Crete on the Half Shell

Sometimes I need a little escape. Having enjoyed the anecdotes in Byron Ayangolu’s not-so-new New Home Cooking, I decided to read his sun-soaked tale of retiring to Crete and opening a curry house despite numerous challenges and knowing better.

Just as I was about to begin my review, an email arrived from Canadian Magazines, alerting me to reviled book review words. Apparently I’m not allowed to describe this book as poignant, luminous, magisterial, nuanced, subtle, searing, lyrical, epic or chthonic. I’m not sure what that last one means, but the books isn’t any of the other terms, so I think I’m safe.

At 268 pages, this food-inspired memoir is short, funny and — Fiddlesticks! Compelling, engaging and readable are taboo, too. Let me think…

a delight? (Rechecking the list. Yup. Delight’s okay.)

I’m not sure what kind of books those reviewers have been reading, but Crete on the Half Shell definitely isn’t one of them. It’s light, breezy and laugh-out-loud funny at times. Completely honest about both the joys and frustrations of life on Crete, Ayanoglu writes with just enough exaggeration to pump up the humour and just enough realism to keep you reading. Perfect weather, unparalleled hospitality, old-world chauvinism and fascinating, albeit frustrating, characters pack the pages. This well-balanced and fast-paced book vacillates between comic circumstances and mouth-watering food descriptions. Travel enthusiasts, foodies and anyone in need of some light-hearted escapism will find this worth their time.

While Crete on the Half Shell isn’t going to rank with the critics as profound literature, I enjoyed every page of this energetic, late-winter distraction. You’ll laugh, you’ll salivate, you’ll want to book a flight to Crete.