Juicy Juicy Fish Heads
I haven't the time or stamina to do a blow by blow travel log of our trip to Greece, but we will do our best to give you all of the tasty bits in as much living color as we can. So you'll have to trust me that we made it from Utrecht to the Island of Paros using a Richard Scaryesque combination of planes, trains, automobiles, and boats over the course of 36 hours. After we arrived, our first order of business was to find some food that wasn't pre-packaged or heavily processed. No tall order since we had strong forces allied against us: 1) It was the "low" season on the island (which was otherwise a fantastic time to be there) and 80% of all eating establishments (shops, hotels, brothels, churches, etc. etc.) were closed for the "season" and 2) it was "siesta" time and 19 of the other 20% were closed for a nap.
Finally we found a fish house on a wharf, just a stone's throw from the fishing boats and everyone settled in for a nice meal -- though Elena was initially a bit skeptical.
We intended to order Cod. Erin had it recently, somewhere -- I don't recall where -- and since the Cod fisheries of the eastern seaboard are all but gone, it seemed a good opportunity to try salted and fried Cod. Lesson #1 -- everything on the menu is not available, particularly in the off season when they seem to make 2 or 3 entrees, let you try to guess which ones are available and, thus, order knowingly (never happens) and then tell you what you are going to eat (unless you want to get up, pay the cover charge for bread and water, and try to find another open restaurant). Fortunately the food is all quite good. At any rate, you guessed it, no Cod. But she suggested something else, Borrega or something, that was very fresh and good. OK. Sounds great. We tucked into our Greek Salad and awaited the fish (thinking **one**, large, filet style).
Shortly thereafter our breaded and fried fish (many, small, fortunately dead but otherwise unprocessed) arrived.
Fortunately we operate on the principle that "when in Rome..." is a good way to eat and, usually, ends up getting you a better meal than if you stuck with your "gringo" ideals. So we gave the fish a whirl, which proved lots easier once you cut the heads off (sorry for all you die hards, but we couldn't go that far. And we never actually **saw** anyone else eat the heads, so we may have been 100% authentic). In fact, Elena loved cutting the heads off, and the fish themselves.
Before long there was nothing left but a plate of tasty morsels for a half dozen or so of the thousands of feline inhabitants of Paros.
Mmmmmmm. Lekker!
Finally we found a fish house on a wharf, just a stone's throw from the fishing boats and everyone settled in for a nice meal -- though Elena was initially a bit skeptical.
We intended to order Cod. Erin had it recently, somewhere -- I don't recall where -- and since the Cod fisheries of the eastern seaboard are all but gone, it seemed a good opportunity to try salted and fried Cod. Lesson #1 -- everything on the menu is not available, particularly in the off season when they seem to make 2 or 3 entrees, let you try to guess which ones are available and, thus, order knowingly (never happens) and then tell you what you are going to eat (unless you want to get up, pay the cover charge for bread and water, and try to find another open restaurant). Fortunately the food is all quite good. At any rate, you guessed it, no Cod. But she suggested something else, Borrega or something, that was very fresh and good. OK. Sounds great. We tucked into our Greek Salad and awaited the fish (thinking **one**, large, filet style).
Shortly thereafter our breaded and fried fish (many, small, fortunately dead but otherwise unprocessed) arrived.
Fortunately we operate on the principle that "when in Rome..." is a good way to eat and, usually, ends up getting you a better meal than if you stuck with your "gringo" ideals. So we gave the fish a whirl, which proved lots easier once you cut the heads off (sorry for all you die hards, but we couldn't go that far. And we never actually **saw** anyone else eat the heads, so we may have been 100% authentic). In fact, Elena loved cutting the heads off, and the fish themselves.
Before long there was nothing left but a plate of tasty morsels for a half dozen or so of the thousands of feline inhabitants of Paros.
Mmmmmmm. Lekker!
posted by Jake | 12:27 PM
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