A Revelation

Upstairs is the Tzivaeri, but what's downstairs? The all-new Ston Afro ('on the foam, or surf'). You can't see from this shot, but it's right across the road from the sea.

As you probably know, Patmos is the island of the Revelation, or, in Greek - Apocalypse. When people use the word 'apocalyptic' these days, they usually refer to something catastrophic, but the basic mean of the word is simply, 'a revelation.' If you're up on that sort of thing, then you'll know that the apostle John was a prisoner on this island when he received the sixteen visions that make up the book of Revelation. I talked last year about this whole mythology that's built up around the so-called "Cave of the Apocalypse." I say mythology because that's precisely what it is. Beyond the Apostle's own account of the fact that he was here when he received the visions, we know little else. The 'cave' with the little nook where the orthodox tradition says he laid his head wasn't even discovered until the eleventh century. Still, when has historical fact ever interfered with good old religious tradition and subjective belief (and the propensity to want to profit from both), eh?

I only refer to John and the Revelation because I happen to be his namesake and, not long after we set foot here last week for the second time in our lives, I too had a revelation of sorts. No, don't worry, I'm not going to get all religious on you. I refer to the fact that (and you could have knocked me down with a feather), as we were walking past the building in the photograph above, one of the windows opened and a familiar voice called out...

"Yia sou Yianni!!"

If you'd care to take a peek at the post "An Unashamed Plug, plus Some Other Stuff", from September 2017, you'll see me photographed with Manoli, the chef at the excellent Odyssey Restaurant in Rhodes Old Town. At the beginning of last season I'd noticed his absence in the kitchen when Babis, the owner, told me that he'd moved on to pastures new. Thus, it was with some degree of sadness that I hadn't expected to be eating any of his excellent cuisine again. Manolis is a truly great chef. I don't want to make his head swell, as he may well read this, but facts are facts. A couple of years ago I ate at the Odyssey two or three times a week and, more often than not, Manolis would find a minute or two to come out and sit with me and chat. I'd take great delight in introducing him to diners who'd come on one of my excursions, because they one-and-all would agree about the quality of his cooking. 

It's not simply that Manolis cooks great food; it's that he truly delights in what he does. He loves getting the presentation just right. He loves taking traditional Greek cuisine and giving it an individual twist that makes you feel, as you eat it, that you've had a culinary craftsman prepare your meal.

After arriving on Patmos this time, we'd already walked right past the restaurant a few times every day, as one has to pass it to get from where we are staying to the port of Skala, where the central square is situated, as well as most of the tavernas where we'd eaten last year. When you walk past the "Ston Afro" you can get the impression that it's going to be expensive. That was one reason why we hadn't planned on giving it a try. Yet, as we walked past and I heard someone call my name, my first instinct was to tell myself, "There are lots of Yiannis around, so he probably isn't calling me." The place is beautifully presented, and tastefully decorated in lots of white, pale blue, grey and slate grey. Like I said, it looked pricey.

Although, as I said, I thought the call was most likely for someone else, I turned to look. Like I also said above, you could have knocked me down with a feather when I saw that the guy who'd opened the window and shouted at us was only Manolis, my favourite chef from Rhodes Old Town, now grinning at me larger than life from the dining area of the newly-opened Ston Afro restaurant. He's the new head chef at the newest restaurant on Patmos and he looked delighted to see me and the beloved passing by, both oblivious to his presence.

Crossing the road we exchanged bearhugs and double-kisses and Manolis explained briefly how he'd wound up here. Of course we had to promise to go along some time and sample his cuisine again, if only because one of his purée sauces is one of our favourite ever. It's one he makes using celery root and it's totally delicious. We both joked about getting a discount if we came, to which he replied that we needn't worry on that score, so the deal was done. So, after a few more nights we found the restaurant's Facebook page and I requested the menu, just so we could see what we'd be letting ourselves in for. 

We needn't have worried. Just like back at the Odyssey (where the food's still extremely good BTW), Gordon Ramsay-trained Manolis' brilliant creations are available at very reasonable prices. Once we'd read through the menu we decided that, apart from the odd fifty cents here and there, the menu's no more expensive than anywhere else, plus we knew that the food was going to be epic. So, a couple of nights ago we went along and received such a warm welcome that you'd have thought we were royalty.

My beloved opted for a vegetable risotto dish and I decided to have a swordfish steak, which arrived to my delight with a scoop of the celery-root purée. We were presented with a bottle of wine on the house and it turns out to be a wine (from the Muscat grape) which the multi-talented Manolis makes himself. It's already won some medals at wine festivals by the way. It's a (chilled) dry white with a really beautiful slightly strawberry aftertaste, fabulous. We preceded the main dishes with some bread made to Manoli's own recipe, which is somewhere between pitta and Ciabatta, which arrived warm. The bread was delicious dipped into a selection of dips that arrived on a sectioned plate, and we also tried a starter of cold octopus with cranberries and rocket. 

All in all, we had a truly memorable meal and were served by some wonderful, courteous people. Of course Manolis came out for a photo-call too...

I know, I sound like I'm gushing, but as a designer I'm impressed by the logo too! I think it's pitched exactly right.

The pink stuff is beetroot-and-yogurt-based BTW. The cream-coloured stuff is true taramasalata, which isn't naturally pink at all. It's only pink when you buy it usually because it's been coloured (often artificially). Taramasalata should be cream-coloured. I've never liked the pink stuff TBH, but this version was superb.

We could have stuffed ourselves on that bread alone and gone home happy.

By this time it was dark outside, but if you'd seen out of that window to my left, you'd have seen the lights twinkling on the surface of the Aegean Sea. Later in the season those windows will be opened up completely.

What a revelation, "of all the restaurants in all the world..." 

So, peeps, you can take my word for it if you like. But if I were you and I was planning a stay here on Patmos, I'd be sure to shove it on my 'to do' list right away - 'Eat at Ston Afro.'

Next post will be mainly a bunch of photos. Talk soon.