What sort of Hungry are you?

The limiting power of menus

Main St, Platres. Cyprus

I spent the second half of the 1970’s living in the mountains of Cyprus, in the immediate aftermath of the war in 1974. we lived in the village of Platres, about halfway up Mount Olympos. It was a small village, popular in the summer for its climate as a relief from the heat on the coast. We loved it then and continue to today for its people and way of life.

In our early time there, just a few cafés and restaurants stayed open all year. One, in particular, became a favourite due to its style and its owner. Outside of the summer season, there was no menu. We would turn up, a bottle of wine would appear and after the compulsory asking after each other’s health and families would be the question: “what sort of hungry are you”. Once that had been narrowed down, Peter would go and find what he needed - often from the owners of other restaurants, and a long, slow, glorious meal would ensure. He was a talented chef, and the meal was collaborative - lots of conversation…