“If you happen to find yourself in this memory-filled Hansel and Gretel village, pop in.”

“If you happen to find yourself in this memory-filled Hansel and Gretel village, pop in.”

Napoleon Zaglis Kafenio, Kalarites, Epirus, Greece

Kalarites is a mountainous village high in the Epirus region of Greece. In the late 1700s, like many villages of high altitude, the area was rich, wealth gained by the trade of fibres such as silk and wool to Europe. At its trading height, 4,000 people lived in these Arthur Rackham-esque Hansel and Gretel cottages, with rooves constructed from round shaped flat slate-coloured stone, layered against the elements, akin to the beautiful dwellings in Pinakates in the Pelion region of Greece further East. Following the revolution/war of independence, fewer people returned to these villages and trade eventually ceased without a replacement. Now this honey-suckle and prolific rose covered chocolate box village is popular as a long weekend and holiday destination by Athenian tourists, and other nationalities such as Israelis and Germans are starting to discover such areas.

Position alone was insufficient to save the prominently placed, microwaved food serving main taverna in Kalarites square from a potential negative review. However, instead of dwelling on the disappointingly floppy spanakopita, we braved the torrential downpour to find a little café at a small path crossroads further up the hill from the right-side exit from the square; large cobbles forming these ribbons between dwellings and abandoned buildings allow for easy imagination of years of previous hustle, bustle, and donkey pulled carts. Quite a surprise it was on such a quiet wet day after a Greek bank holiday to chance upon an open ‘kafenio’, unchanged for at least 50 years, bar the addition of a TV. From a word including ‘café’ you would be forgiven if your mind conjures up images of speciality coffees served in ergonomically designed cups on stylish saucers, surrounded by the smell of freshly ground coffee, sitting comfortably gazing at the cakes on selection. Instead, at one end of the café is a wall covered much like a wall in a sweet shop with its jars of coloured marbles and twisted canes, but instead with interestingly shaped alcohol decanters with kumquat-coloured contents, various more well-known alcohol bottles and cans, hobnob packets, cereal packets, salt and pepper, detergents, glasses, mugs and the odd antiquated scales, wooden shelves bowing from the weight upon them. This is because a village kafenio is traditionally a café and basic household supply shop combined; however, it is rare to see these nowadays, so it really did feel like stepping back in time! At this end, photos hang on any available space or are stuck to the counter wall; a few of the characterful proprietor give a particular feeling of personality to this space, suggesting a man who has lived in the village for his whole life- it was surprising then to discover he had in fact had a career in computer software in Athens before seeking an early retirement and solace in this mountainous village.

One of the great pleasures in discovering such places throughout our travels in mainland Greece, is chatting with locals, always eager to talk, learn about your life and eager to tell you about theirs, conversations which often lead to basic philosophical debates or an introduction to their family and friends- one thing I’ve learned during these travels is to never set strict time-schedule born out of wanting to see as much of this wonderous country as possible, as conversations with locals can easily conquer a whole afternoon or evening. However, travelling with a Greek speaker or having a basic grasp of the Greek language is advisable as many locals in the mountainous regions of Greece speak little or no English, although nearly all will attempt some form of communication, often with the vivacious use of arms and hands, and reciprocal actions are expected, so be prepared to participate as much as possible.

The other side of the café displays basic tables and chairs common in these mountainous tourist un-tapped villages, a few of which require formidable powers of balance to sit upon. A few pictures and photos adorn these walls but not in the ‘hundreds and thousands’ cake adornment style of the opposite end. The two sides are separated by a particularly sizeable wood burner on one side and the tv placed high on the wall on the other. 2 bird cages hang high from the walls, one above our table by the window. There are no menus, again usual for more authentic, local tavernas and cafes, and the food available was described proudly by another gentleman with a kind face presenting a familiar smile. Due to the torrential rain and time of day inopportune for Greek coffee, we opted for hot chocolate, which was presented to us in Christmas themed mugs, and traditional lemon spoon sweets (soaked lemons, flesh spongy with a harder almost candied peel enveloping it, served in its syrup). I am not usually one for candied fruits but this was different, perhaps due to the different textures, but also the tartness of the lemon which was still detectable despite the syrup. After a brief venture to catch a glimpse of neighbouring village, Syrako (nearly an hour’s car journey but only ½ hour on foot in the right conditions), we returned to this, our new favourite haunt for an early dinner (an evening meal pre-20.30 is a strange concept in Greece), where once again the chef-turned-waiter proudly described the evening’s offerings. My camera’s fascination of the place earlier in the day had sparked the amusement of our new friend, and he joked jovially that I should continue my photographic exploits on the full table of flavour adorned plates, to which I happily obliged, much to the amusement of our table neighbours with whom we chatted on and off throughout the evening. Giganti beans, breadcrumb-like crispyness nurturing the softer flesh inside, paste-like from cooking, sprinkled with red pepper spice and herbs- a very different take on a classic dish, which I appreciated. Galotyri, a creamy sourish cheese dip found only in mountainous regions. A fabulous, colourful Greek salad (a must-have accompaniment to any meal). And, finally, local mutton, boiled and oven-baked. All provided 2 soaked through intrepid explorers (slight exaggeration) with perfect comfort food. We did not expect fabulous presentation. We did not desire fabulous presentation. Nor did we want perfection on this drizzly day. And we did not receive either. Yes, the meat could have been cooked slightly less making it less tricky to saw through, and I did detect a couple of burnt crispy beans, but these were details which were easily forgiven. The welcome provided by both the owner and the host was characteristic of Greek hospitality; the food was local, flavoursome and satisfying. If you happen to find yourself in this memory-filled Hansel and Gretal village, pop in!