Rijsttafel in Amsterdam

Tempo Doeloe Rijsttafel

The Dutch East India Company allowed Holland to rule the world for most of the 17th Century (which I learned PLENTY about on our recent trip to Amsterdam!)  Fortunately for the Dutch, this connection to Indonesia brought some of the spiciest, most flavorful and definitely the most fun dishes to northern Europe!  I am often a sucker for a salsa bar or tapas because of the volume of flavor options.  Rijsttafel is like a tasting menu on crack.  At Tempo Doeloe, a tiny yet packed restaurant off the Keisersgracht, the Rijsttafel begins with 6 tiny dishes of delicacies such as samovar, shrimp crisps, cucumber in vinegar and a chicken skewer in dark peanut sauce.  I believe these starters are meant as foils for the spicy plates to come.  Soon, platters arrived with 18 tiny dishes over warmers to keep our pace as we began with mild and worked our way up to extra spicy.  There were chicken dishes in curries and peanut sauces, beef in exponentially spicier gravies and vegetables ranging from simple cabbage to curried eggplants and peppers.  The final dish was served with a warning that we may want to tread lightly given the intensity of flavor in it.  I was reminded of the extreme pepper flavors at Spice Temple, another Southeast Asian restaurant in Sydney, where I discovered layers of antiseptic, citrus and smoke.  That final dish had each elegant layer of flavor, and then pretty much hit me over the head with such ferocity that my stomach turned!  This was way beyond a wasabi overdose.  Fortunately, I had tools to combat the attack: coconut mixed with sweet gravy, cabbage and saffron rice did the trick.

Dutch Pannekoeken

Dutch pancakes are a glorious cross between French crepes and American(?) fluffy skillet cakes.  Crispy yet custardy, they're delicious with a simple powdered sugar topping or with a fried layer of gouda and bacon.  Somehow, they're rubbery enough that even folding multiple times won't crack the fried dough.  Not sure more information is needed; suffice it to say every other day in Holland requires a pannekoeken the way gelato is required in Italy (although, I would recommend a daily gelato.)  Particularly local with some aged Jenever and Heineken!

City Notes - 2012 Update

Everyone loves restaurant recommendations.  We rely on hotel concierges, trusted locals, the odd friend who's been there before, maybe even (reluctantly) online reviews.  Amassing these recos on post-its, iPhone notes, and the backs of business cards in my purse is tedious and leads to confusion in those moments I'm (hungrily, desperately) searching for an option.  So I started saving personal google maps to plot each reco.  Short notes about who recommended, why, what's on the menu and why I liked (if I've been) help me choose where to go.  Proximity to home base is an inherent bonus.

Here are my maps for a few cities I've traveled to, chock-full of great recommendations AND places I've written about!

Amsterdam
Sydney
New York
London
Prague
Sonoma/Napa Wineries
Auckland
Paris

Crush, Seattle

I’d been reading and hearing about Crush for years, but every visit to Seattle was so planned out that an indulgence of that scale was impossible.  Not so for my 30^th birthday weekend in gorgeous Seattle!  I had three full nights to plan out and Crush was at the top of my list.

The restaurant is technically in Madison Valley, but feels like the backside of Capitol Hill.  A sweet Victorian house opens into a downstairs bar with open kitchen.  The style throughout is modern mixed with traditional and the sustainable food theme is carried straight through to the green glass and foliage decoration.

For our first course, we shared the steak tartare and ahi tuna crudo.  The steak was prepared two ways: chopped, with Dijon mustard and pickles in a sweet-savory combination that melted in my mouth, and as carpaccio.  I couldn’t say what cut of meat the carpaccio was, but it was fire engine red, generously salty and served atop funky chopped hard-boiled egg.  The tartare was most impressive when added to a toasted baguette slice, smothered in cippolini onion compote.  The tuna was an interesting foil to the steak because it was equally flavorful paired with far more delicate flavors: crème fraiche, compressed celery, and foam made from something sweet, maybe a berry.  There’s something about the richness of raw beef that is very satisfying.

Our second course was a show-stopper.  Never one to pass up foie gras (unless at French Laundry! Why!?) I was drawn to Crush’s unique preparation and appreciated our waiter’s suggestion to bring it as its own course.  It arrived lightly charred on a bed of clove cake, perfectly warm on the outside and room temperature on the inside.  Rather than a terrine, as is how many restaurants serve foie gras, we were savoring the actual “steak” itself, an unmatched decadence. 

My main course was highly recommended by the waiter and I was not disappointed.  Perfectly cooked duck sliced thin over a bed of root vegetables, Brussels sprouts and candied kumquats.  Across the board, the flavors were perfectly matched to the sustainable fish, meat and poultry on our plates. 

As we waited for a cab, we sat at the bar facing the open kitchen and chatted with the chefs as they shut down for the night.  The owner and maître’d poured us a few glasses of champagne to celebrate my birthday and I couldn’t have imagined a better way to celebrate!  The funniest part of the evening was our hilarious discussion about the California law banning foie gras, and our intention to return to Crush to satisfy our ridiculously indulgent appetite for it!

Juicy Lucy

This sounds foul, but the Juicy Lucy (I understand) is actually a St. Paul, MN tradition.  At the Blue Door Pub, the highlight is generally the melted-cheese-filled burgers, but I found deep-fried cheese curds dipped in tomato sauce even more compelling.  Fried green beans sounded like a good idea (vegetables, right?) but had nothing on the chewy, just-barely-melty cheese curd appetizer.  My blue cheese "Blucy" was good too, if not a little too greasy.

Cafe de Olla

Deciding that, after a few days of appetizers by the pool, then appetizers before dinner, then dinner and cocktails, we could have a night of only one set of appetizers.  Somehow, the logic of ordering a bowl of tortilla soup prior to chicken enchiladas still made sense, though.  I could taste the smokiness of the roast chicken and soggy, fried tortilla chips have never tasted so good.  Highly recommended to any visitors in the Romantic Zone, especially paired with the enchiladas.

Pipi's Fajitas

Somehow I remembered Pipi's as authentic Mexican food.  It's really not.  Unless it's authentic American expectations of Mexican food, in which case, it is the best.  Shrimp fajitas soaked in garlic and tequila so fresh the vegetables are still crisp.  Warm tortillas, guacamole made spicy with extra chopped jalapenos at our tableside and an ice cold light beer.  This is exactly what I wanted to be eating in Puerta Vallarta and what I'm sure to crave the minute I return!

The French Laundry Experience

When offered a reservation at French Laundry, how many seconds of processing the inconvenient location and exorbitant price tag before I agreed?  About one.  Once I learned the reservation was for lunch, I did a little recon to discover it’s the same 9-course menu—it’s just an 11am start rather than 5pm.  Still interested?  YES.

Thanksgiving weekend was rainy in that mysterious way where the streets are wet, the sky is dark, but there’s not a raindrop in sight.  Napa sparkled despite the overcast skies; ponds amidst the vines like mirrors with vivid autumn colors, as if the rain was a glaze enhancing golds, umbers, neon greens.

Arriving in Yountville at 10:15am, we excitedly scoped out the unsuspecting restaurant and busily-attended-to gardens.  Was it a sign there were rainbows in every direction?  I think so!

We were seated upstairs in a room among five tables total, however, with the level of service you’d think we were the only ones in the restaurant.  Immediately upon putting my napkin in my lap I was offered a choice between still and sparkling.  This is usually not a difficult decision for me: still if I’m in dire need of hydration and sparkling on every other occasion because I’m enjoying the novelty of dining out.  In this case, I struggled because, let’s be honest, I wanted to try everything, down to the mineral water served!  And so, I had both.

Wine was trickier yet.  Saying the wine list was extensive is the understatement of the century.  Just locating local options was exhausting.  We finally gave up and mom worked with the waiter to choose three half bottles: a cuvee, sauvignon blanc and syrah.  The Michael Turgy Champagne Reserve blanc de blancs was lovely: crisp granny smith apple.  As I was sipping my first taste, fragrant gougères arrived, a delightfully tiny bite of decadence.  Chou pastry puffs so small and perfectly round were filled with creamy, buttery cheese, likely a Basque hard cheese with a nutty undercurrent.  You know you’re in good hands when you’re getting started with champagne and impressively gooey gougères.

Even before the first course arrived, smoked salmon cornettes arrived on a silver platter.  The platter was a talking point for a good couple of minutes while we pondered the significance of metalwork created specifically for such an exotic dish.  The Scottish Salmon Cornettes, or “Twills,” consisted of red onion marmalade, crème fraîche, chives and smoked salmon scoops atop a cone made from black sesame.  The cone batter is poured, extra thinly, on baking sheets and baked until malleable.  Then it’s wrapped around a metal cone for shape and back into the oven to crisp.  I believe the red onion marmalade was cut into the smoked salmon like gravlax.  What shook up my tastebuds was how non-threatening the red onions were.  Typically, they make or break a bite with such intense flavor it’s easy to overpower.  Cooked down slightly into marmalade, the best parts of the red onion flavor remained while the sharpness was gone, allowing heightened smoked salmon intensity.  I discovered the crème fraîche was all by itself inside the cone, under the smoked salmon, so I deftly, if not unbecomingly, bit off the bottom of the cone to mix the flavors in my mouth.  So worth it.  I found the black sesame cone a subtle burnt complement to the salmon and cream.  (Who am I kidding?  Anything even reminiscent of bagels with cream cheese and lox are a winning combination, forget about it when French Laundry deconstructs it to a science!)

Course One

When the first course was served in a miniature bowl with mother of pearl caviar spoon glimmering in the light, I knew I was in love.  It was touted as a cauliflower “panna cotta” with Island Creek oyster glaze and California sturgeon caviar.  Purposefully in quotation marks on the menu, I had to wonder if the cauliflower = “panna cotta” was really a gelatin and cooked cream recipe.  It was more like savory custard with such strong cauliflower essence it was like I’d never really tasted cauliflower before.  I sensed white pepper which might sound like it would be overpowering but the cauliflower flavor was so strong, it merely set it off.  The shimmering layer on top tasted like the sea which made sense since it was an oyster liquour!  Caviar was icing on the cake, adding another decadent texture to the dish.  I so enjoyed this first course that I dragged on savoring it long after everyone else’s plates were removed and anxious glances from my family members forced me to finish it.  It may have been a mini bowl of flavors but I couldn’t get enough!  I said at the time it was my favorite course and I may have been right.

Course Two

Second course was a salad of Hawaiian hearts of palm, baby beets, granny smith apples, English walnuts and “crème de Raifort.”  I felt like this would have been a “classic French Laundry” example with compressed green apple and micro greens intensifying the tastes.  Beets and hearts of palm are each so mild, my expectations were for more of a palate-cleanser than flavor journey.  It sort of was, except for the surprise of horseradish cream tripping up my senses with its characteristic bite.  My dad would have appreciated the perfectly shelled walnut halves across the board.

Course Three

The third course was by far the most beautiful.  Octopus sliced impossibly thin was arranged as a mosaic with piquillo peppers, artichokes, dots of broccolini bud vinaigrette and squid ink with garlic—plus fried chic pea cubes (in brown butter, no less) and preserved meyer lemon zest and olive oil sprinkled on top.  If you think that’s too many different things in one plate, it was actually just the right amount!  Where to begin…The octopus is an excellent vehicle for the other flavors and spices; perfectly tender and not overwhelming.  Pickled piquillo peppers added a zesty,  acidic counter to the garlicky squid ink and broccolini pesto.  The baby artichokes were pickled as well, but in what could have been straight olive oil, they were so fresh.  The chick pea cubes were light and buttery almost like fried tofu in terms of texture and fluffiness.  My favorite part about this dish was how the combination of flavors didn’t require salt.  Strong lemon zest, garlic, herbs and vinegar combined to excellent, fresh result.  It reminded me of a Greek octopus salad ceviche.

Course Four

Sweet butter-poached Main lobster mitts were impressively just that: lobster meat in the form of large, meaty, perfect mitts.  Despite only tasting lobster a handful of times previously, I’m aware of the general rules for distinction: ability to absorb and/or retain butter flavor and firm texture.  I felt like I was eating lobster-shaped butter.  Two medium-sized, fried salsify sticks gave a slight reprieve from the richness of the lobster, which I dipped alternatively in two oddly matched sauces: watercress and apricot Madras curry emulsion and black trumpet mushroom paste.  Sweet pickled cippolini onion slivers paired well with the strong curry.  While executed superbly, I thought this combination wasn’t as impressive as the others.

Course Five

Devil’s Gulch Ranch “épaule de lapin” arrived with the 2007 Copain Syrah, thankfully, so it could cut the richness of black strap molasses drenching everything on my plate.  This dish was incredibly rich—in a completely different way than the buttery lobster—with dark meat game, bacon and sticky-sweet molasses.  Upon asking where exactly the bacon fit into the recipe, I discovered it (in equal parts to molasses) was the glue holding everything together: bacon mousse was stuffed under the skin of the rabbit shoulder; bacon fat melted the collard greens and chopped bacon flavored the baked beans.  Everything had a brown glaze from the black strap molasses so this was one case where you had to eat the skin because it was crispy, sticky and sweet.  It was the tiniest little chunk of rabbit—maybe an ounce—but so much sweet and salty.

Course Six

The sixth, and largest, course was most like one I would have enjoyed at many restaurants.  That is to say, maybe the least unique, but still likely the best execution of the dish anywhere.  Elysian Fields Farm sliced lamb ribeye arrived atop faro and root vegetables.  Carrots, turnips and cipollini onions were just barely pan-roasted in (from what I could tell) heaps of butter.  They were still brightly colored and crisp as if farm to plate may have occurred within the last hour.  (That’s not actually a stretch since the farm across the street was abuzz throughout our meal.)  The farro was al dente with savory, chewy bits that turned out to be shredded “ribettes” of lamb.  I thought this was a great idea for future starches, mixing tender, shredded meat in.  The lamb was cooked beautifully, mostly rare with jus from the vegetable pan drippings.  Again, this dish was delicious but definitely more predictable than the rest of the program.

Course Seven

I can’t believe I didn’t remember to get a photo of this dish!  A large slice of comte reserve, a raw cow’s milk cheese, was served with sliced potato and Savoy cabbage cooked with Dijon mustard.  Sweet pureed prune dollops rounded out the flavor combination.  The cheese was salty and of a texture somewhere between sharp cheddar and reggiano.  While the cabbage and prunes were extremely odd flavors, I had to appreciate it as one of the reasons French Laundry has the reputation it has as pioneers in the industry.  Two years ago I thought grilled calamari and chorizo were impressive and odd, now I find it on every small plate menu!  Remember goat cheese and figs?  Everyone!  Keep your eyes peeled for mustard cabbage and prunes!

Course Eight

Knowing we’d be served all sorts of sweet goodies after nine + courses, I was still surprised we were served two dessert courses.  Bartlett pear sorbet arrived atop “pain d’epices”  (tasted like graham cracker crumbles with allspice or nutmeg) with pomegranate reduction and compressed pears.  The sorbet and compressed pears were like the first time you taste a perfectly ripe pear at the beginning of the season.  Besides the pomegranate reduction, tiny beads of pomegranate reduction added some texture and individual pomegranate seeds were all equally tart.  My favorite part about the plate was the teensy tiny branch of dehydrated vanilla bean.  It was intensely flavorful and such a fun way to add vanilla in.

Course Nine

For our last course, we chose between chocolate/pistachio/cranberry “pavé” and fuyu persimmon “en feuille de bric.”  Of course, I needed some menu translation help before I could choose between these two distinct tastes.  The persimmon dessert was rolls of pastry stuffed with glazed pecans, persimmons and molasses, so obviously I chose it.  The pastry shell was super thin so that it didn’t distract from the pecan and persimmon chutney packed inside.  Glazed and baked in molasses turned everything extra chewy.  Log-shaped persimmon pieces roasted in molasses were my favorite part.  On this dish, a scoop of cream cheese ice cream cooled everything off and tasted tart like cream cheese but not-to-sweet, just like cream cheese.  I expected cheesecake flavoring and was delightfully surprised.  John and Chris’ “pavé” desserts looked equally interesting with layers of pistachio paste, chocolate mousse, ivory (white-chocolate? Cream?) custard and cranberry gel.  Since their plates were served with crème fraiche sorbet, I had to compare to my ice cream.  They were equally tart and refreshing…and impressively different.

After we thought our luxuriously long meal had finally come to an end, a miniature banana crème tart with housemade marshmallow lightly toasted on top arrived.  Like everything else we tasted that lunch, the fresh fruit flavor was super intense.  I couldn’t believe it when truffles were served afterwards.  Each was made on the premises with crazy flavor combinations like masala chai (and chocolate), banana (and chocolate), tamarind (and chocolate).  I tried two and couldn’t continue.  I was finally, gratefully, full to the brim.

Beyond that, I couldn’t wait to take our server up on his offer to see the kitchen and meet the chef!!  By far the most interesting part of our day, we got to enter the small kitchen and see the chaos up close.  Within 5 feet of the room, you can feel the heat as if you’re about to enter an oven.  Inside, the kitchen is so hot, I expected to look up and see broiler flames.  As we entered, our server informed us a table of eight had requested a tailor-made menu so the foie gras being plated was off-menu.  It appeared to be sliced foie gras terrine en croute, wrapped in pastry on a plate with two different sauces.  Since the Chef was plating eight dishes, we counted fourteen people involved in spreading sauces, moving sizzling foie gras slices from pan to plate and adding presentation herbs!  At one point, the Chef didn’t think the sauces were being spooned onto plates fast enough so he demanded his own spoon to do it faster himself—but the way he asked was to just yell “Spoon! Spoon!!” at the top of his voice until he was handed a spoon!  A flatscreen TV above our heads connected to Thomas Keller’s New York Per Se restaurant where the staff was avidly watching this particular plating.  It was so impressive.  Within 60 seconds, all eight plates were ready to go and five servers came out of the woodwork to move them upstairs.  I’ll bet when their fois gras arrived, it was still bubbling hot!

At this point, the Chef shook our hands, we said THANK YOU and he agreed to sign my menu.  It was a once-in-a-lifetime experience and I wanted to capture it in all the detail it deserved, even if that means the longest post EVER!

New Year's in Bath

 For New Year's, Shelly found a hotel in Bath offering a 6-course dinner, dancing and champagne for the evening!  We drove out early on New Year's Eve to explore the city and rest before our big night.  And it was big.  After courses like smoked venison with pickled walnuts and beetroot, mushroom truffle soup with puff pastry lid, and lamb loin with rosemary cream, we shared at least 4 bottles of champagne with our new French friends until about 4am.  I'd been looking forward to attempting black pudding at the hotel's fancy brunch the next morning, but that's just too much champagne.

Smoked raw venison with pickled walnuts, beets and cranberry sauce

Savory wild mushroom and truffle soup with puff pastry lid

Getting festive

Almost midnight!

MacDonald Hotel at dusk

Fisherman's Pie

 Yeah, I know it doesn't look like much, but this melty, cheese-covered wallop of mashed potatoes, tender cod, shrimp and monkfish in cream sauce tastes like what you'd expect when you combine these things: AMAZING.

Traditional pub, Bath

Tom's Kitchen Chelsea

Context is crucial for Tom's Kitchen.  If you know chef Tom Aikens, that's certain to provide context for the sustainable, seasonal menu.  If you can navigate from the South Kensington tube station to the restaurant, winding through some of the quaintest and most luxurious homes in the world (let alone London) then you also have geographic and psychographic context.  If you're acquainted with crisp London mornings so icy the streets are quiet, then the warmth of the open kitchen and jovial servers might be the best context of all for comfort food.

Tom's is known for celebrity/sustainability/location and it's true, my own experience was very specific to the ingredients, address and atmosphere—but it's how personal and special it felt to me that was impressive.  If every restaurant I went to felt like coming home (and, you know, being treated like royalty) I guarantee cooking at home would be a lost art.  I ordered a smoked salmon eggs benedict with hollandaise sauce so lemony I ignored how rich it was.  The egg yolks were bright orange and it was a shame to break them!  I was insanely hungry for brunch at 2pm so I ordered thick-cut French fries and they might have been the best I've ever tasted.  Ketchup optional.

Bather's Pavilion

When I googled "Sydney's best brunch" a year ago, the resounding winner was Bather's Pavilion.  Not having a chance to figure out a 3-hour chunk of time when I could cab or bus all the way up to Balmoral Beach, I was resigned to knowing it was the best without actually backing it up with experience.  Until this week!  Meagen and I had 3 free hours between a late-morning meeting and afternoon reviews, so we sped up there as quickly as we could.  The landmark building was established in the late 20's to accommodate beachgoers in the fashion of the day.  It still has a charm that would be hard to find many other places in the world, a mix of old-fashioned elegance and sunny frivolity.  Layer that with a world-class chef whose restaurant also has a casual cafe and it's a pretty special place.  I ate a summery, smooth gazpacho with sliced cucumber and micro radish shoots plus a cool roasted tomato, eggplant and greenbean salad topped with baba ganoush.  I loved the roaring garlic in the eggplant spread.  It made the fresh vegetables taste that much sweeter.

Sydney's Hottest

The joke on this trip is that I'm like Stefon from SNL's Weekend Update with endless tips on Sydney's hottest spots.  It started with my over-selling of restaurants when we arrived: harborside for fireworks, Duke's to impress clients, beach brunch at Bondi, you get the idea.  With only the best intentions, I've managed to channel Stefon as club promoter, complete with excited (and awkward) hand gestures.  Below, a guide to Sydney's HOTTEST and all their unique selling points.

Duke Bistro: Sydney's hottest pancake party is Duke. Buttered radishes, test tube mushrooms and drug addict models.  

Ripples: Nibbles at ripples can’t be matched.  Say that five times fast.

Bondi Trattoria: If you’re looking for hot surfers and even hotter moms, the trat is where it’s at.

Zushi: Sydney's hottest gay sushi is Zushi.

Macchiato: Sydney’s hottest figs are at Macchiato.

Bambini: Meat butter.

Cruise Bar: Sydney’s most popular bar on Circular Quay that connects to the cruise ship terminal has red bull sangria and tank tops worn as dresses.

Toko: Sydney’s hottest scene is Toko with backless chairs, bottomless martinis and Brit cricketers.

Bather’s Pavilion: Sydney’s hottest non-alcoholic beach scene.

Toro: Disco. Ball. Sangria by the litre.  Don’t look further than Toro.  Sydney’s hottest tapas.

7-11: Sydney's hottest, sold-out lemon-lime-and-bitters slurpee.

Jimmy Liks: Sydney's hottest chili sauce.  Literally.

Zeta: If you’re in the mood for rose-infused foam, peach beer, and questionable pinot, Zeta has you covered.

Marble Bar: Sydney’s hottest (and only) bar made of marble.

Pitt Street: If you can’t get enough secondhand smoke, B.O. or 90º heat at midnight, Pitt Street pavement is where you want to be.

Il Portico

Our waiter plus our hosts Shelly and Enda

A true gem on Kensington High Street, our recent trip to London would not have been nearly so impressive had we not dined at Il Portico.  It claims to be London's oldest family-run restaurant, however the history and/or PR-ability of it paled in comparison to the food itself.  Simple dishes with minimal flavor corrections: light-as-air gnocchi with gorgonzola cheese.  Spaghettini alle vongole with al dente spaghetti, tender clams and an olive oil, chile oil and white wine sauce.  Minstrone with cabbage and real chicken stock.  Nothing overpowering, nothing out of place.  It was divine Italian.

Mama Thira

Our first night in gorgeous Santorini, we ventured only 50 ft outside Firostefani to Mama Thira.  Overlooking the caldera with two-story, unobstructed views, our table was set at a diagonal so we could both face the windows and the stunning scenery below.  Our diet of lamb—in many and any form—led us to discover Kleftiko, a lamb and yogurt baked dish.  We read that Kleftiko translates to 'bandit's lamb' because when times were tough, thieves would steal fresh lambs and cook them inside a closed pot so the farmers couldn't smell or see the savory smoke!  Add some potatoes, carrots, yogurt and tomato, and this clay pot is seriously delicious.

Firostefani by night

It was perhaps backwards for us to try Kleftiko for the first time at Mama Thira, since their version was a culinary event: deconstructed to a layered masterpiece of crispy scalloped potatoes, soft cubed potatoes, carrots, fresh tomato, bite-sized and oh-so-tender lamb in all the comforting Greek spices.  On top, tzatziki was generously drizzled and garnished with parsley and parmesan.  Simple and traditional comfort food made beautiful.  And the presentation was only half the event: the cubed lamb was impossibly tender on the inside while crispy and herb-encrusted on the outside.  Each bite was a mix of oregano, dill and garlic with that significant olive oil flavor that only seems possible to achieve in the Mediterranean.

"Deconstructed" Kleftiko at Mama Thira

Mama Thira initially drew us in with their appetizer sampler of my three favorite spreads: tzatziki, taramosalata and melezane.  Tzatziki was a staple at every meal of ours with creamy, garlicky yogurt often filled with shredded cucumber, mint and sliced garlic.  A drizzle of fragrant olive oil and I'm in heaven.  John wasn't as big a fan of the Tarama, salty fish roe pureed with potato and yogurt, but I'm a sucker for that salty sea flavor.  The melezane, typically roasted eggplant with garlic and roasted red bell pepper, was especially good without being overly oily.  My ouzo paired magnificently with the powerful garlic in each spread.

Tzatziki, Melezane & Tarama

We loved our experience so much, we decided (pretty much on the spot) that we would be back again before we left Santorini.  Only our last night on the island seemed fitting!