The night we dinned...

Picture this, you are standing on top of a mountain, not too high but steep in pitch. To the west there is sea, with a sun angling downwards casting harsh light on some small islands, to the east there is also sea. A cove, sheltered, long and skinny filled with sail boats and an old stone harbor. All around you are stone walls. Thick walls, thicker than they are high running down the hill sides all around you. Perpendicular to them are more walls creating a grid like pattern, only its not perfectly straight. Inside each square grid is a set of terraces. Sometimes 2, sometimes up to 4. You’re not sure why it was built , but, it feels like a great agricultural feat. Thousands of human hours have hand picked and placed these stones. In fact you read that if you lined up all the walls into a straight line it would be longer than the Great Wall of China. Something important was grown here, where very little water falls. Where it would take you abetter part of a day to access from the ocean below.

A church bell from a town, also made of stone though not quite as old and mostly abandoned rings as you begin to descend down the hill side. The ancient walls don’t stop. Through town, and olive groves, fig trees and blackberry brambles they descend along with you until you come across the reason you came in the first place. Dinner.

Nestled in the hill side is another, completely abandoned town. But wait, there it is, no sign or Matured to greet you, there amongst the buildings mostly caved in, is a strand of warm tea lights. A 5th generation family home that has migrated literally down from the highest hills in Hvar. What is left of  this simple home and out buildings has been turned into a a restaurant like no other.

Winding your way up through town there is more than one road that will lead you to dinner. Giddy with the thrill of the mystery of finding dinner. We strolled past an olive mill, and press, the town water catchment system, an old church, and many homes of happy times past.

Stari Komen serves unapologetically simple food. Rooted in Dalmatian home cooking. Serving dishes, such as Pašticada, and Peka. The Food is served family style at outdoor tables set in stone rooms who’s walls have all but been completely removed. Dramatic cliffs in the distance are softened by the numerous flowering potted plants and grape vines reclaiming the wild.  I am not sure if the staff or the ambiance was more charming. Homemade wines, Prošek and Grappas flowed freely as did the owners willingness to tour you around his families memories. Each item cherished for generations. You could have feed me cheese toasties and it would have been magical, but homemade strudel, sugar coated almonds and plates of anchovies fresh from the sea sparkled amongst the stone and cool night air.

The whole experience crossed the line of what is practical to what is  possible and blew straight into Magical.