After our hike up what we thought was Karfi, we were very hungry. The oranges were very tasty, but somewhat insubstantial.

The guide book offered a few places to go eat, but I wanted to check out what was available before I committed to anything.

We parked in front of a house that belonged to an old widow that I could not resist taking a picture of.

Our walk around the town made it quite clear that the right place to eat was at Taverna Kronio.

A small tavern that had been in business since 1965. The current owner, pictured below,  was a local who had married a French woman which explained why the wait staff (husband and son) spoke perfect French and the menu was written in perfect French cursive.

When we arrived at the restaurant, I was very hungry and demanded to start ordering. His reaction was funny. He goes:

Sit down, relax, this is not a Mc. Donald’s. There is a pace to how you will eat here.

He started the menu with an aperitif offering ouzo. I told him that I was a designated driver, and he gave me a priceless reaction:

Spare me. Soon we will be like Denmark. One little drink will not hurt.

And so we ordered food, chastised for being in a rush, and told to drink and if we needed to wait for the alcohol to be digested to sit and wait because there was no rush.

Across the way from us was a Kafenion with a set of locals who were drinking their coffee. Their mustaches and their looks were quintessentially Cretan.

Their patience and willingness to take their time to drink their coffee did much to convince this hurried man that he should slow down.

The food was very tasty and very colorful. What I find most interesting in Crete is how vivid the food colors are. The stifado is very red. The yellows/green of the artichoke was very yellow/green. There is something to be said for organically grown produce.

As we were about to leave to head towards the cave where Zeus was supposedly born, the owner warned us to not go. He said, there is a cave, and there is a fee to park, a fee to enter, a fee to smile, a fee to exit, a fee to frown, and if the local bureaucrat smiles he made decide that your car is a fee. With that warning, we decided to turn around and head back to Xersonissos.