L informed me that he didn’t enjoy where we ate the previous morning. I wanted to say that’s what you get when you want to be spontaneous. However, I held back and suggested Λαγογιάννης Bakery. Since the weather has been extra hot, particularly in Greece, let’s listen to Mungo Jerry’s “In The Summertime.”
We ordered lattes (€3), a spinach pie (€3) and a sweet vanilla pastry (€3). The espresso was rich and robust, and the foam so dreamy that I would close my eyes with each sip.
The spinach filling was thick, infused with dill and lemon. L’s cake was light, flaky and sweet from the vanilla custard. When L told me how much he enjoyed his breakfast, I said he could thank Google reviews for finding this gem.
We spent the morning sightseeing. I was intrigued with the Melanes Kouros Statue because I was surprised that such a large marble project was abandoned all these years. Who pulled the plug? Why didn’t anyone else want to resurrect the statue? One would think if the City of Calgary could manage to fix the Wishing Well, Naxos benefactor would try to salvage the statute.
For lunch, L picked another beach destination. Most restaurants were hustling for customers. We picked the busiest restaurant along the beach. Our shaded patio table was inches from the water, and occasionally, the breeze would come and cool us off.
We ordered calamari (€14), saganaki (€6) and fresh fish (€15). Typically when we order fried calamari, we get the rings (mantle) or rings and tentacles. This was the first time we got baby squid. The texture of the squid was thinner than the rings, with a bouncier, lighter mouthfeel.
Our server recommended fried barbounia (striped red mullet). The flesh is rich and firm, and the fishy flavour reminded me of mackerel.
While we ate, several cats surrounded us. I noticed one cat was injured, as parts of its skull were either missing or burned off. I fed the cats bits and pieces of my fish, and once my plate was empty, they vamoosed.
On the way home, we stopped by the Olive Museum. I was expecting an experience like a tasting at a winery, but for olives. Instead, we saw a few pieces of equipment and a gift room with overpriced olives and lotions. However, the olives were so good that I bought home two packs.
For dinner, I wanted to check out a restaurant near our hotel, Maros. I read the online reviews, and it appeared to be a legit restaurant for simple Greek food. We sat outside next to two young women from Montreal. I know this information because all the male servers kept coming to their table to make small talk. They wore halter tops so I could see their washboard stomachs. I watched with awe and jealousy as they easily polished off two entrees and three large appetizers.
L and I shared zucchini balls (€5), lamb (€10), a Greek Salad (€6), chicken souvlaki (€10), and yogurt (€4). L ordered a beer (€3) while I stuck with a copper pint of house white wine (€5).
When I first saw the zucchini fritters, I wasn’t impressed. In this case, looks are deceiving. The interior was soft and fluffy, creamy with feta, dill and mint. The outside was crispy, and the filling just melted in your mouth. Each bite was bursting full of flavour. I would get this again.
The lamb was tasty. The texture of the meat wasn’t fatty or gamey. However, I didn’t like the copious amount of bones and the fact it was served at room temperature. I was tempted to ask our server to pop my dish back in the microwave. The lemon potatoes were also underdone.
I was too full to try L’s chicken souvlaki, which he enjoyed. Other people who looked like locals ordered generously stacked plates of creamy pasta and fries. I wondered if we ordered the wrong dishes, but L said we didn’t come to Greece to eat carbonara.
For dessert, L and I shared yogurt with honey. Yogurt in Greece is unreal – the texture is like a cross between custard and whipping cream, but with a zip to it.
After dinner, we wandered around the castle to work off our heavy dinner. The restaurants at the castle looked so enchanting, with the sparkling lights set against the white walls and music twinkling out onto the corridor. But I had already booked our last supper in Naxos, and I knew the next restaurant was a real winner. To be continued.
Hitting the Sauce 