It felt like everyone I know traveled to Greece this summer. Friends chose Zakynthos, Crete, Naxos, Ikaria. I opted for Sifnos, one of the Cyclades’ most celebrated food destinations but still, thankfully, relatively under the radar internationally. Greece’s culinary culture can’t be grasped fully on any one island; across the Aegean, distinct growing conditions and cooking traditions have produced individual cuisines entirely their own. Sifnos just happens to have a particularly delicious reputation.
Our trip landed in the middle of August — peak tourist season in the Mediterranean — but it never felt cramped. And now that summer has come to a close, what crowds there were have thinned and temperatures are more forgiving, yet peak-season produce is still finding its way into dishes across the island. So now is an even better time to experience Sifnos.
Getting there means starting in Athens, where ferries come in and out of the port of Piraeus from all across the Aegean and Ionian seas. The 2.5-hour trip from Athens to Sifnos is a thrill — worthy of a few Dramamine tablets if you’re prone to seasickness — with incredible views of the islands you pass along the way. The Aegean really is a different shade of blue; it’s tempting to gaze into it from the deck the whole way.
When I travel, my priority is getting a real feel for a place. Given the choice between a beach club with lounge chairs or a rocky cove hiding a strip of sand, I’ll happily rock scramble towards the latter. An olive grove, a local cheesemaker? I’m there. I’ll shell out for a pricey tasting menu, too, but only if it’s thoughtfully rooted in its surroundings. Otherwise, I don’t need the pomp and circumstance. I’d rather idle away an afternoon fumbling through my practically nonexistent Greek at a local taverna over taramasalata and charcoal-grilled prawns.
Turns out, Sifnos was the perfect fit.
Ferry Snacks: Yorgos Souvlaki
Get to Piraeus with an hour or so to spare before your ferry boards and slip into Yorgos Souvlaki to provision. This is a special shop, really nothing more than a grill behind a counter perched on the corner of a side street that happens to be one of the last places serving bifteki-style souvlaki in pita the old-school way: without tzatziki. Around 1970, the tangy yogurt sauce, along with the addition of fries, became a ubiquitous accompaniment to the street snack. Here, the grilled beef patties and the pillowy pita warmed by their juices come with nothing more than a bit of fresh tomato, slivered onions, and a scattering of parsley. Order two per person.
After a few hours at sea, you’ll dock at your 28-square mile destination, and it’s best to make your way to the little village of Kastro. Lodging is limited to a handful of Airbnbs and a hotel or two, but staying here means you can park the car and forget about it, exploring this special corner of the island, which was once Sifnos’s ancient capital, on foot. Head to Loggia Wine Bar — literally the side of a cliff with amphith-style seating carved into it. Settle into the island over potatoes roasted on charcoal and paired with tarama aioli, or panzanella tossed not with hunks of bread but crumbled Sifnian anise cookies. Pair that with something you wouldn’t be able to find anywhere else — like an unfiltered red made from old-vine Mouchtaro grapes grown at high altitude in the Geraneia Mountains — from the extensive bottle list.
Wake to the sounds of crashing waves and the chitter of coastal falcons and head up into the tiny streets of Kastro to Diporto Shop, a beloved cafe that feels more like you’ve ambled into a family member’s kitchen. Grab a table in the shade and order a freddo cappuccino — Greece’s answer (and a better one) to an iced latte with cold foam. You’ll likely be served by one of the owners’ young sons, who can balance a tray full of coffees better than I ever could. Opt for the yogurt and fruit bowl. Crowned with heaps of sunflower seeds, dates, sliced apricots and banana, it’s certainly enough to sustain a hike down to the Church of the Seven Martyrs afterwards.
Head north to the village of Cheronissos. Between the rocky hills on either side where goats roam and graze, find a patch of sand or smooth rock and set up for the day. When you get hungry, it’s just a few steps to Ammoudia — exactly what you might picture if I told you to imagine a taverna on the edge of the beach in a tiny fishing village: wooden tables and chairs planted directly into the sand, close to the water’s edge. Order the revithada, a soul-soothing Sifnian speciality of stewed chickpeas in olive oil with onion and herbs. Families traditionally make revithada on Saturday before bringing their prepared pot to a communal oven where it will cook through the night ahead of the Sunday meal. Luckily, at Ammoudia you can get revithada any day of the week. Guaranteed to cure hangovers and jet lag. To order seafood, walk up to the case with your server and point to what intrigues you. He’ll weigh it, discuss how you want it cooked — which, in my opinion, should be over charcoal with lemon and olive oil and nothing else — and before you know it, you’ll have a beautiful Sifnian lobster or sea bream placed before you.
A visit to Sifnos is incomplete without dinner at Cantina. Chef Giorgos Samoilis is a local legend on this island (and throughout Greece), yet somehow, none of that has gone to his head. Known for his zero-waste approach and menus that are deeply connected to the local network of farmers and fishermen, he and his team create an experience at this little restaurant by the sea blessedly free of pretension in the food or the setting, even though, with the care and craft put into all of it, there certainly could be. Poached monk fish fillet comes in a delicate fig leaf sauce. Okra grilled over charcoal comes topped with pumpkin seeds and smoked red pepper. Mizithra ice cream is drizzled with local honey and scattered with a brown butter crumble made with yesterday’s bread.
Breakfast: Theodorou Pastry Shop
Sifnos is synonymous with pottery, but the island also has deep traditions around almond sweets. Head to the family-owned Theodorou Pastry Shop in Artemonas for almond confections like kourabiedes, delicate cookies made with almond flour and dusted in confectioner’s sugar, still made by hand as they have been for three generations. Continue south, stopping to browse if a ceramics studio happens to grab your eye, and head toward the little cove near the base of the island known as Faros. Continue past the first beach, Paralia Faros, and around the corner to the more secluded, much calmer Vlicho Beach where the shadows cast by wispy salt cedar trees and the cove’s perpetual breeze make the perfect conditions for a nap between dips.
For your midday meal, head to Pelicanos, the second restaurant from chef Giorgos Samoilis, with more of a beach bar vibe. Pelicanos is known for its crab and bottarga cacio e pepe with thick, chewy, bucatini-like noodles, but whatever the fresh aguachile on special happens to be, don’t skip it. Spend the rest of the afternoon on the beach. If you get restless or tired (somehow!) of swimming, there’s a little rocky hike that takes you up to the sweeping views surrounding Panagia Chrysopigi, a monastery dating back to the 1600s.
Finish up the day on the southside of the island in Platis Gialos, a buzzier seaside town with no shortage of shops and bars to dip into before dinner at Omega 3. Seafood lovers, especially those who gravitate toward the raw or cured, will feel as though they’ve died and gone to heaven. If sea urchin — usually served in pickled tomato water that tastes like some sort of elixir from the gods — happens to be on the menu, don’t blink. Same goes for whatever the ceviche happens to be; local sea bream, shrimp, or amberjack dotted with vibrant cilantro pesto make frequent appearances. Finishing dinner, you may find yourself wanting to take a quick dip in the water you’ve spent the entire meal looking out at. I did, and realized how fortunate I was to have spent almost every single meal this trip with the sea right there in front of me.
Where I want to go next time:
Say Cheers!, the bar in a van at the hotel Oniropagida, perched atop one of the highest points on the island, offers unmatchable sunset views and, from what I’ve heard, pretty good cocktails. Tsikali, the restaurant on the beach on the west coast of the island, is where many say they’ve had the best chickpeas of their life. I can’t believe I missed Kavos Sunrise, the Cuban rum bar with scrawlings on the wall that reminded me of El Batey Bar in San Juan, Puerto Rico. Next time!
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