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Tastes, smells of Athens alive in Central Market

Glimpses of Middle East seen in city's lively bazaar

updated 9:17 a.m. ET Aug. 21, 2004

ATHENS, Greece - You can hear the shouting blocks away. Is it fans cheering for an Olympic road race? No, it’s the calls of vendors from the Athens Central Market.

This is the real Athens, seemingly untouched by the Games and probably the only place in the entire city without an Olympic banner.

If it can be used in the kitchen, it’s in the market. Meat, fish, spices, cheese, produce — there’s even a store that sells candles and censers for churches. The Central Market, built in the 1870s, is a piece of the Middle East in Europe’s frontier.

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Slap, chop, whack — the butchers have no mercy when hacking into whole pigs and cows. There must be more meat sellers here than in the entire city of Chicago. In white coats and tall rubber boots, the vendors proudly show off pig heads, ribs and tongues to the elderly men and women who stop to inspect the lungs of what could be this evening’s dinner. The high Athens summer temperatures don’t dissuade these stalls from hanging whole pig halves — innards included — on the lintels.

Just when you think the stench can’t get any worse it does, the fish market comes into view. Like the meat market, the fish section is covered with white Plexiglas and lets in just enough light to make you feel as if you are outside. A centimeter of water covers the floor, the result of fishmongers cleaning the day’s catch just as it’s sold. No doubts about freshness here — the fish are practically still swimming as they sit on the crushed ice.

Gregoris Katsamburis has stood at his stand for more than 20 years.

“The smell doesn’t bother me anymore; I grew up with this,” he said as he scanned the aisles for potential customers. The summer months are slow, and the Games have done nothing to help business, bringing people to town who choose to eat out more than cook at home and shop in the local markets. The 400 customers he sees on an average winter day have shrunk by half this month. His father and grandfather were fisherman in the same bay of the Aegean where the Olympic sailing competition is now taking place, but Katsamburis chose a career on dry land and chose a life of working indoors at the covered market.

Step out into the sunlight and the sweet smell of cinnamon and coriander draws you to the spice, fruit and nut stands.

“Try this,” says Alton Begoli, as he holds out a fresh pistachio, hoping to attract a bit of business on this slow day. The Albanian immigrant came to Greece six years ago and has worked at Varinas, a dried fruit and nut shop on the main street, since his arrival. At 6 euro a kilo, this buttery nut with a red skin seems like a rare delicacy.

Tourists in this market, not far from two central metro lines, are few and far between. With his blond hair and casual t-shirt, Frank Schaffhirt, in town from Berlin, Germany, is easily marked as a visitor.

“I haven’t bought anything yet,” he said. “It’s hard to buy meat and fish when you are staying in a hotel.”

Postcards from Athens


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