Restaurant review: RADA, Paros – none of the drama with all of the taste

Thanks to a friend whose first love is Paros (and second home the same), I’ve been enjoying this Greek island for about seven years now.

In Naoussa, the restaurants and bars continue to evolve with mainstays and newcomers sitting side by side, capturing the attention of residents, regular visitors and travellers alike.

As the centre continues to live its best life as an aesthetically- pleasing hub of cocktail bars, restaurants and bohemian boutiques aplenty, my eye was caught this year by a beach-side (relative) newcomer.

RADA restaurant ‘boasts traditional Mediterranean dishes and modern fusion food’, with a menu by Greek chef, Gikas Xenakis.

The website challenges you to

Experience a redefinition of Cycladic gastronomy

and also promises

A space to be enjoyed.

Well full marks on both, I say.

Enjoying a play on words and seemingly unable to bypass a pun, I also say ‘RADA – with none of the drama but all of the taste’ (you can have that one on me)…

Whilst intrigued by a menu which promised an imaginative series of dishes which did indeed appear to marry traditional local flavours with a fresh and innovative approach, I was there for the sunset and promise of an intimate dining experience.

My heart was won by the latter before a mere morsel had passed my lips.

Approaching the restaurant via a quiet lane with the ocean to your left, you cross the sandy gardens via a decked path, to find a series of tables and sofas amongst the trees and foliage.

Booked in for dinner at 8pm, we’d timed our experience to take us from the close of another gloriously hot day into the setting of the sun at 8.44pm (to be ridiculously precise).

Our table gave us the perfect vantage point to enjoy the ever changing palette of colours as the sun descended amidst its beach setting, casting shadows and silhouettes of boats in the distance, botany in the foreground.

It was as though the chef had not only designed a menu that took you on a gastronomic journey with every course, but delivered a different backdrop for each.

The menu is divided into Raw, Mezze, Greens, Fire and Sweet, and fairly easy to navigate. The overexcitable heathens that we are, we’d already spent time pouring over it online to decide what we’d like but there are plenty of lovely and attentive servers on hand to assist and guide you through.

We basked in the golden hour of the fading light as we enjoyed pre-dinner cocktails- Watermelon Mule and a Melon Tommy, – accompanied by a basket of warm toasted bread, with olives.

Close behind came our starters of Squid – battered squid with beetroot marmalade, fish roe cream with squid ink & fennel; and Mussels – steamed mussels, saffron & fresh cilantro .

Both delicately flavoured – size isn’t everything but the mussels were the largest we’d enjoyed and the saffron brought a really pleasing flavour to the plentiful dish. The squid was lightly battered, again plentiful and tastefully presented.

As the light continued to cast everything in the best Instagram filter you could imagine, our appetites were technically satisfied before the wine was opened. But our eyes thanked us as the mains were brought to the table.

Natural light waning by this point, table lamp on, the main dishes arrived and any thoughts of full tummies cast off.

We each chose a chicken dish – Paccheri
with chicken, sage & crispy bacon, was thick tubular pasta and, with the addition of carrot, the flavours of which took me straight back to Sunday lunches with my grandparents.

Be without doubt that this is a compliment – comforting, nostalgic but innovative and delivered in a way I’d never experienced.

My husband chose the chicken breast with corn, mushrooms & sauce from ‘gruyere cheese of Naxos’. What’s mine is his but, more importantly, what’s his is mine and I took it upon myself to make sure his tasted good too. It did – that sauce – forgive the vulgarity but I could have drunk a bowlful. Flavoursome but not overpowering. Creamy but not rich. The ingredients classic, the execution contemporary and stylish.

And yes we took one for the team – one pudding, two spoons,

It was somewhat a Snickers, Jim, but certainly NOT as you’d know it – Chocolate – Caramel
bitter chocolate cremeux with monte peanut
and salty caramel ice cream

The wine, a Greek Pinot Noir, was light and professionally served (with an offer to sniff the cork, taste the wine) and poured at appropriate intervals.

So, whilst literally and gastronomically speaking this was indeed a ‘winner winner, chicken dinner x 2’, I want to leave the final word to the setting and ambience.

With the sun setting, the ocean crashing, this lovely, tranquil, ambient, intimate, romantic and relaxed little area of sand and decking is one of those places that takes you out of your own head and into a little piece of heaven on earth. If only for the time it takes to eat a really good meal, and drink a great bottle of wine.

RADA – Paros

I went to Greece during a pandemic…

and all I got was this lousy sense of freedom, peace and perspective.

I’m not going into the ins and outs of what’s going on. It’s 24/7, wall to wall, wraparound news.

Like most (lucky enough to have a holiday booked this summer), flights got cancelled, vouchers were provided, numbers were ringing out, alt numbers found, corridors opened, closed, opened and October arrived.

This is not a sob story, it’s not a success story. It’s just a story written of 10 days hiding out from Covid Britain.

Granted it’s Covid Greece. It’s even Covid Greek Island without any documented Covid cases. But you don’t get one without precautions so the usual prevailed.

There’s no moral to this story. Some might argue there’s no point (or indeed punchline).

It’s just an experience of taking two planes there, two back and a whole lot of mask wearing . And given I don’t have to wear PPE to save lives, and just a regular mask, it’s a warm, muggy experience at worst.

I’m lucky. I got a holiday to reschedule in the first place and a family and friends to not see in the first place.

So this is not a sob story, it’s just a telling of taking steps out into the world, the restrictions faced and the freedom found. For 10 days.

I wondered whether I had a right to write about anything with a Covid context – anything other than personal loss feels trite, unimportant.

So it’s not a tale with anything other than a short account of how I felt safe and if you too feel you need to enter into the world (and in a position where the risks are hopefully a little less), follow the rules and enjoy the freedom.

An Uber to the airport – mutual mask wearing, screen fitted, star rated (always ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ – and that one driver who got me down to a 4.91, I know who you are, my map reading skills are woeful, I just couldn’t find you). All good, frequently used since O lockdown lifted.

Manchester Airport. I don’t need Covid restrictions to throw me out of kilter – security does this every single time. This time it was an errant lip balm that caused carnage.

For those who usually sail through the process without drama, keep the facemask on, social distance as per, make sure you’ve filled in the Passenger Locator Form which may, or may not, be looked at. It’s just another thing to check every 40 seconds in life along with your passport, boarding passes and phone.

The plane. I’m never best pleased when flying anyway. Just keep that mask on when not eating and drinking. Literally it. Oh and don’t queue more than two deep for the loo. That’s also it. Literally. And sanitisation wipes.

There’s no social distancing in the seating so as with everything in this pandemic (and indeed life), it’s your choice whether this is for you and what your bottom line is. Right or wrong, my mental health benefitted from being on that plane and with everyone masked up, it was my bag.

My destination brought me indoor mask wearing, hand santisers aplenty, but a whole lot of outdoor living.

The island quiet, the accommodation a private house, this living was easy. But more importantly, Covid commentary free. No aforementioned wall to wall reports and rhetoric, political or otherwise.

Full disclosure – this didn’t stop my partner and I filling in the gaps with our own. Traditionally holidays are when you take stock, make plans, discuss the future. I challenge to do any of this without uttering the C word (plus we were highly engaged and invested with our local mayor taking on the government in our absence).

One good thing – it did give me opportunity to make a dated 80s joke with my Fears for Tiers joke. It didn’t land as well as I’d hoped to be honest but you can’t win ‘em all.

End of season, and not touristy, it was mostly us and the locals. Our 5th visit, we felt more we were living there for 10 days, less ‘holidaying’ and so joined everyone in just…well just doing ‘stuff’.

This is not a sob story, just an account of 10 days away from Covid Britain. A lot of that stuff we did was a whole lot of nothing. A different kind of nothing from the nothing we’d come from and were likely going back to. But a quieter nothing. A lucky nothing.

And so back home, nothing had changed. Well we get upped to high level within hours of touching down, but nothing had changed. Except for a while we were in control and grabbing freedom, if only for a short while. All within the rules and regs.

And it might be worth bearing in mind, if you’re lucky enough to feel physically able. Grab the freedoms where you can find them, follow the rules and…this is not a sob story. Just gratitude to all the industries and people both at home and abroad who are keeping us safe.

If you feel physically well and you can, put your mask on, scan the track and trace QR code, sanitise, socially distance, go out for dinner, to the supermarket, for a walk on the prom, to the pictures, to see your friend in a park.

To Greece for crying out loud.

The mask is not stifling us, it’s the key to freedom, potentially for a while to come.

Also turn the TV off (unless it’s Netflix and American Horror Story, bloody brilliant it is.

Also Stath Lets Flats

Or Channel 4 news).

Live safely, follow the rules but live. And don’t be daft with it for God’s sake.