We take a look inside the traditional Ikaria food pantry, where beans, wild greens, thyme honey and home-pressed olive oil define the simple, longevity-driven flavours of the Greek island.

By Eleftheria Karakatsina

When I think about the taste of Ikaria, I don’t think of one dish- I think of a smell.

Warm bread torn open by hand, olive oil that smells like crushed grass and sun, wild greens bubbling quietly on the stove and a pot of beans that have been cooking so long you’ve stopped checking the clock.

If I had to describe the Ikarian pantry to someone who has never been here, I would say this, it’s humble, but it’s alive. Jars of beans, dried mountain herbs hanging upside down, honey that smells like thyme and wildflowers,  homemade wine in reused bottles and olive oil in big tins that get refilled every year from someone’s cousin’s press.

It’s nothing flashy, nothing imported from far away- everything here tells a story and most of it comes from someone you know.

The Wild Greens: More Than Just a Side Dish

Wild greens (horta)  are not a trend here, they’re just… lunch.

In spring, you’ll see people walking along the hillsides with small knives and cloth bags, which is nothing unusual, just a quiet understanding that this is what the land is giving right now.

Some of the greens that feel deeply Ikarian are:

–Radikia (wild chicory):  slightly bitter, sturdy, honest.

–Vlita (amaranth greens): softer, almost silky when boiled.

–Zohos (sow thistle): delicate and a little sweet.

We simply boil them and finish them with good extra virgin olive oil and lemon. That’s it. Sometimes they sit next to beans and sometimes they are the meal.

What I love most is that gathering them slows you down- you notice the soil, the wind, the small yellow flowers you used to ignore and yuu feel part of something seasonal, not rushed.

Beans: The Quiet Backbone of the Table

If you opened an Ikarian cupboard, you would probably find at least three types of dried beans. Legumes are everywhere here because they make sense. They grow well and they store well. They also feed many people and they don’t need much else to make them tasty. 

We cook:

–Fasolada: white bean soup with tomato and olive oil

–Revithia: (slow-cooked chickpeas, often baked overnight

–Mavromatika: black-eyed peas, usually with herbs and greens

They’re not fancy dishes but they’re filling and deeply comforting. You eat them and feel steady.

I think what makes beans so central here isn’t just nutrition, it’s the process. They take time. You soak them. You simmer them. You let them sit. Nobody is in a rush.

And honestly, some of the most important ingredients here are the simplest: onions, garlic, olive oil, dried oregano. Elsewhere they might be background flavours but here, they are the foundation.

The Herbs We Drink, Not Just Sprinkle

In Ikaria, herbs don’t live only in the kitchen drawer, they live in our kettles.

In the evenings, after dinner plates are cleared but no one is ready to leave the table, someone puts water on to boil. No caffeine. No rush. Just a handful of something gathered from the hills, steeping slowly. Herbal tea here isn’t a trend.

Common herbs we drink as tisanes include:

Wild oregano: sharp and deeply aromatic. As a tea, it’s strong, almost peppery, with a warmth that feels protective. Many people drink it at the first sign of a cold, or just when they feel run down.

Rosemary: woody and resinous, but surprisingly smooth when infused. The steam alone clears your head. It’s the kind of tea you drink when you want to feel alert but calm at the same time, like a gentle reset.

Sage: soft, silvery, and quietly soothing. As a tisane, it’s mild and comforting, something you sip slowly at night. 

Ikarian herbs feel stronger to me than on other islands. Maybe it’s the wind, maybe it’s the rocky soil. They grow slowly, under stress, and somehow that concentrates everything; aroma, oils, character.

If one infusion captures Ikaria for me, it’s sage. I associate it with late evenings, a quiet kitchen, someone telling a long story you’ve heard before but don’t mind hearing again.

Honey and Wine: Everyday Pleasures

Ikarian honey is something else. Mostly thyme or heather-based, sometimes mixed with pine or wildflowers. It’s thick, aromatic, almost herbal and you can taste the hillside in it. We drizzle it over yogurt, over bread, into herbal tea when someone has a sore throat.

And then there’s wine.

Many families still make their own. Nothing branded and nothing polished. Just grapes, patience, and experience passed down from one generation to the next. It’s usually a bit cloudy, sometimes unpredictable,  but it’s alive. Wine here isn’t saved for celebrations. It’s poured at lunch, shared at festivals, topped up without measuring. It’s part of the table, not the event.

Eating With the Seasons 

In winter, we eat more beans, more stews, more slow-cooked dishes, in spring, the table turns green with wild horta, summer brings tomatoes that actually taste like tomatoes, cucumbers still warm from the sun, figs split open by hand. whereas autumn smells like crushed grapes and fresh olive oil. You don’t need a calendar here, as the market tells you what month it is. Visitors often tell me they feel calmer eating this way and I think it’s because the food isn’t fighting the season, it’s cooperating with it.

A Moment That Stayed With Me

Once, I walked with an older neighbour into the hills to collect greens. She didn’t bring a book or a guide. She just knew. She’d point: “This one, yes. This one, no. This one only in small amounts.” When we got back, we boiled them, dressed them with oil from her brother’s trees, and ate them with bread she had baked that morning.

It was the simplest meal. But I remember thinking: this is wealth. Not money. Not variety. Just knowledge. Time. Trust in the land.

It changed how I see food. It’s not about complexity, it’s about relationship.

Bringing a Bit of Ikaria Into Your Own Kitchen

If you live far from here but want to bring some Ikarian feeling into your meals, start simple:

-Cook a pot of beans slowly, with olive oil and herbs.

-Use good extra virgin olive oil generously.

-Drink herbal tea at night instead of something stimulating.

-Add bitter greens to your plate.

-Eat with other people, slowly.

You don’t need to recreate the island.

Just pay attention to your ingredients, let them speak, and give them time.

That’s really what the Ikarian pantry teaches you.

And maybe that’s the quiet secret behind the flavour of this place.

This article is the second in our Ikarian wellbeing series that will continue to explore Ikaria through its kitchens, gardens, festivals, and the people who sustain its long-living communities. With Eleftheria as our guide, future articles will dive deeper into traditional recipes, herbal remedies, local celebrations, and everyday rituals that define life in a Blue Zone. You can read our first piece- Ikaria’s Wellbeing Secrets here. 

About the Author

Eleftheria Karakatsina is the founder of Greek Superherbs, a New York-based company sharing wildcrafted herbal teas and raw honey from Ikaria, Greece. She spends her summers on the island, gathering herbs, foraging honey, and exploring how traditional wisdom can inspire modern wellness. Discover her products at greeksuperherbs.com and follow her journey @greeksuperherbs.