Where to find a taste of Greece in London

Last time I visited Toronto, Canada, I stayed in Greektown, home to one of the largest Greek communities in North America. Several scenes from My Big Fat Greek Wedding were filmed here, and street signs are in Greek as well as English.

On the day I arrived, jetlagged and disorientated, I happened upon a restaurant that was so authentically Greek I imagined I could smell the pine trees and hear the soft chirp of crickets. A couple of elderly men sat drinking ouzo at the bar, and rather than being led to a table I was taken into the kitchen where Maria (reader, that was her name, what can I do?) was stirring various pots, including a green bean and tomato dish (fasolakia giaxni) and meatballs (soutzoukakia). On the side was a giant moussaka, and chicken souvlaki was ready to go on the grill. I ordered bitter greens, a giant Greek salad and some of that souvlaki. I was in heaven. The retsina tasted how those pine trees smell (a traditional method is to seal the bottles with pine resin) and by the time I got to the baklava, which was lighter than air and dripping with honey, I was ready to sleep off my jetlag.

During that trip I learned the difference between the food of mainland Greece, and that in the Greek side of Cyprus. I am embarrassed to say I used to conflate the two, but they are quite distinct. An abundance of olive oil, thyme, oregano, cinnamon, garlic, mint, dill and bay leaves characterises Greek food, as well as lemon juice or rind to season and garnish. Chicken is the most popular meat, and seafood is always on the menu. Any decent Greek kitchen offers taramosalata, made from cod roe, olive oil, lemon juice, grated onions and bread.

Mint, cumin, parsley and coriander seeds are the flavours of traditional Greek Cypriot cuisine. Meze is the mainstay of the kitchen, with smoked meats, such as lountza and pastourma, along with beetroot salad and halloumi. My favourite, only found in the most traditional, old-style Cypriot restaurants, is kolokouthkia me ta afta, or courgette with eggs.

Whilst Cypriot food is often heavily influenced by Middle Eastern flavours and techniques, mainland Greek food is the epitome of all things Mediterranean. I have recently discovered a restaurant ten minutes from my home that serves a modernised version of this ancient cuisine.

Kalimera is on a shabby bit of main road in the north London media-luvvie enclave of Crouch End. Kalimera means ‘good morning’ which is odd for a place that doesn’t open until dinner time. But all else is pretty much spot-on.

Life began for Kalimera in 2015 in Hoxton, east London, with a gourmet food truck which proved to be so popular there are now permanent sites in Paris and Lille. The owners are from Laconia, on the south-eastern side of the Peloponnese peninsula, as is their luscious, deep green olive oil. I took some home and drizzled it on everything, including vanilla ice cream. Speaking of which, a Kalimera desert is crispy kataifi (made with shredded filo dough), walnuts and sour cherries served with mastic ice cream. Mastic is resin from the tree of its name, and tastes a little like pine, or cedar. It was a revelation, and despite the freezing cold, I think about it in the dead of the night.

I went early (before 7 p.m. a set three-course meal is on offer for £19.50) and stayed late. I had a perfectly mixed negroni, with some Greek twist or other, while nibbling on a bowl of delicious black olives alongside some home-made breads dipped in that heavenly oil.

The menu is modern but with plenty of classics, and all cooked from scratch, the old-fashioned way. There is a beetroot taramasalata dotted with pumpkin seeds, prawn saganaki scented with ouzo, and an indulgent slab of the creamiest feta cheese, pan-fried in crispy filo, drizzled with chilli honey and served with a dollop of baba ganoush.  

There is, of course, a Greek salad, perfectly formed, and for the mains, souvlaki, kleftiko or moussaka, all presented beautifully and with crisp leaves on the side.

Greek wines used to get a bad press, or rather no press except for the ubiquitous retsina, but the list at Kalimera will tempt even the most cynical. Try a bottle of the white Cretian Vidiano at £35, or a carafe for a tenner less. Its herb and peach scent is just the ticket with pretty much everything on the menu. Reds go from light as a feather to full-throttle.

But wow, that ice cream. After I polished off my desert, helped down with a glass of sweet wine from Santorini, I tried the orange cake. I had absolutely no room for it, but the chef insisted, telling me it was his ‘mama’s recipe’ and that she would be mortally offended if I refused. I don’t want to disrespect anybody’s mother. All I will say is that one mouthful and I was suddenly on the deck of a sleepy taverna, overlooking the Aegean sea, warm sun on my face. I packed away my leftovers (I over-ordered on your behalf) and went out into the cold Crouch End air, imagining the sound of the crickets.

Kalimera, 43 Topsfield Parade, London N8 8PT; 020 8347 6667. Open Tuesday to Saturday for dinner.