“Samothrace, of beauty and awe”

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The tight membrane of the ice-cold curative water in the skin,

the smell of the origanum in the nostrils

and the sound of the goat’s bells in the ears,

cover only few of the senses, which by the time they are tuned in that way, they reveal your location, even if you keep your eyes shut.

The best sense, the flavor, makes your hypothesis a fact and you completely realize where you are and what is going to happen.

Driving across the north side of the island, you reach the “Karidies” (Walnut trees).

There, among the woods, there is the homonymous tavern.

Many years ago, Maria left her mountain village and built her house in the “Walnut trees”,

 

Her capacity and talent in cooking were given, due to the fact that for many years she was a housekeeper and had direct access to all the necessary, pure and nutritional ingredients.

The passing-by friends of Maria’s family, who were shepherds and hunters, tasted the palatable omelet and made her house by word of mouth the place to be for every gourmand.

As she says: “ I was treating them special omelet, wine, praousti dessert and have a nice meal!”

Her children and grand-children until now continue to treat the visitors of the tavern the best home made traditional food of Samothrace.

Maria’s ancestors biggest success is that they manage to maintain the feeling that you are going home for lunch! That warm you feel when you go to the “Walnut tree” tavern!

You wash your hands in the freezing cold water that flows in the creek outside the tavern, you seat under the fat shadow of the walnut tree and the locals treat you all these tasty meals, as if you were in your grand-mother’s yard, in a summer noon.

 

Omelet made of home, fresh eggs, with tomato, potato, onion and pepper, cut from the garden and goat cheese, fried in the wretched grandma’s pan, that even it adds flavor and yearning into everything it prepares.

Goat on the spit, grilled, prepared in the oil paper, with quinces, stuffed with rice and entrails, cooked in 100 different ways, but always capable of becoming the main reason you are going to visit the island for.

 

Haslamas and praousti (local tasty desserts) cover the exhausted stomach and leave enough sweetness to bring the therapeutic nap under the giant plane tree.

At nights, when you start thinking of what the Kaveiri did many years ago at the same place that you are know standing, you forbid to yourself not to drink

the local wine and tsipouro, leaving the air’s energy to conquer you and release what is unnecessary to you.

 

You will visit again this island or maybe not.

One is for sure, this island will make you love.

Either you will love to love it or you will love to hate it.

(Photo by Margarita Feslian)

V.

 

 

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