It is a very warm summer evening in July on the island of Spetses, and we decided to stop by The Poseidonion Hotel, where they have a restaurant dedicated to sea-front dining. It is called ‘On The Veranda.’ The restaurant calls itself a multiple award-winning restaurant, boasting that this will be your ‘once-in-a-lifetime’ dining experience. Pretty strong opinions! One thing that is obvious is the blend of food and setting: sunset views and the surroundings always manage to enhance the night, but of course, you cannot rely on this alone. I am always here to talk first about the food, to save you from sitting in a lovely place yet having to deal with a bad meal. You could have stayed at home instead and cooked (or had someone else cook for you!). Some of you might not care and favour views, weather, and experience over the cuisine (in that case, you can stop reading immediately).
For all of you still with me, I am pleased to tell you that both the views and food do go hand in hand; one does not overshadow the other. I know how frustrating it can be when you find somewhere with an amazing atmosphere and surroundings, but the food is just terrible—awful, even! There have been a few times I have gone home unwell from restaurants with beautiful scenery. You can do all the research and planning you can, but still, you can never be one hundred percent sure what is going to happen until you get there…
Let’s dive into the food. The menu is small, as it should be—avoiding the use of a freezer. Whenever I see the word Gigantes, my mind is already made up; I must have the beans—so that’s what I chose for my starter. The sauce had been reduced to a satisfying richness of tomato. The colour was a blood red, almost reminding me of a bolognese cooked for hours. There was texture added with some crunch from the crispy celery leaves, so it wasn’t all entirely the same throughout. The celery root purée was smooth, adding variety to the plate; they tried to make a traditional Greek dish more presentable and refined. Was the sauce taken too far, though? Nevertheless, it tasted delicious and detailed. I ate the whole thing rapidly (I was hungry), and the oil on the plate brought another layer of flavour. I’ve never had gigantes like this before.
For the lamb, it says they are French cut, but if my butchery training doesn’t deceive me, they were not all properly French trimmed, and the lamb needed to be cooked for longer—it was chewy. I found myself eating around them, trying to get a part that was tender, but they did taste nice, which was frustrating and, at the same time, a shame—I just found them hard to navigate. The sauces were punchy, the flavour was present, and it’s clear to me at this point that the chef can cook.
I often write in my stories that the pastry section is weak, or, conversely, that the pastry section is strong and the cuisine isn’t. It is important that both sections are at the same level! Unfortunately, the chocolate bar was lacking that little bit of ability. The sorbet needed depth of flavour; it tasted watered down. The bar was too big and bulky, and nobody cares for the chocolate shards on the outside—they were not needed. It isn’t the most complex ‘chocolate bar.’ It just held a mousse-like centre with another minimal texture for contrast. I also found the bar itself too thick. However, despite me picking at these finer details, I had a good night—and that is what matters. Yes, there were some things that were not quite right, but it doesn’t mean this was a disastrous evening. The whole experience combined means I will come back. Take your aperitif and watch the sunset from your table, add some decent food and great company, and you are all set to go. Enjoy it.
