Antikristo

Antikristo

I came to Crete chasing landscapes and history. I stayed for the food—and Antikristo sealed the deal.

Watching it cook is a ritual: lamb slowly roasting on wooden stakes, facing the fire, nothing rushed, nothing forced. Just heat, time, and respect for the ingredient. When it finally reached the plate, the meat was impossibly tender, smoky without being heavy, seasoned only with salt—and somehow that was enough. More than enough. It tasted honest. Like Crete itself. No tricks, no show. Just mastery passed down through generations.

Antikristo isn’t just a dish; it’s a lesson in patience and authenticity. You don’t simply eat it—you experience it, usually outdoors, with stories in the air and wine in your glass. If you want to understand Crete beyond the beaches, come for this. Come hungry, come curious, and let the fire do the talking.