Hungry onlookers let their eyes linger on bubbling pans of moussaka and platters of stuffed grape leaves shaped like tiny cigars. I shuffled past them, drawn to the piles of glistening olives and a tantalizing display of baklava, the golden cubes stacked into a pyramid. The scent of roasted chicken suddenly tugged me in a different direction. I felt the magnetic pull of a man making gyros, shaving slices of meat off the spit, tucking them into fluffy pita bread and topping it off with a drizzle of tzatziki sauce.
It probably sounds like I was navigating the stalls of a sprawling Greek food market. Close, but no. I was on a well-appointed cruise ship, floating around the Aegean Sea. My niece, Sara, and I were among 1,250 passengers ping-ponging between Greece and Turkey aboard Oceania Cruises’ Riviera. For two back-to-back evenings during our ten-day voyage, the ship’s Terrace Café hosted a Chef’s Market Dinner, featuring an extensive menu built around the location of the cruise.
“When you sail in a country, you of course want to eat that food,” said Alexis Quaretti, executive culinary director for Oceania, which boasts an average of one chef for every ten guests.
“It’s exciting for us, too, to do different cuisines,” the French chef said. “We have more than 30 of these Chef’s Market Dinners, from Japan and Polynesia to Germany and Spain. Greece, well … this one is always popular.”
Before we landed in Athens and boarded the recently refurbished Riviera, 19-year-old Sara had never been to this part of the world — a region famed for its ancient ruins, Instagram-friendly resorts, beaches lapped by lapiz-blue waters, and food. Food made with the Mediterranean’s enviable pantry of fresh produce, aromatic spices, seafood, olive oil, honey. Dishes that run the gamut from a simple Greek salad to the labor-intensive flavor bombs that are Turkish dumplings, or manti. Sara and I were eager to dig in, both on and off the ship.
Our first shore excursion took us to Santorini, where we were low-key relieved to say goodbye to the throngs of summer tourists packing the picturesque, cliffside village of Oia. A small group of us headed to the other side of the volcanic island for a tour, tasting, and lunch at the acclaimed Boutari Winery. The drive took us past Santorini’s distinctive-looking vineyards where circular vines hover close to the parched ground. Here, vines are pruned in the shape of a wreath, protecting the fruit growing inside from Santorini’s relentless sun and wind.
“I’m glad the drinking age in Greece is 18,” quipped Sara, sipping a crisp white — made from the island’s indigenous assyrtiko grapes and tucking into a plate of lemony potatoes and tomato fritters.
Another shore excursion led us to the tiny Turkish village of Kirazli, not too far from the bustling resort town of Kusadasi and the world-renowned ruins of Ephesus. Our private bus pulled over at a roadside stand, where a smiling couple behind the booth handed us free slices of watermelon. I handed them the equivalent of $7 for a couple jars of homemade fig and apricot preserves. We spent the bulk of that afternoon in the garden of a laid-back, boutique hotel in Kirazli where we were invited to help stuff manti, aka Turkish ravioli, and roll grape leaves around a filling of rice, tomato, and cinnamon (sounds weird, tastes good).
With the village mosque’s tall minaret in the background, we lingered at a long table in the shade, passing endless plates of meze, zucchini pancakes, carrot and yogurt dip, spicy shakshuka, and crunchy sea beans harvested from salt marshes. Round two called for hearty beef meatballs, or kofta, and bowls of delicate manti. Dessert was a mercifully simple affair: more watermelon.
Not all of our shore excursions revolved around food. One hot day in Rhodes, Sara and I opted for an invigorating kayak trip. In Turkey, we joined eight of our fellow passengers for an intimate sail around Bodrum aboard a Turkish gulet, periodically hopping off the traditional wooden yacht for a dip in the turquoise Aegean. And not all of our food revolved around Greece and Turkey. Riviera’s edible options span the globe, much like Oceania’s fleet of seven — soon to be eight — ships. Combined, they call on 600-plus ports in more than 100 countries.
Oceania recently rolled out an expansive sushi station for its nightly dinner service at the Terrace Café, which also features a new Indian menu offered once per cruise. (The butter chicken and dhal are big hits.)
In addition to the café and the more upscale Grand Dining Room, the ship has four specialty restaurants. Guests can — and we did — reserve a table at these Italian, French, pan-Asian, and American steakhouse concepts at no extra charge. (Jacques, the elegant French eatery, is named for celebrity chef Jacques Pépin, credited as the founding father of Oceania’s culinary program.)
Riviera and her slightly older sister vessel, Marina, built in 2011, turned out to be trendsetters on the culinary cruising front. They were the first cruise ships in the world to have onboard cooking schools. Passengers can sign up for a variety of two-hour sessions held in their high-tech culinary classrooms.
Classes during our voyage included “Pucker Up: Love & Lemons,” showing students how to use the tart fruit in Italian fare. Another option focused on Chinese and Thai dishes inspired by the ship’s Red Ginger specialty restaurant. I picked the “Greek Tonight” class. If I couldn’t take this tasty cuisine home with me, at least I could take some recipes and newfound knowledge. The instructor was Stephanie Hersh, a trained chef and longtime personal assistant to the late, great Julia Child.
In true Julia fashion, we drank wine and Greek brandy while Hersh showed us how to stuff kalamata figs and turn Greek yogurt into a simple, sweet dessert. We made a salad of watermelon and cherry tomatoes (again, sounds weird but tastes great), and gussied it up with crumbled feta cheese, basil, toasted pine nuts, and honey.
“I picked up this honey when we were in Crete,” Hersh said, smiling at the golden jar. She had a fan-girl moment with the feta, too. We all did. The soft, white cheese tasted sublime with a spoonful of sun-ripened tomatoes and juicy watermelon.
“The feta here is just different,” the New Jersey-born chef said. “It tends to be less salty. Less dry.”
After 16 years of working for a legend like Julia Child (her dream job), Hersh never pictured herself with a gig on a cruise ship. But she, like the rest of us, was happy to be here, sailing through the Aegean and eating our way through Greece and Turkey.
“I get to travel around the world, tasting food where it comes from, in its place of origin,” Hersh said. “That’s a dream job, too.”
Featured image courtesy of Oceania Cruises; Travel Curator may earn a commission from product or booking links on this page
