Menu names change every few hundred kilometres, and the same dish turns up under two names while two different dishes share one. This glossary is the working vocabulary I carry into rooms from the Aegean to the Maghreb: the word, what is actually in it, and how the plate should taste when the kitchen is doing its job.
Cold plates and dips
- Tzatziki. Thick yoghurt, grated cucumber, garlic and olive oil. It should hold its shape on the bread rather than run.
- Labneh. Strained yoghurt with olive oil pooled on top, saltier and denser than tzatziki, served as a plate rather than a spoonful.
- Hummus. Chickpeas blended with tahini and lemon, best when the kitchen made it that morning and finished it with oil at the pass.
- Muhammara. Roasted red pepper and walnut with a little chilli, sweeter than it looks and slightly rough on purpose.
- Melitzanosalata. Smoked aubergine, rough rather than smooth, with a sharp edge of lemon at the end.
- Taramosalata. Fish roe whipped with oil. Pale versions taste better than the dyed pink ones.
- Fava. Yellow split pea puree, served cold with onion and capers, wherever Aegean cooking has travelled.
Hot small plates
- Dolmades. Vine leaves rolled around rice and herbs, plain or in a lemon sauce; the same roll is called sarma further east.
- Saganaki. Cheese fried in a small pan until the outside sets, eaten hot with a squeeze of lemon.
- Borek. Thin pastry layered with cheese, spinach or mince, cut into diamonds and often served at room temperature.
- Falafel. Fried chickpea or fava bean balls, crisp outside and green inside when the herbs are fresh.
- Kofte. Seasoned meat pressed onto a skewer. Texture varies more than seasoning does, and the soft ones are worth ordering twice.
- Panisse. Chickpea cake fried in squares, the Marseille bar snack that behaves like a chip.
Bread, pickles and the rest
Bread is the tool rather than the side: everything above exists to be carried by it, so the basket arriving first is normal and the small cover charge on the bill pays for it. Pickled turnip, chilli and cabbage sit in jars at almost every counter and reset the palate between rich plates. Order olives last, because they are the cheapest thing on the table and the one that fills you up before the grilled dishes arrive.
How the names travel
The same dish changes name across a border and usually gains heat, fat or lemon rather than changing entirely, which is why reading one city guide before the next one saves time. If you know what you liked in one room, you can order something close to it three countries over and spend the difference on a second jug. Start with the taverna order and follow the words from there.