Beside the Seaside

There’s something special about eating beside the sea, knowing your fish has just been plucked from the depths, breathing in the salt air, listening to the surf, watching the sun sink into the water as you down a glass of cool white wine. We’re spoilt in Europe with such variety of coastlines from the Adriatic to the North Sea, the Baltic to the Atlantic ...

Piran is a jewel of a town on Slovenia's short Adriatic coastline. Squeezed within the shores of a narrow promontory, its pastel hued Venetian houses shimmer in the still blue waters.

A tangle of medieval alleys run up the hillside which is topped by the campanile of Sv. Juirja's (St. George's) cathedral _ a copy of those across the bay in Venice. From the cathedral steps, the whole coast of Slovenia curves round to Italy in the west and Croatia in the east.

Side-by-side on Piran's eastern waterfront are the twin restaurants Pavel I and Pavel II, long established local favorites where you can feast on fresh fish and Istrian specialties looking out over the harbour.

We were a big group and put ourselves in the staffs, hands asking for a selection of their best _ although we settled for just two courses and skipped the offer of lobster spaghetti to go between the starters and the fish. Slovenian cooking can be a complicated mix, reflecting the country's location at the crossroads of Central Europe, Italy and the Balkans, but at Pavel's seafood simplicity rules.

The antipasti comprised clams, mussels, shrimp, a fishy carpaccio, soft white cheese and Kraški pršut, Slovenia's air-dried ham which rivals the San Daniele from just across the Italian border. A selection of gleaming fish were presented for our approval, then whisked away and returned grilled or baked to perfection with olive oil, lemon and garlic, there was gilt-head bream, sea bass, rascasse and a big, juicy flat fish.

It was all fabulous, washed down with the excellent malvazija Capo d'Istria wines, and finished off with a tray laden with on-the-house liquors_ plain grappa and others flavoured with lemon or blackberry.
Pavel, Prešernovo nabrežje, Piran, SI - 6330 +386 (0)5/674 71 01, +386 (0)5/674 71 02

___

Noordwijk's dunes lost their pristine nature long ago as the scatter of holiday homes and guest houses was gradually built up until the coast became dominated by the hulking hotels like the Huis der Duin, a luxury ziggurat favoured by NATO ministers and the Dutch football stars.

This North Sea resort is packed in summer with beach lovers from the cities of Holland and Germany's industrial heartland and in springtime it can be bracing base for exploring the nearby tulip fields.

Along the coast stretching away to the south the concrete strip soon gives way to the sandy heathland dotted with villas in eclectic styles from thatched faux cottages to modernist cubes and belle époque palacettes. On a blustery Autumn weekday, the dunes were deserted apart from the odd brave soul braving the cycle path through the grass. The beach is a wide and flat strip of compact sand favoured by joggers and horse riders.

Hidden among the dunes on Noordwijk's southern edge is Het Zuiderbad - restaurant and sun terrace. It's a curious place whose wooden beach huts and deck chairs have been attracting visitors since the 1920s. For 10 years now the main building has housed a restaurant serving seasonal, local produce in trendy, vaguely nautical surroundings looking out over the beach.

It was packed, with an open fire providing a welcome antidote to the near gale blowing outside. Lobster soup fortified with chunks of freshwater shrimp was an excellent warming starter. The main course was grilled fillets of brill served in a Champagne sauce that went very well with the house white, a fruity Castilian Rueda.

The exotic-sounding bavarois van Zeeuwse babbelaar op een spiegel van karamel _ an mousse cake flavoured with the much-loved toffees from the southern province of Zeeland _ rounded things up nicely with a sweet, scented glass of Muscat de Rivesaltes, Domaine Sarda-Malet, 2005.
http://www.zuiderbad.nl/

___

Medieval Porvoo is hidden on an inlet of the Gulf of Finland about 50 kilometres east of Helsinki. Dating back to the 14th century, its old town is mostly made up of wooden houses painted in shades of pale grey, power yellow or rust, clustered on the bank of the Porvoonjoki River. They are filled with little shops, galleries and cafes, which provided a welcome haven on a chilly December day.

This cozy place even has its own chocolate factory, Brunberg's which has been turning out truffles, chocolate kisses and that Nordic favourite, salted liquorice since 1871.

The medieval cathedral which crowns the hillside is under repair after a fire started by teenage vandals a couple of years ago, but thankfully the Wanha Laamanni restaurant just across the square survived. It's in a cherry red lawyer's house dating back to the 18th century, an era recalled in the flowery but restrained rococo interior.

Today's Finnish cooking takes full advantage of the wonderful natural products on offer in its lakes and forests _ game, cold-water fish, winter roots, matchless berries. At Wanha Laamanni you can try arctic char with creamed mushrooms and beetroot, or fried pikeperch with chanterelle sauce. Carnivores can go for the reindeer fillet with puikula potatoes from Lapland, or roe deer with game sauce. They're not their web site, but I remember spotting exotic treats like snow grouse and bear (for a high price) on the menu when I was there last year.

Expect to pay at least €50 for three courses, double that if you take a bottle from the wide, international wine list.
http://www.brunberg.fi/
http://www.wanhalaamanni.com/

____

Our arrival in Alvor did not get of to an auspicious start. After an age to find a parking place along the quayside, the Àbabuja restaurant that we'd been recommended was full. The man barbecuing fish at its neighbor, A Ribeira, said we could get a table there in 40 minutes.

"Tudo bem," we said and set off to take a drink in a nearby café where we could watch a glorious sunset over the lagoon.

The Ria de Alvor is a haven of natural beauty on the Algarve coast of Portugal between Portimão and Lagos. Its mouth divides the great sweeping strands of Praia de Alvor and Meia Praia. The shallow waters are a haven for yachtsmen, seabirds and shellfish.

Alvor was once a small fishing village. Now surrounded by holiday homes and the sandstone cliffs looming over the wonderful beaches off to the west are marred by some ugly concrete hotel towers. Despite that, the waterfront retains its charm and the main street running down to it is a lively evening strip of bars and shops like the cool Atlantic Sud tee-shirt emporium.

When we finally got to the restaurant it was still bursting at the seams and waiters buzzed between the icebox and the vast open-air grill with trays filled with squid, bream, sole and a shoal of other fish.

It looked and smelled wonderful. But after weeks of grilled fish, we fancied a change and kicked off with some amêijoas, the sweet clams which are the finest fruit of the lagoon, steamed with lemon, garlic and a fresh bunch of coriander. Having spotted somebody fishing for cuttlefish in the lagoon earlier in the day, our main course had to be cataplana de chocos. A cataplana is unique Algarvian pan that combines the functions of a wok and a pressure cooker _ in it were chewy cuttlefish, fat prawns and potatoes bathed in a rich tomato sauce flavored with more coriander.

This came with a bottle of chilled white wine from the Alentejo and was finished up with delicious fig and carob cakes. We left late in the night, but still had to thread our way out past the crowds waiting to get in.
A Ribeira, Largo da Ribeira, 15 - Alvor. Tel. +351-282 457 012