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Charlie Headington is a UNCG lecturer and slow food advocate. He and his wife, Debby, are spending the fall in Greece and Italy, working on organic farms as volunteers with WWOOF, World Wide Opportunities on Organic Farms. This is one of several installments on their experiences.

Go to a taverna where Greeks fill the tables, go into the kitchen and see what's cooking in the big pans, and sit down. You'll have a delicious and healthy meal. That's what we were told by a friendly Greek man as we took the Metro into Athens from the airport.

So, our first meal was in the Athenian meat market. The waiter took us into the kitchen, and we chose among large pans: moussaka and lamb with greens in a lemon sauce. The moussaka was at least three inches high with sliced potatoes in the top bechamel layer. This first piece remained the standard throughout our journey. The next day, we went to a guidebook-inspired taverna, and the moussaka was timid in comparison.

The next night, we found a fish restaurant whose sign could not be seen from across the street. It didn't need to advertise because its tables were always full with neighborhood people. We ate grilled squid and red mullet one night, fried anchovies and mussels the next.

Our week at a Peloponnesian farm spoiled us because every day the owner, Jennifer Kotsifas, created new dishes, working with grains, beans, chickpeas, fresh fruit and vegetables and spices.

The Mediterranean is an incubator of cuisines, and Crete is at its center. For centuries, sailing ships hopped along the coastline bringing new varieties of food and spices. Where else would they get cinnamon, nutmeg, tea, eggplant and, much later from Turkey, stuffed grape leaves, baklava and mezedes (small appetizers to begin the main meal)? And from the west, what would Greek (and Italian) cooking be without the New World specialties of tomato, green pepper, potato and corn?

Crete is a long, slender island at the seafaring crossroads of the eastern Mediterranean. It has had the opportunity to sample all the new imports. Cretans rely on lots of vegetables, fruits, grains, beans and olive oil. Meat is secondary, so vegetarians are very happy here. Cretans eat more olive oil than anyone - three times as much as Italian - yet they have one of the healthiest diets in the world. Peer-reviewed research has shown that cardiac patients and healthy people benefit from a diet loaded with "good fat" (olive oil, not animal fat), vegetables and fruits.

Yet all is not well, reports a recent New York Times article, "Fast Food Hits the Mediterranean; a Diet Succumbs" (September 24, 2008). Greek doctors are concerned about the increase in heart disease and diabetes. Three-fourths of Greek adults are overweight, and the number of overweight children doubled between 1982 and 2002. The doctors, social workers and even the U.N. have rounded up the usual suspects: fast food , supermarkets and their processed food and a new affluent, urban lifestyle.

But in the hinterlands and small villages or Crete, the traditional diet remains intact. One restaurant owner told me, "When they are young, they eat fast food. But they return when they have a family." We found many examples of a vibrant "slow food" culture among the Cretans.

In Mirtos, a quiet village on the southern coast of Crete, we met and spoke with two cooks, Yiannis Zervakis and Georgios Hanialakis. Georgios grew up in Mirtos and now runs a bar, Petrino, "Built of Rock." We were drawn there because he plays Italian opera in the afternoon and he also offers his patrons beachside seating.

"I work hard, both summer and winter (there are basically two seasons here, dry and rainy)," he said. "When I finish here in the summer, I grow cucumbers, eggplant and peppers for market. There are thousands of large greenhouses in this area. It is the warmest part of Crete, and we can even grow bananas. A large co-op buys it, some is for Crete, and the rest goes to Russia and Europe. Fresh vegetables are available all year long."

"Organic?" I asked.

"Yes, the European Union has set high standards. A while ago, farmers were loading pesticides on the plants. Either they didn't know any better or just didn't care. Now, 90 percent of the produce is organic. ... Try my two dishes today. They are made fresh."

His "Cretan plate" is a speciality with a bowl of raw vegetables, warmed with hot, boiled potatoes and half submerged in olive oil and lemon juice. You eat it by drawing from the bottom. Then we had his "Mexican plate." We expected frijoles and rice, but it was a sensitively prepared chicken and vegetable medley in a peppery sauce.

"I like to experiment in the kitchen," he said. "I use Cretan ingredients, but I mix them to make something new. Tomorrow, I will do something with rice. Come."

We kept coming back for the food as much as the view .

Zervakis runs Katrina, a place where every dish satisfies. Our first meal there was a medley of eight traditional appetizers; each had its own brilliance. The eggplant was spicy and the feta strong. We came back twice, and each time we went for Cretan dishes: octopus in wine, moussaka, lamb with herbs and tomatoes, and chicken and wild sage. Zervakis is a mathematician, but his passion is the kitchen. He told us that he continues to gather wild herbs from the nearby hills and river valley. Because he is both owner and the only waiter, we appreciate the time he took to talk with us.

Elgeni Kazaislaki of the mountain village Zaros knows her local food, too. She operates, cooks and waits tables at Veggera or "Local Cuisine." For 10 euros, you get a complete meal of local specialities. As soon as we sit down, Kazaislaki serves spring water, bread and a cabbage slaw with a hunk of feta. Next, mashed yellow peas with olive oil and stuffed tomatoes and peppers.

Greeks don't have set courses like Italians. Dishes come out when they are ready. We are pretty satisfied at this point, but she brings us two pieces of moussaka, chicken and okra in a tomato and oil sauce and the standard medley of cooked vegetables, eggplant, potatoes and zucchini. I'm tempted to finish everything, but I can't. There is still dessert, and happily she brings a bunch of grapes.

Kazaislaki grew up in Zaros, a farming community in the interior where there are few tourists and the hospitality is simple and generous. Pictures of her, her family and her town line the walls. Many of them are from World War II, and we learn that this mountain town, like so many others, strongly resisted the Nazis. Another set of pictures tells a happier story of her grandmother's bakery .

Cretan bakery goods fill the breakfast table at Hotel Keramos the next morning. The proprietor brought us a freshly baked cheese pastry with honey. Then came a tray of eight pastries: one with custard, one apple, a mincemeat strudel, puff balls with honey and several savory ones with cheese, potato or spinach.

We are weaving our way through the major provinces and regional cuisines of Crete. In the mountain villages, we find more lamb, pork and snails. However, vegetable dishes still dominate. On the coast, it's fish. By the time we end our trip, we'll have tasted a dozen kinds including octopus, squid, anchovies and sardines. Unfortunately, the Mediterranean will probably be fished out in a generation; in its place will come fish farms with all their problems.

We had one surprise. In Paleohora, a laid-back beach town, we followed the guidebook's advice to the "best fish restaurant in Crete." We were brought into the kitchen and chose a fresh red sea bream that they sold by weight, 45 euros a kilogram . It was the best fish either of us had ever tasted. But it cost $70 (not including appetizers and drinks)! We shouldn't have been surprised. When we saw our fish at the market, it sold for 25 euros per kilo; thus, the markup was only 40 percent. The scarcity of wild-caught fish keeps the prices high.

Crete has been subject to foreign powers for more than 500 years. Venice and the Ottomans kept them poor, but Cretans never relinquished their customs, religion or cuisine. In fact, subjugation encouraged a refinement and simplicity in their cuisine. Cretans made the best of their seasonal food while incorporating the spices, sweet desserts and recipes of their oppressors.

When we return to Greensboro, we'll follow their three basic rules: Keep it simple, keep it local, and douse it with olive oil .

But the Cretan way is to learn to eat seasonally. Fortunately, Southern cuisine traditionally makes use of local ingredients, and our emerging farmers' markets make it easy to procure fresh produce, local meat and fish from a sustainable yield. As Cretans exemplify, our cuisine can change and incorporate new ideas without losing its identity.