Cypriots love food, especially the meze

By Paul Lambis

Food and travel have long been interlinked. After all, food, culture, people and landscape are inseparable. Cypriots love their food, but more importantly, they love the social aspect that comes with sharing and being together. Admittedly, when it comes to food I am less willing to share with anyone. However, when it comes to Cypriot food, I see it as a celebration – an opportunity to highlight my culture, my ideals and, to some extent, my beliefs.

Defined by the sheer range of various culinary influences, and locally-sourced ingredients that make Cypriot food amongst the freshest available, Meze is a culinary journey through appetising little plates made with rich ingredients, warmth and happiness. A staple part of the dining experience in Cyprus, meze is a treasured eating experience, complemented by a glass of liquor or locally produced wine.

To understand this fascinating aspect of Cypriot life, one needs to look at the origins of the meze and its history, which dates back to the Byzantine Empire. The word Byzantine conjures up images of splendour, ritual and mystery. The food of medieval Constantinople was a fusion of Roman culinary traditions, local Greek and Anatolian practices, the dictates of the Eastern Orthodox Church and the influence of cross-cultural exchange. The people of Constantinople had access to a large variety of food from nearby fertile lands and teeming waters, including active trade routes that brought ingredients from afar. The Byzantines enjoyed meat, primarily pork, and were avid fish eaters, taking advantage of the rich waters where the Bosporus joins the Black and Aegean Seas.

During this period, Byzantine Christianity developed a complex theological system with unique spiritual practices. The tradition of ‘breaking bread’ or come-to-the-table lifestyle became an essential tenant of the early Christians, alongside selling all of one’s possessions and meeting together in the temple, or church. After all, if Jesus saw the value of inviting His closest friends – the disciples – to the final meal before his crucifixion, the importance and the impact of inviting guests to come to the table would serve as a reminder of Christ’s sincerity of heart.

Fast forward to 2020, and the centuries-old culture and tradition of ‘breaking bread’ finds me at a rustic village on the slopes of the Troodos Mountains, seated at a popular tavern, enjoying tasty meze and local wine with family and friends, feeling relaxed and euphoric. Accompanied by traditional Greek music played at a level in the background that has me tapping to the beat (without being intrusive), the first of many courses makes its debut on a table draped in traditional lace. A slice of grilled Cypriot bread with a drizzle of olive oil and oregano, crushed green olives scented with coriander seeds, sizzling halloumi cheese, a platter of dips, a cluster of garlic mushrooms sautéed in fresh cream, and a clutch of aromatic deep-fried meatballs, are merely a series of advertisements before the main feature starts.

As the devious plot of my eating saga unfolds, adding inches to my waistline, the ever so slightly charred on the outside, tender and succulent on the inside skewered pieces of meat reveal themselves as the protagonists to my story. Supported by a cast of side dishes that include half-braised, half-roasted lemon potatoes, stuffed zucchini flowers with rice, and the scrumptious signature Greek dish moussaka, I discreetly attempt to undo the top button of my pants, as the scene is prepared for the next take.

As with all epics, a great plot twist does not just shock. It makes the experience truly unforgettable. Cooked to perfection under a salamander grill, and complemented with a lemon and garlic butter sauce, a wonderful sea bass reveals itself, introducing a radical change in the direction of my culinary journey.

Whether it is a small handful of bite-sized fluffy sweet honey puffs, deep-fried to golden and crispy perfection, preserves of almonds, dates, apricots, cherries, quinces or grapes, or a colourful platter of seasonal fruit, my meze journey has to end on a sweet note.

As a Cypriot, I love my food. I take it very seriously. Whether it is a no-frills village eatery, or an exclusive restaurant with a leaning towards the traditional, all our celebrations (religious or non-spiritual) and family get-togethers feature an ensemble of little plates crowding the long tables: the ever-present and mouth-watering meze.