Kalo Chorio in Greek means “Good Village”, raising all kinds of etymological puzzles. What was it about this village that made it so good, back when names were being chosen? Was it packed with virtuous, God-fearing people? How did other villages feel about this? Was there a general consensus in the area that Kalo Chorio was a good place to be, or did the neighbours secretly grumble about the colossal nerve of the Kalo Chorites, and their arrogance in setting themselves up above the pack?
We’ll never know – though you could try asking Costas at the Koutsonikolias Tavern some time, when the night’s winding down and you’re on your third or fourth bottle of Maratheftiko, one of the wines specially bottled for the place by a winery in Omodos. The names on the labels all mean something; one is named after Costas’ uncle, another after a region in Karpasia, near Rizokarpaso. Why? Because that’s where he’s from, and that’s the cuisine on offer at Koutsonikolias.
To be honest, it’s not massively different to the rest of Cyprus (I’m afraid we’re not quite big enough for regional cuisine), though the plump snails come charcoal-grilled on a skewer rather than cooked with tomatoes and onions. There’s a dish of goat meat that’s been left to dry for days then cooked over charcoal, leaving it crunchy and a little smoky. There were thin, luscious tips of wild asparagus the night we went, though that may change (it all depends on what’s in season). And there’s an amazing toasted bread with olive oil, slippery and spongy with a hard, satisfying crust. Ladle fresh, own-made yoghurt on top, add a little salad, a bite of meat on the side … Aahhh….
Getting there is easy: turn off the motorway going to Larnaca Airport, then look for a whitewashed building on the main street of the village. The place itself is just a single room, high-ceilinged, with gourds on a shelf and straight-backed village chairs; the door opens straight into the room, like a saloon in the Wild West (it’s a bit unnerving if you don’t expect it).
The décor seems eccentric when you notice a photo of some random body-builder on the wall – but it turns out he’s not random at all but a friend from Costas’ time in London, who unfortunately drowned in the Thames trying to save a girl (but gets his improbable tribute in a small village in Cyprus). Everything else no doubt has its own history, like the labels on the wine bottles. There’s a personal touch to Koutsonikolias, especially since chef and owner Costas makes a point of going from table to table, clinking glasses and making small talk.
He’s 35, friendly and confident, with a touch of the pirate; he doesn’t have a ponytail, but you feel he ought to. He’s also a man with a plan – big plans, in fact. An ouzeri opens next month, under the same roof as Koutsonikolias, serving oysters, cockles and other imported seafood.
Meanwhile there’s the option of a private room for parties, with a fireplace and your own personal waiter. Things are definitely cooking at Kalo Chorio: a good village is about to get even better.
Koutsonikolias, Tel: 24-361890, 99-651818. Dinner with a bottle of wine, around £20 for two.
