side becomes more developed than the other. (Hey, it’s a theory. Of course he’d made that up.) We had "Cretan jacket potatoes," which looked like plain sliced boiled potatoes but were sweet and creamy and anything but plain.

We went back to Metaxi Mas for our one-month anniversary dinner on Tuesday (June 28), and had the second saganaki: this one was a gruyere-type cheese in a crust. Also fantastic, but we agreed that the first one, with the melted feta, took the prize.

Speaking of potentially "substandard" saganaki, I actually made some of my own while we were in Santorini. We had a little kitchenette (basically a refrigerator, 2-burner hot plate, and a very few dishes and utensils) at the room, as well as a lovely little table on a patio, so we had breakfast in every day and also endeavored to have either lunch or dinner "at home" to save money (and calories). We’d bought some hard white cheese (don’t ask me the name of it) and we had some butter as well (no olive oil!), so I sliced up the cheese and fried it in some butter. We had no flour or seasonings of any kind (including salt and pepper), so it was just plain cheese fried in butter. It made a mess and it was delicious! (Paul: anything fried in butter is going to taste good, probably even cardboard. But cheese is better.)

It’s a good thing Italy is next on the agenda; otherwise we’d really miss the food in Santorini (probably will anyway!). In addition to the Greek specialties (Paul is also very fond of the taramosalata, the pink fish roe dip popular in Greece), we’ll miss the salads with their fresh fresh veggies (especially cucumbers--I'd not been much of a cucumber eater before, now I can’t get enough of them) and most especially, the fish: sea bass and sea bream, fresh caught, brushed with olive oil, served whole. Sweet and moist and so so good. Our last dinner, literally seaside at Taverna Katina at the docks below the village of Oia, won the prizes for best taramosalata and best fresh fish. A fitting end to a wonderful stay on a gorgeous island!

I will end with a short rant about shrimp. I hate to be a fastidious American (but there you have it), but what is it with serving shrimp whole and in the shell. Yes, I suppose it’s more flavorful that way--and yes, when you eventually get to eat it, it’s much sweeter and flavorful than "naked American shrimp." And the idea of eating shrimp fresh out of the water and tossed on the grill has its appeal. But here’s the thing: those shells are hot! And if there’s a way to peel them and cut off the heads etc. without burning your fingers, I haven’t figured out what it is. And of course by the time you’ve done that, they’re not hot any more. Let’s also not forget that the shrimp aren’t cleaned when cooked this way, so your choices are to do yourself or eat what is essentially shrimp poop. (Paul: shrimp poop is probably not like eating, you know, regular poop. Me: It’s poop.) I don’t know about you, but wiping my food’s butt before eating it is rather offputting.

And lest I’ve ruined all your appetites by that last rant, I will atone by including links to some of our favorite restaurants. I’m guessing the menus will have your mouths watering again!

Metaxi Mas, Exo Gonia

Santorini Mou, Finikia (Oia)

Fish Taverna Katina, Ammoudi Port (below Oia)

Mama Thira Taverna, Firostefani (next to Fira)

Ochre Wine Bistro, Oia

Antiquity

Soon after the wedding, Paul and I drove his sister Sally to Pecos to see the ruin of the old church there. Back in the day, Pecos Pueblo was the biggest town in what is now New Mexico: the trading center, the place to be. Now all that’s left is the ruin of the kiva, a few adobe bricks where houses used to be, and the stone remains of the 1700s church. (Note to self: if you want to be remembered for centuries, build things out of stone.) The town of Pecos does, of course, still exist. But the sleepy mountain village is something else entirely to the civilization that once flourished and is now lost.

Which brings me, of course, to Istanbul. The glory days of Pecos Pueblo were the day-before-yesterday compared to the city that had formerly been the Eastern capital of the Roman Empire. But, like Pecos and its lost pueblo, the modern-day city of Istanbul has only geography in common with the glory days of the Byzantine capital. But there, hanging out between restaurants and souvenir shops, tram tracks and carpet vendors, are some of the oldest and most glorious buildings in the world.

Paul is the medieval historian in the marriage. (Can you believe I married someone who is actually MORE of a history nerd than I am?) So he knows more about the story of the emperor Constantine, who embraced Christianity and founded the eastern capital of the Roman Empire at a place he named Constantinople. I definitely learned to be impressed with the Emperor Justinian, who lived a century or so later, and had the Hagia Sophia built--actually rebuilt, for the third time. This is a HUGE place, it’s fabulous and gorgeous, and it was built in the 6^th century! How cool is that?

Also from Justinian’s time, there still exists underground cistern with columns from all over the place, including two with the head of Medusa at the base. Being an American, this kind of thing just amazes me. Here I live in the oldest capital city in the United States, and compared to this, well, it’s barely old enough to walk. Even the Anasazi hadn’t made it to the Santa Fe area in the 5^th century.

[I don't think I posted the photos of the Hagia Sophia and the Cisterns yet. Will get on it, veeerrrry slow internet connection here in Santorini willing.]

The glory of Pecos Pueblo ended not as a result of conquest, by either Spaniards or raiding tribes, but by drought. Byzantium was finally lost for good when the Ottoman Turks invaded Istanbul in 1453 (thank you, Paul). It’s as hard to picture the glorious days of Justinian's time in modern Istanbul as it is to imagine a thriving native trading center in today’s Pecos.

Anyway, Istanbul will never be Paris or Barcelona for me. But the history here is something else. The Byzantine Empire in all its phases, then the period of Islam, when the churches (including the Hagia Sophia and the Chora Church) became mosques and the iconography was (mercifully) mostly painted over rather than destroyed. (Both of the above are now museums, with the earlier iconography once more uncovered. Ironically, perhaps, there was more damage to the old artwork as a result of warring factions in Christianity (iconoclasts vs. iconodules) than due to the takeover of Islam. (Boy is this ringing a "local" bell for me: so much of the old Spanish folk art--the santos in New Mexico’s old churches so prized today--was destroyed or painted over by the European priests who came to Santa Fe with Bishop Lamy in the mid-1800s!)

I’ll finish with another weird connection between Istanbul and New Mexico:

We saw a lot of carpets in Istanbul with Navajo designs! What?! It made me wonder if those designs had originally been Moorish and brought to New Mexico with the Spanish missionaries (as was, for instance, the adobe brick-making technique). But no: they are Navajo designs that Istanbul weavers had seen on trips to the US or in pictures. Go figure.

A few thoughts on leaving Istanbul

Things I will not miss about Istanbul:

The traffic! The cobblestone streets of Sultanahmet (there is definitely some sort of law that the streets of European Old Towns must be paved in cobblestones) are often so clogged with diesel-spewing cars that it’s difficult to walk. Very narrow sidewalks (if any) and pedestrians definitely do NOT have the right of way!

The hills! Our lovely hotel is at the bottom of the Sultanahmet hill and it’s a good long walk up to the main street. Have been grateful that we (a) live on a hill in Santa Fe and (b) had come from 7,000 feet to sea level. Actually, the main thing I minded about the walk was the cars (see above!).

The vendors! Until you’re ready to do some real shopping, you can’t even make eye contact with anyone, let along stop to chat. Even answering a question (or, God forbid, asking one!) is likely to lead to sitting down and having a nice cup of tea while the merchant will continue to tell you that, even though you are not in the market for a carpet, you should see because $2000 is too good a deal to pass up. And how about this one? (Actually, that was fun, and to be fair, I believe that’s how it’s done in Istanbul. Buyers pretend to be not at all interested, merchants keep going--eventually they’ll realize that no, you mean it, you have absolutely NO intention of buying a $2000 carpet.) Sometimes, though, the constant haranguing: here, look at this, come in and eat this, come into my shop, you must be from Canada!, etc.) is a bit wearing. And the sales technique seems to be to never stop talking for a second. I’m a New Yorker, the "hard sell" thing backfires with me!

The bureaucracy! We only got to see that accidentally, but during that Kafkaesque day running between FedEx and the airport, several people confided that they wanted to live elsewhere in the world because, as one man who’d lived for awhile in the UK said, "I felt so free there."

The pickpocket who stole my camera. Grrrr.

Bitch bitch bitch. Probably a bad place to start. Here’s what I WILL miss about Istanbul:

The food! The hollow fluffy bread that blows steam the first time you break it. The shepherd’s salads that we had with almost every meal: cucumbers, tomatoes, and fresh parsley in pomegranate sauce, with occasional additions of walnuts, cheese, and/or onions.

The friendliness of the people! "Hard sell" notwithstanding, most people we met were lovely and friendly and helpful. The guys who ran our hotel could not have been nicer. If you go to Istanbul, we totally recommend the Basileus Hotel. Newly renovated, clean, comfortable, convenient, good value, great location (except for the death-defying street outside the door!). And staff that will help in every way they can.

The cats! Hilarious that they are everywhere. I'm reading a novel by a local writer that recounts a story about the Prophet cutting off a piece of his robe rather than disturb a sleeping kitty. Perhaps that's the source of the well-tended and well-fed cats who seem to have free reign over the city.

The antiquity! I especially enjoyed walking down any old street with people’s laundry hanging out back and kids playing nearby, and across the street is some thousand-year-old building.

The sites! Did I mention antiquity? Mind-boggling how old some of these places are. Makes most of Europe look spanky new! (More on some of those places in next post.)

To see more Istanbul photos, go here:

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