raditional Cyprus Foods reflect a tapestry of cultures that have shaped this island nation over centuries. During eight days of exploring the island, I would discover a unique and delicious Mediterranean cuisine with influences from Greek, Turkish, Middle Eastern, and African gastronomy.
I landed in Cyprus on a warm October day. As I waited for my driver, my thoughts turned to food — it was lunchtime, and I hadn’t eaten since the previous evening. I would soon learn that Cyprus is the right place to arrive hungry.
I was embarking on a group tour and a week of outdoor adventure — our itinerary included hiking and cycling through forests in the Troodos Mountains and swimming and snorkeling in the sparkling Mediterranean.
And when we weren’t on an outdoor pursuit, we would be on a taste adventure, sampling a mosaic of Cypriot flavors and learning about the country’s culinary traditions. We would also meet some remarkable people committed to preserving the heritage of Cyprus gastronomy.
According to Tonia Buxton, the author of a Cyprus foods guide that was part of our welcome package, “Anything of any importance in Cyprus always happens around food!”
The Influence of Geography & History on Cyprus Cuisine
Over the centuries, Cyprus has been occupied by the French, the Romans and the Ottomans. It was also a British Colony until 1960. They still drive on the left side of the road and there’s the odd remnant of British culinary sensibility. The result of this turbulent past is a unique and delicious cuisine.
Today, the island is divided between the Republic of Cyprus, an EU member, and Turkish Northern Cyprus, although the latter is only recognized by Turkey. Attempts at reunification are ongoing.
Although Cyprus is part of the EU, this mountainous island, the Mediterranean’s third largest, is located only 70 miles from the coast of Turkey. Its location, at the crossroads of Europe, Asia, and Africa, has imparted a unique culinary influence and resulted in delicious foods which I was excited to try on my Cyprus vacation.
Cypriot Traditional Foods
• Cyprus Meze
• Carob
• Moussaka
• Cypriot Coffee
• Loukanika Village Sausages
• Halloumi Cheese
• Anari Cheese
• Cypriot Village Salad
• Stuffed Zucchini Blossoms
A Cyprus Meze
We began our trip in the historic village of Lefkara at an airy white-washed taverna called House 1923. Dinner started with what I understood to be “meze”—an array of flavorful dips, tahini, tzatziki, and hummus, along with olives and Cypriot bread. Meze is short for mezedes which means little delicacies.
That evening I learned that a “Cyprus meze” is not just nibbles at the start of a meal; it’s a highlight reel of Cyprus’s entire gastronomy. I lost count, but I will guess that 15 platters were passed at the table. A Cyprus meze can involve as many as 30 dishes apparently, and include meat, fish, or a mix of both. It’s a traditional way to gather around a meal and has been a part of Cypriot culture for centuries.
I was seated at dinner next to Dr. Nicoletta Paphitou, the Deputy Minister of Cyprus Tourism (our trip was arranged with the support of Cyprus Tourism.) I expressed my amazement at this introduction to Cypriot cuisine. She told me it was the bounty of fresh ingredients that made it so special and delicious. “It’s because of our soil and the sun, so we have very fresh products in Cyprus.”
Cyprus has more than 300 days of sunshine a year and very fertile land, so it produces a wide array of fruits, vegetables, legumes, olives, and animal products. The island’s culinary all-star, halloumi cheese, is made from goat’s and sheep’s milk, and pork, lamb, and chicken are prepared in endless inventive ways.
Of course, being surrounded by the sea provides a plethora of fish and seafood as well. I sampled red mullet and several other “new to me” fish during my time in Cyprus — all delicious. The one thing you will rarely find is beef, as cows aren’t commonly raised here. But you may be offered a taste of donkey’s milk.
At the end of the meze meal, I expressed regret at having overindulged. (I never did have lunch, so arrived at dinner with a hearty appetite.) Dr. Paphitou smiled and said, “Cypriots like to say you don’t have to worry about gaining weight because of the energy of the goddess Aphrodite.” That was welcome news and the first hint that Aphrodite was of great cultural importance here.
Carob – Cyprus Black Gold
We followed a winding path high into the Troodos Mountains and reached a rocky lookout with beautiful views in every direction. After a group photo, we began our descent through the scented pine forest. I admired the little villages scattered across the hillsides in the distance. Cyprus is known for its excellent hiking, thanks to its diverse landscape, and the October weather was ideal.
A picnic lunch followed the hike and we arrived at a conservation area called Mesa Potamos to find pretty tables set under a shady tree canopy.
Small glasses of commandaria were passed as a welcome. This ancient Cypriot dessert wine, the oldest named wine in the world, is still widely enjoyed and used in traditional celebrations. Its production is strictly controlled so only 14 villages in the country still produce it. I sipped the maroon liquid. It was sweet and full-bodied and tasted of raisins.
After the wine, our tour guide, Jerome Masselis, gathered us together and long brown seedpods were handed around from a small clay pot.
“Do you know what this is?” he asked. “It’s Carob also called black gold.”
(L/TOP) Carob Seed Pods (R/BOTTOM) Guide, Jerome Masselis ⓒ ATTA/Scott Adams
Jerome, who has a Ph.D. in History and Archeology, explained that Carob was known as black gold because it was once the island’s major export. (It was a widely used sweetener before sugar cane.) The carob tree is indigenous to Cyprus and has been cultivated for 4000 years. It remains a part of Cypriot culture with festivals and celebrations taking place around the fall harvest.
The carob had a leathery exterior and was warm from the grill. I took a bite and found it far more flavorful than its shriveled exterior suggested. It was lightly sweet with a pleasant chewy texture.
When the clay bowl was passed once more, I tucked a carob pod in my bag for later— it seemed like a handy portable snack to enjoy on our next adventure.
Carob syrup is also widely enjoyed in Cyprus and I sampled it several times. Like the pod, it has a sweet earthy flavor.
A Cyprus Picnic
The term “picnic” suggests a simple fare that does not do justice to the elaborate lunch that followed. Steam rose from rows of casseroles and meats, waiting at a hot station. And dips, pickled vegetables, olives, and salads had been set on the table.
Ruby red pomegranate seeds glistened atop one of the salads. I learned that this was thanks to: one, it being pomegranate season, and two, the goddess Aphrodite. According to ancient Greek mythology, Aphrodite was the first to plant a pomegranate tree on Cyprus, which is also the island of her birth. Aphrodite’s influence was found in so many ways in Cypriot culture that it felt at times like she was a real historic person.
Moussaka
The pomegranate salad was crisp, tangy and delicious, but it was the moussaka that had me returning for seconds. It was unlike any I had tasted; the eggplant and béchamel sauce had a silken texture and the meat gave it a perfect balance of savory and sweet.
I complimented the chef, Demetra Constantinou, and asked her what made it so exceptional. She seemed pleased by my question and talked about the ingredients. Then she added, “In Cyprus all recipes are your great-grandmom’s, your grandmom’s or mom’s. And never share the best family recipe.” I could understand wanting to keep something so special a family secret.
Fall was also the time when many of the moussaka ingredients were readily available; which explained why it was bursting with flavor.
Chef Constantinou graciously answered my many questions about traditional Cypriot cuisine and she said something that explained a lot: “In Cyprus, first you eat with your eyes.”
I thanked her for such a special lunch. I’d so enjoyed chatting with her and imagined staying in Cyprus to become her apprentice so I could learn how to create something so delicious as her family’s secret moussaka.
A Traditional Cypriot Brunch
There’s a time and place for ouzo and a Cypriot brunch seemed to be it. Brunch is known as mboukoma (boo-coma), and we had the chance to try it in the small village of Vavatsinia. Mr. Takis, the proprietor of Takis Vavatsinia welcomed us to his charming open-air taverna and passed the shots of ouzo from a wooden platter with holes to hold the glasses in place. This allowed him to serve our welcome drink with a flourish that might otherwise have sent the shots flying.
I swallowed the strong liquid (only made in Greece and Cyprus) and thought how enjoyable it was to experience something that’s of a place, in that place.
Cypriot Coffee
By the time Mr. Takis asked for my coffee order at brunch, I had been in Cyprus for several days so knew what was what. Cypriot coffee is strong, dark and aromatic, similar to a Turkish or Greek coffee. When you order it you must specify “sketo” (no sugar) “metrio” (one sugar) or “gliki” (so sugary it makes your mouth pucker). It’s heated with the sugar in a small pot called a briki and then served in a little demitasse cup with a whisper of creamy froth.
After ordering my first coffee “sketo” a few days earlier, it was “metrio” for me. I really enjoyed the small but mighty Cypriot coffees and appreciated that it could be ordered any time of the day. Cypriots seem a bit more relaxed about coffee-drinking customs than some other European cultures. A tip: leave a sip in the bottom to dodge a mouthful of coffee dredge.
In Cyprus, there’s breakfast and then there’s brunch. Mr Takis and his traditional village sausages
Loukanika – Cypriot Village Sausages
After coffee, came marinated olives infused with coriander, creamy anari cheese, tomato, cucumber and toasted bread seasoned with olive oil and oregano. The showstopper arrived a few minutes later — thick slices of crimson sausage atop a silver platter. A plate of fried eggs was served as well; apparently, these should be eaten together.
After tasting the sausage, several people, me included, asked Mr. Takis variations of the same question. ‘What is in that sausage and why is it so delicious?!’
It was loukanika he said, village sausage. “This is pork meat, and we put in salt and coriander for one day. Then the next day we add red wine. And we (refrigerate it) for ten days to two weeks. And after that, then we cook it,” he finished.
Making village sausage was a long, slow simmer for people (Cypriots) who know that the most delicious things in life are worth waiting for. The sausages went faster than Taylor Swift tickets and Mr. Takis seemed delighted by our enthusiasm for this special Cypriot dish.
I tried red wine-marinated pork several more times. Sometimes, the pork was served in pieces rather than as sausage. This version was called afelia and was one of my favorite Cyprus foods. I’ve never spent two weeks preparing any dish, but now I understand why you would.
Traditional Basketry & Cyprus Halloumi
I had eaten halloumi before visiting Cyprus but always grilled. In Cyprus, this versatile cheese (which defies melting thanks to its acidity) is prepared in endless ways. It was sliced into neat rectangles, covered in sesame seeds and fried to a golden brown. It was shaped into fingers, encrusted and baked. It was stuffed in ravioli or presented on platters alongside bits of sausages.
Although sometimes associated with Greece, halloumi originated in Cyprus and earned the EU’s Protected Designation of Origin (PDO) in 2021. The designation denotes that authentic halloumi can only be made in Cyprus. Traditionally it is made with sheep and goat’s milk, although a mellower version is also made with cow’s milk. Whether the latter is authentic halloumi seems to be a point of some debate in Cyprus at present.
One evening, we visited the quaint village of Choirokitia for dinner. The entrance to the restaurant was lined with colorful baskets made of water reed, also called pokalami. The proprietor, Nikolaou Petros, is one of the last remaining artisans to construct baskets in this traditional style. He is preserving this bit of Cyprus heritage in the Museum of Basketry, which adjoins his restaurant.
We had come to try our hand at basket making (not my forté it turns out) and to learn more about halloumi. Mr. Petros is also a chef and creates artisanal halloumi, using what else — baskets.
“Here all the cheese we make is traditional,” he said. The process begins with the help of the village goats and sheep which are milked by hand each day for the halloumi. The milk is then warmed to a precise temperature, and vegetable rennet is mixed in, thickening it to a yogurt-like texture.
He demonstrated the next step with a basket that fit in the palm of his hand. “We put the cheese in this traditional basket. We call it talarin (tal-a-ree). I make the baskets from water reeds, a special grass that grows in the water.”
There are endless variations of halloumi preparation in Cyprus
He pressed on the cheese so that the milky whey dripped out through the bottom of the basket. Then with a quick shake of the basket, the disk of cheese dropped into his hand. It was then returned to the whey to cook for another hour.
The resulting round of what he called “simple cheese” was placed on a platter where it was finished “the homemade way” — seasoned with a mixture of dry mint and sea salt. “You can leave it like that but here in my place, I like to give extra aroma with fresh mint.”
He covered it in a layer of bright green leaves and folded the round in half, the mint tucked inside. He took it to the kitchen to warm it before serving it to us as part of the elaborate Cypriot dinner that followed.
His herb-stuffed halloumi was delightful—light and creamy with a fragrant aroma of mint, and softer than many others we had tried. It’s hard to pick a favorite of this special Cypriot food, but I think this was it.
Dinner was followed by a traditional folk dancing show that we were invited to take part in; a fun way to get moving after all that delicious halloumi. It was also our bus driver’s birthday which meant cake was served and there was more singing and dancing. Cypriots seem to take any opportunity to sing and dance — one of the many things I appreciate about their culture.
Cypriot Village Salad
The traditional Cypriot taverna called Katoi is tucked down a winding cobblestone laneway in the village of Omodos. It would be easy to miss and that would be a shame. By lunchtime, the restaurant would be full of diners who know how good it is and where to find it. We had arrived earlier that morning for a cooking class with Katoi’s owner and chef, Mr. Panagiotis.
Many Cypriots share their heritage with Greeks yet they embrace the ways their culture and food are distinct. Chef Panagiotis told me that his cuisine is inspired by traditional Cyprus foods, “with modern touches. But I always use traditional flavors.”
He invited us to a room at the back of his restaurant where we would make two traditional Cyprus dishes: tzatziki (dried mint distinguishes it from the Greek variety) and an authentic Cypriot village salad. Chef Panagiotis explained that the latter was not a Greek salad, although similar in some ways.
First, it included lettuce and arugula (where Greek salad has no greens) and also a special herb. “This is a Cyprus village salad so we use coriander,” he said. “Cypriots love coriander.”
In addition to the typical Greek salad ingredients — cucumber, tomato, red onion, kalamata olives, and feta cheese — he thinly sliced a pale green Cyprus pepper and a bright radish and arranged them atop the salad.
“The dressing is the secret,” he said as he whisked it with enthusiasm. “It improves the taste of the vegetables and marries them together.” Both the wine vinegar and olive oil came from the village.
We tasted the tangy tzatziki and crisp salad and I was struck by how much more delicious food was when it was this fresh. Katoi is located in one of the oldest buildings in the village and it was a beautiful setting for the elaborate lunch that followed.
Breakfast in Cyprus
For the first five days of the trip, we stayed in the historic village of Lefkara, best known for its beautiful lacework. We were hosted for breakfast each morning at Coffee Shop Pieris, a quaint spot that shares a cobbled square with the Church of the Holy Cross, which dates to the 14th century.
The café is owned by the Raouna family who warmly welcomed us each morning with a typical Cypriot breakfast set out on a table on the terrace: toast, boiled eggs, fruit, tomato, sliced ham and a soft cheese known as anari. Anari is made from the whey produced when making halloumi. It’s mild and creamy, similar to ricotta but more firm.
Anari Cheese
Anari Cheese was perfect atop toast with some marmalade, which I enjoyed each morning along with the view of the pretty church. The Raouna family were wonderful hosts ensuring we had we needed and were well fueled for a day of adventure and exploring.
Anari cheese is also often used in desserts. One evening it was served topped with cinnamon and honey. Another it was stuffed inside little pastries called bourekia. They melted in my mouth and the cheese was fragrant with rose water. I could have eaten a dozen.
While halloumi often takes center stage, I found its more subtle counterpart simply delicious, and was fascinated that like halloumi it was incorporated into Cypriot cuisine in so many ways.
Cyprus offers wonderful cycling along its scenic coastline and in its mountains. We ventured to a wilderness area near Paphos “Stavros tis Psokas” where a fragrant forest of pines, oleanders and sycamores create a lush expanse of green to explore by bike. I was reminded how wonderful it is to explore on two wheels as we climbed up and coasted down. (More during the latter than the former.)
After 18 kilometers of scenic peddling, we arrived at a pretty seaside hotel called the Paradisos. We were seated on the terrace with an expansive view out over green hills that sloped down to the sea. As usual, we were presented with a varied meze to start.
Stuffed Zucchini Flowers – Athoi
Then something different appeared — a platter of little golden pouches. They were stuffed zucchini blossoms, known as athoi. I knew that there was a season for this special dish because I had had it in Italy. It can only be made when the blossoms are newly open — we had hit the culinary jackpot. They were almost too pretty for eating. Almost. Nestled inside the blossoms was a mixture of seasoned rice. The blossoms had a delicate flavor, a nice contrast to the texture and flavor of the filling.
A few days later, I had the chance to learn more about this special dish at lunch at the Hylation Tourist Village, a resort hotel near Limassol. Mrs. Marulou Vladimirou and her husband Vladimirous welcomed us to their hotel where an elaborate lunch buffet was set out on the restaurant’s terrace. When I paused to eat with my eyes first and noticed a platter of the colorful stuffed blossoms.
After lunch, I introduced myself to Mrs. Vladimirou and inquired about the “anthoi” blossoms saying how much I had enjoyed them. It turned out that making them had taken a village, literally.
“In the village we are all friends, neighbors, cousins, relatives. ” she said. “I called my friend and said please find for me some zucchini flowers. She said, I will try, it is difficult because it’s nearly off-season.”
Calls were made, the blossoms were located and then picked at dawn the morning of our visit. “I stuffed them at 6:30 am,” said Mrs. Vladimirou. Any later and they would have closed.
I also really enjoyed the halloumi, prepared yet another way; it was breaded and served with a tangy grape sauce, the perfect complement to the rich cheese. Mrs. Vladimirou told me the grape sauce had to be boiled off and on for three days. And despite the work involved, she said she made it often. “Because my son-in-law and my granddaughters, they love it!”
When I asked about the grapes she led me through a gate at the end of the terrace and down a few steps to a little vineyard. She said also used the vine leaves for making koupepia (similar to Greek dolmas). She said much of what they served came from their own property and the rest from the nearby village. No wonder it all tasted so exceptional.
With each meal I enjoyed in Cyprus, my appreciation grew for what went into preparing traditional Cypriot foods, and the passion of the growers and chefs.
Mrs. Vladimirou told me that this passion for food is also because it’s integral to family connection. “We are keeping the family close together, when we have a drink and we have good food. It’s because we were raised like that. It’s part of our tradition.” And it brings her young granddaughters into her kitchen. “They come from school and say, ‘Yaya what did you cook today? It smells so nice’.”
At our last dinner, I sat with our guide, Jerome Masselis. The conversation eventually turned to food, and when I asked if he liked to cook, he told me about his moussaka. I took it as a compliment that he shared the secret of his recipe and why, of course, his was the best. Sorry, some culinary secrets remain in Cyprus.
Jerome had led us on an active exploration of his island home. We had hiked the Aphrodite Trail, one of the most scenic hikes I have ever done. We’d floated atop an azure sea in the Cyprus Blue Lagoon, and we had snorkeled to see the remarkable underwater sculptures at the Musan Museum in the seaside area of Ayia Napa.
We had also toured ancient ruins which Jerome brought to life with his remarkable depth of knowledge. But I think it was his immense appreciation for his country that made him such a wonderful host and guide. I felt that wherever we went. Cypriots love to share the ways their country, culture and food are so special.
When our group said goodbye to Cyprus, Jerome was awaiting an extra-special arrival. His wife was due to have their first baby any day.
About a week later, we heard that baby Achilleas had arrived. And a few months after that, Jerome shared a photo in our group chat — the baby was tucked into a carrier on his chest, and he stood on a trail amidst the rolling Cyprus hills. Of course, on this sunniest of islands, there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. I imagined the many adventures ahead for little Achilleas on his island home — a lifetime of warm Mediterranean breezes, dancing and halloumi.