The title of this post is slightly misleading (not just because it is outrageous hyperbole); it could just as easily be called 101 ways to eat grilled squid, fried squid or anchovies. My friends and I were pleasantly surprised with the quality of food on the Dalmatian coast of Croatia, but one does have to be prepared to eat the same thing over and over … and over. Fortunately I am a big fan of seafood and five days was just long enough to feel we had sampled the best that Dubrovnik and the Elaphite islands had to offer, but not so long that we were chomping at the bit for more variety.
Our host in Dubrovnik, the ebullient Marko, was extremely helpful; a trait that was rather lacking in the service we received elsewhere. Marko runs the Apartments Lovrijenac and it seems it is his mission in life is to ensure that everyone he encounters experiences the best his fair city has to offer.
“I will do anything you want to make you happy holiday, that is what I am here for”
“We’re mostly interested in where to eat. We’d like to try something local and not too touristy”
“Ha ha! Everything is touristy in Croatia, but I can show you some good places for the locals and for the tourists”
His enthusiasm was infectious and we parted his company not only with four restaurant recommendations (helpfully pencilled in for us on a map of the city), but each wearing his exuberant grin and in a state of eager anticipation.
The first on our list was Lokanda Peskarija, just outside the city walls on the waterfront at Ribarnica Ponta. The food was not the best we had, but we did not yet have the benefit of hindsight so we weren’t disappointed. Indeed we returned on the last night of our trip, but this was more on account of the location than anything else.
The marinated anchovies were just as they should be: salty, slippery little morsels swimming in oil and vinegar, perfect draped over an end of crunchy bread.
Nonetheless, they only came in at number three out of the four portions we had in our five days on account of the fact that the others were served with more and better condiments. The octopus salad was also third best of four, but it was certainly good enough to convince us that it was worth ordering again and again … and then once more.
Lunch on Tuesday was at Buffet Kamenice in one of the central squares, Gunduliceva poljana. When Marko gave us the recommendation he dropped the word ‘buffet’, which was a blessing since I doubt we would have ventured there otherwise; the word ‘buffet’ for me conjures up images of greasy, grey meats and mushy vegetables wasting away under hot lamps, but there was not a bain marie in sight at Kamenice.
The oysters were the first we’d had and absolutely divine. Sadly, the wine did not compliment them, the first in a run of bad wines that was only remedied on our second last day.
The highlight of the meal was the local specialty, bouzzara, which seems to refer to seafood cooked in white wine with garlic, breadcrumbs, parsley and, in some cases, tomato. We ordered one with mussels and one with scampi, the latter being the most favoured.
The only disappointment was the squid ink risotto, which would have been better termed ‘squid ink rice’ since it was not made with aborio and was neither rich nor creamy, the essential qualities which make a good risotto so moreish. Nevertheless, it was a good vehicle for the leftover sauces.
This restaurant also warranted a second visit, but this time it was for the food; having enjoyed it so much the first time we were keen to see how their octopus salad shaped up against the rest (it came second) and I wanted to try the fried squid I had been forbidden on the first visit, “we had that last night”.
Our next destination was the island of Sipan, an hour from Dubrovnik by ferry, where we were to spend 2 nights. Sipan is four kilometres long and has only two villages, Sipanska Luka and Sudurad. Knowing this, we had prepared ourselves for the worst, but in fact the island turned out to be full of gastronomic delights; indeed some of the best dishes we consumed were on Sipan.
On our first night we dined in a small restaurant around the corner from our hotel in Sipanska Luka. It was there we had the winning anchovies which, as mentioned earlier, won on account of the condiments; tomatoes, capers, onions and loads of olive oil and vinegar. They were also interesting because they were not the white marinated anchovies usually served in this fashion; I was concerned that I would find salted anchovies too strong to enjoy alone, but their intensity was offset by the vinegar and capers .
Like the restaurant, the fish soup was simple and homely; bite sized morsels of flaky, white fish floating in a light broth, the fish so fresh the flesh practically disintegrated at the slightest touch.
As a result, I was somewhat disappointed with the whole seabass we had the following evening in a restaurant on the other side of the inlet. The fish was fresh, but in my opinion slightly overcooked. My friend disagreed, arguing that sea bass is a meaty fish, but there are many species. The Larousse Gastronomique describes the flesh of the European sea bass as both ‘fine’ and ‘delicate’ and I have certainly enjoyed these qualities on other occasions.
Even so, this restaurant did not disappoint. Our host, Gino was charismatic and entertaining and the starter of octopus cakes was fabulous; light and crisp on the outside with a meaty, almost sausage like flavour and consistency in the centre.
"So," you may be asking, "where was the best octopus salad?"
In Sudurad, in a charming little restaurant beside the castle. Packed full of tomatoes, onions and parsley, studded with capers and impeccably dressed, this truly was the winner by a mile.
In fact, every dish we had at this restaurant came out trumps. We were particularly taken with the preparation of the grilled squid, the legs removed, chopped and mixed with garlic and onion then stuffed back into the body before cooking. The seasoning was just right and the crispy fried potatoes provided a delightful contrast to the soft, tender flesh.
We weren’t brave enough to try the sea devil carpaccio, only venturing so far as to imagine what it might have been:
Had we known that at the time that this was a type of monkfish we might have been a little more adventurous.
Perhaps surprisingly though, the star of the show was the salad. It may not look much in the photo, but it was perfect in its simplicity; tomatoes, peppers and onions straight from the garden dressed in balsamic vinegar and olive oil. It was not on the menu, but we were the last in the restaurant that day so were lucky enough to be treated to the salad the family were having out the back.
Next stop, Kolocep, which we were told by one of the locals used to be a prosperous island with several villages, 17 churches and 3000 inhabitants. Nowadays, there are just two villages, Donje celo and Gornje celo and 120 inhabitants, most of whom vacate for the summer, returning in the colder months when the tourists have left.
Our experience of Kolocep was not so favourable gastronomically, but fortunately we were only there for one day. We enjoyed the grilled ‘sea fish’ and Dalmatian smoked ham we had for Thursday’s lunch, but sadly the memory was tainted by our disappointment with the grilled squid; it had not been cleaned or gutted and was full of sandy globs of squid ink.
Dinner at Villa Ruza that evening got off to a bad start, with a disasterous octopus salad and a “fish carpaccio” that actually turned out to be more anchovies, butterflied and served on a bed of rocket.
But all was put right when our veal ‘cooked under the bell’ arrived; this is a traditional method of slow cooking, where the meat of choice and vegetables – in this case aubergines, courgette, onions and potatoes – are cooked together on a metal plate, set over embers and covered with a large metal bell. It was divine, the onions and fat melting together and coating everything in a sticky caramelised glaze and each element taking on some of the characteristics of its neighbours.
Upon questioning our bashful, but obliging Istrian waiter about the wines, we were told that the mistake we had been making was in ordering the wrong grapes from an inferior region. Instead we must order a malvazija from Istria. Sure, he may have been biased, but it was the first good wine we’d had and from then on it was only Istrian wines for us.
On our last day we returned to the comfort and dependability of Marko’s recommendations. We started at 2pm and ate through till midnight, trialling a few dishes in each place, washed down with plenty of beer and malvazija.
As well as returning to the two seafood restaurants, we went to the Taj Mahal where Marko had told us that, despite the misleading title, we would be able to sample some 'domestic' (local) meat dishes. The stand out dish was the veal with cheese and mushrooms wrapped in puff pastry. I was fairly inebriated by then so all I can really remember is that it was consumed in about five seconds to a chorus of ‘YUM’!
Had I done any research before departing the UK, I might have known what to expect on arrival in Dubrovnik. As it was I was surprised and delighted by the quality of the food, as evidenced by this rather long testimonial. This quote from the Lonely Planet’s Eastern Europe, which I read on my return, sums my experience exactly:
Croatian cuisine is one of the high points of a visit. Don’t expect fancy sauces or elaborate presentation, although you can find them if you wish. It’s the quality of the ingredients that gives each dish a special flavour boost. Most of Croatia’s produce is home-grown and the fish is likely to come from local waters ... Whatever your budget it is hard to get a truly bad meal anywhere in Croatia.