Putting politics to one side, it is sometimes worth heading north for food
THE NORTH. How should we call it? The occupied north? The Turkish pseudo-state? Whatever, it is still uncharted territory for foodies. Some people think it should remain so. Some (though I hope not many) readers are already turning away with a disapproving shake of the head, as they realise this is a review of a restaurant in northern Nicosia, Nicosia beyond the Green Line, pseudo-Nicosia if you must.
In fact, there’s nothing ‘pseudo’ about the area’s rapid development. El Sabor Latino (or Sabor, as they call it), serving Spanish and Italian food in the shadow of St. Sophia Cathedral, has been open for about a year, testifying to the emergence of a cosmopolitan yuppie class in Northern Cyprus since the checkpoints opened in 2003. Most of the diners I saw were in their 20s and 30s and showed their open-mindedness by recognising the name of this august journal. “Really? You write for the Cyprus Mail?” smiled a young woman when I asked if I could take her photo.
This is (obviously) not the place for political comment, but it’s worth noting that people like her – people who are interested in ‘the other side’ – are our best hope if we’re ever going to get beyond empty nationalism. Of course some will argue that being interested in the other side is one thing, supporting the regime by eating at restaurants in the north is quite another. Still, at a time when our government is officially proposing aid packages for the Turkish Cypriots, the ‘starve them into submission’ theory is looking increasingly dubious.
One thing’s for sure: take a map (or a taxi) if you’re going. We elected to walk, reckoning it wouldn’t take more than 15 minutes to get from the Ledra Palace checkpoint to St. Sophia. That’s probably true, but the main road winds in counter-intuitive fashion, going in the wrong direction then (apparently) looping round. We foolishly turned into the warren of dark narrow streets in the Old City, and got hopelessly lost.
We passed Bochdjelian, the well-known meze restaurant, as well as a place that looked like a wine bar but turned out to be the Journalists’ Union (is there a difference?). Finally, after various dead ends, we spotted a youngish woman talking to a fierce old man with a shepherd’s crook and – incongruously – a small Pekinese. With the dog yapping at our heels we asked for directions to “Selimiye Square”. To our surprise, the woman offered us a lift, saying she was going that way anyway; it turned out she was a politician canvassing for votes a few days before the elections, and an MP for the hardline UBP party. The fact that a Dervis Eroglu crony could’ve been so kind to a couple of stranded ‘other-siders’ is enough to renew your hope for solution to the Cyprus Problem.
But what about Sabor itself? Well, it’s very good – and a revelation if you only associate the north with seedy tavernas. Obviously the place is trendy, the lighting low, the prices relatively high (though still lower than in the south). It’s ‘designed’, albeit with a few glaring imperfections. Napkins come out of a dispenser, as they would in a fast-food joint. Black-and-white fashion photos spice up the décor but one wall is completely bare, with ventilation windows showing unattractively.
Ceiling fans suggest no air-conditioning, which might be a problem in the summer (it’s a big room) – though I’m guessing you can sit outside, since it’s literally next to the Cathedral in the midst of a cobbled square.
The menu is divided into Spanish and Italian dishes (plus an inexplicable section for “Noodles”). We had a couple of tapas – a rather crumbly Tortilla and properly garlicky calamari – then switched to pasta. Penne Arabiatta was as perfectly al dente as any I’ve tried, while the special Fetuccine ‘El Sabor Latino’ was absolutely crammed with chicken pieces, calamari rings and medium-sized prawns, all in a creamy tomato sauce. On the minus side, the waiter didn’t come round with extra Parmesan, and desserts (cheesecake and tiramisu) were undistinguished.
Still, Sabor is impressive. It’s also good value for three courses, especially considering we had both beer (the local Efes) and wine, a Turkish red called Villa Doluca. Above all, it’s good to feel anonymous once in a while, being in a place where nobody knows you. The north is still a foreign country. Hopefully not for much longer.
By Theo Panayides
SPECIALITY Pasta, tapas, paella
SEATING 100-120
WHERE Selimiye Square, Lefkosia
PRICE Around £20-25 for two, with wine
