Eating in Lefkara: nothing bad, just a little flat

There’s something about a public holiday that makes you want to wander. We’d gone up to Lefkara village to stay the night, and the afternoon was perfect for a stroll. Shops were open, people drifted in and out of cafés, there was that lazy hum of life that villages do so well. We thought, this is promising, plenty of places to choose from for dinner later. But as evening arrived, that gentle bustle disappeared. One by one, the cafés and restaurants pulled their shutters down. The same streets that had felt lively a few hours earlier had turned into a ghost town.

Fortunately, the restaurant at our hotel, House 1923 Tavern, was still open. It felt like fate, or at least good timing. We took it as a sign and decided that dinner there would be the plan.

The first thing we noticed on stepping inside was the brightness. The lights were just a touch too harsh, so we found a table off to the side where they wouldn’t shine so brightly. Once our eyes had adjusted, we were able to appreciate the beautiful stone arches that had been beautifully restored to their former glory. A friendly waitress greeted us and mentioned that the menus were already on the table. We’d already spotted them and were halfway through reading when she brought over the wine list; printed on slightly worn A4 sheets that had seen better days. Not the most polished start, but we carried on with good spirits.

The food menu isn’t too extensive, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing. There’s a good mix of grilled staples such as lamb chops, pork chops, kebabs, and a few traditional dishes. What caught our attention were the small plates. Rather than each ordering a main, we decided to share a selection of these and one main dish so we could try a bit of everything.

We began building our list: kefalotiri saganaki, always a favourite, followed by halloumi (it didn’t feel right to skip that in a village taverna). Something called “pougiourtin” caught our eye, we weren’t sure what it was but decided to take a chance. We added kolokythokeftedes (fried courgette balls) and pastourmas with eggs, which sounded hearty enough. For the main, we debated between a smoked beef neck with lemon pepper sauce and one of the casseroles. The waitress advised that the beef portion was on the small side and might not be satisfying if we were hungry. Taking her word for it, we went for the moussaka instead.

To drink, we decided to go local – a carafe of village wine, just to keep the experience authentic. We weren’t expecting anything remarkable but thought it would fit the setting. The illusion of rustic charm faded slightly when we watched the waitress pour it straight from a tap. Still, we laughed it off and hoped the food would lift the mood.

And in fairness, the plates started arriving quickly. We were hungry and ready for it. The kefalotiri saganaki came out first, alongside deep-fried halloumi coated in sesame seeds. The halloumi was advertised with queens’ marmalade, the saganaki with sweet pepper marmalade, though both were clearly the same. No harm done though, the marmalade was pleasant enough and worked with both cheeses. The saganaki itself, however, wasn’t what we’d hoped for. The hard, crisp, outer shell should have been piping hot if it had come straight from the frier, with melting cheese inside, but ours was lukewarm and firm. The halloumi fared better: nicely fried, a touch nutty from the sesame, and generally very tasty, even if not hot.

The pougiourtin turned out to be baked feta with onions. Simple, mildly flavoured, pleasant but unremarkable. The courgette balls were not particularly warm which made the taste of the oil they had been fried in really stand out. If they’d come straight from the fryer, they’d have been much better. The pastourmas with eggs was the same story: perfectly fine but lacking the spice and richness in the pastourmas we’d expected. The flavours felt muted, almost as though everything had been cooked in advance and kept warm.

Then came the moussaka. The dish it arrived in was so hot you could barely touch it. Steam rose as the spoon went in, but oddly, the centre wasn’t nearly as hot as we expected. It was warm and comforting, the kind of temperature where you could eat it straight away, but the contrast between the blistering hot dish and the just-warmed-through filling was a little strange. Still, the flavours were there, and the bechamel not sickly like it can sometimes be.

By the end of the meal, we agreed that while our stay at the hotel had been wonderful, dinner at House 1923 Tavern hadn’t quite matched it. Nothing was bad, just a little flat. Perhaps the grill section would have told a different story. The chops and kebabs that passed by to other tables looked pretty good. If we find ourselves there again and everything else in the village is shut, that’s probably what I’d order next time.

VITAL STATISTICS
SPECIALTY: Traditional Cypriot
WHERE: 7 Giannou Kranidioti, Pano Lefkara
WHEN: Monday, Wednesday – Saturday 1pm – 9pm. Sunday 1pm – 5pm
CONTACT: 24 343449
HOW MUCH: Small sharing dishes €6.50-€9.00. Moussakas €14