
When we made this dish on the island of Psara, the island that I grew up on, we would use red mullet (barbounia) for this dish. My grandmother would always serve me the head.
Every time I cook this dish my thoughts wander back to my childhood and the day I took a coffin (those days it was planks of wood nailed together) out to sea to catch a fresh barbounia for my grandmother, thinking it was a boat. I still feel very connected to Psara; its hills, the sea, the food, the festivals and the people.