Zlatna Skoljka

My dear readers, Croatia is a wonderland. It makes perfect sense why the Romans made this their vacation spot. From the sparkling white marble city of Dubrovnik to the rough alleys of Split, it is something for everyone. I had many a food adventure, but the one noteworthy dinner during my travels was on Hvar Island.

Zlatna Skoljka, which translates to the Golden Shell, touts itself as a Slow Food establishment. I made a note to try this out, after sub-par meals recommended by others in Dubrovnik. We wandered only a few feet past the main square in town and found the entrance. I usually tense up at restaurants that are virtually empty, which was the case here, following that old notion that it equates to bad food. Not the case here! We were seated in the back patio with a couple celebrating their honeymoon after a wedding on the island of Lake Bled (not bad, not bad!). Overall, I think the four of us had the best meal in Hvar that evening.

I found the key to eating on the Croatian coast was focusing on seafood. They also take a cue from eastern European and Turkish cuisine, but I just can't get on board with heavy, artery-clogging dishes. Don't get me wrong...I can get down with the best of them, but I do that in the right places (see upcoming Berlin write-up), not in a fishing village.

Our evening at Zlatna Skoljka started with an octopus salad. At this point in the trip, I fancied myself a bit of an octopus salad connoisseur. You need the right amount of char, balanced with a steady dose of acid to really make this shine...and shine it did!

I then moved on to the goat cheese soup and let me just say, that soup and goat cheese are unlikely bedfellows....this is one of those situations where one would wake up in the morning and do a double take....and not in a good way! Yuck. The goat cheese kind of clumped a bit and every sip was painful. I left this one alone, but didn't have the heart to tell the server, who would relay it to the chef (who I could see by the way the entire evening...open kitchen) that I detested his soup.

Its ok, because next came the Mussels 'Buzara', which is a garlic, tomato, bread-type paste that is then cooked with either shrimp or mussels. A great 'Buzara' should be neither too thick or thin, but just the right consistency to "get stuck" inside each mussel, serving as a flavor complement to the mussel. It was a beautiful thing, this 'Buzara' and Dave and I sucked it all down.

Lastly, came the main affair....Amberjack in a saffron sauce and Squid in a wild orange sauce. Both were truly beautiful. The firm meat on the Amberjack filet somehow soaked up the rich, aromatic saffron sauce....each bite had a heady golden aroma. The squid was again perfectly charred. Each piece was delicate enough for fork only and further benefited from the accompanying tart orange sauce. I must say I wanted to steal both of these sauces to add to my fish repertoire.

We didn't make it to dessert and in retrospect I'm sad. Instead we hauled ourselves halfway back to the apartment and broke down for sub-par gelato. I guess the beautiful blue azure waters made up for the failed sweet;)

Coming soon....Venitian Chicchetti!

Restaurante Cunini

So after a few glorious days in Barcelona I hopped a Spanair flight (circa 1987 plane...my knees were literally locked into the seat pocket in front of me and cold air blowing on my feet) to Granada. Heading from the Catalan capital to the heart of Andalucia was definitely a change, but all I can say is wowo! Aside from amazing FREE TAPAS (the people of Granada pride themselves on this...calling the rest of Spanairds cheapskates) Granada is breathtaking. It is in a valley that snakes up and around the surrounding hills with the majestic Alhambra towering over it all from the highest perch.

The first night I arrived I was worried I was going to have to scrap my plans to visit Restaurante Cunini for the next night because I set up a special Flamenco booking that ruined my food plans. Somehow, the food gods intervened, because I left my hostel the first night to wander the streets without my guide and let my nose guide me. Well, it led me directly to the Plaza de la Pescaderia where the twinkling lights of Cunini called my name. I really couldn't believe it because I had taken such a round-about way to get there. Clearly, it was meant to be that I eat at this place.

I did not eat in the dining room, opting for the more casual vibe at the tapas bar. Let me warn you Americans or other travelers not used to standing while eating....this is the only option, but you will be rewarded with amazing food at even better prices. This place had a really cool, local vibe with a bit of a 50's flashback...all waiters (no ladies) in vests and bow ties. This is another English language barrier spot, so I really recommend having a small dictionary or come in ready to point and mime your order.

Another tip along the food line is to go slooow. I made the mistake of ordering about three things at once and then noticed that I would get free plates of whatever would be rotating out of the kitchen. This happened about once every 20 minutes so the best bet is order one item, wait and get two other free things in the interim.

I started with the infamous Gambas a la Plancha. If you have not been to Spain, then I think it is less than likely that you have had the pleasure of tasting the most sweet and juicy prawn of your life. This is achieved by leaving the shell on, slathering the prawn with a ton of oil and salt and a quick grill job. You, the eater, are then required to peel that shell off and savor the magic inside. I had already enjoyed a seafood platter at Kiosko Universal in the Boqueria Market in Barcelona, but Cunini killed.

I then had fried Hake filets that came gratis out of the kitchen. These were light meaty joys with a perfectly balanced salt-kissed crust.

I noticed that Cunini was touting Jamon Iberico Cinco Jotas, which for all of the uninitiated is the Rolls Royce of Spanish ham. This is the acorn fed, free range, etc. etc. variety. Anywho, once you put a piece of this in your mouth you taste a "meaty fat explosion." It is hard to adequately describe the perfect combination of complex, gamey pig with the supple, melting fat that accompanies each bite, but trust me, if you see this on the menu in Spain you should order it at least once, or twice. After awhile, however, David and I were so overwhelmed by Jamon that we stayed away all together. We surprised many Madrilenos by refusing to order Jamon Iberico at any of the restaurants we dined at during our last outpost before jetting off to Paris.

I then found a plate of Boquerones fritos in front of me. Boquerones are anchovies and in Spain you will find them in fried, grilled and "marinated" form. I must say I tend towards the marinated camp, but these little fried nuggets were a happy union of salt, crispy batter, and acid from a sprinkling of lemon.

Lastly, I had another "free" plate of what seemed to be a fried cousin of the squid. It had short, stumpy tentacles, but unfortunately, it suffered from a timing issue because it tasted cold and the squid itself was too tough...probably would have shined with a short grill job and a slathering of local olive oil.

Aside from some mis-steps, Cunini proved to be a solid seafood contender and a very welcoming opening night to a wonderful side trip to Granada....a must see in my book.