Psarosoupa (Kakavia) — Greek Fisherman’s Fish Soup

Psarosoupa, often called Kakavia, is Greece’s iconic fisherman’s soup — a testament to how simple ingredients from the sea become a comforting meal. The name Kakavia comes from the old fishing pots used over open fires, in which crews on small boats would boil together the day’s catch. Originally, any fish that wasn’t sold at market (heads, bones, small fish) went into the pot along with onions, tomatoes, and plenty of olive oil. As this medley simmered on the boat or at the seaside tavern, it yielded a flavorful broth that warmed hungry fishermen to the bone.

The modern version starts with fresh white fish — common choices include cod, snapper, or bass — often whole or in large pieces. In a large pot, onions, garlic, and leeks are sautéed gently in olive oil, then chunks of fish (including sometimes the head for extra flavor) are added. Tomatoes and root vegetables like potatoes or carrots go in next, along with herbs such as parsley, bay, and a hint of oregano. Water or fish stock covers the ingredients. The soup is brought to a gentle boil and then simmered until the fish and vegetables are tender and the flavors meld. Finally, a generous squeeze of lemon juice is added at serving time to brighten the soup.

What results is a bowl of genuine Mediterranean comfort. The taste of Kakavia is fresh and briny, gently spiced by herbs, with rich undertones from the slow-cooked fish. The olive oil gives the broth a golden richness, and the lemon lifts the entire profile. Unlike heavy stews, this soup remains light but deeply satisfying, embodying the Greek way of turning humble components into something extraordinary. Fisherman’s soup has its place on menus from tavernas by the Aegean to family kitchens in Athens; served steaming hot, it delivers pure soul-warming flavor.

The story of Kakavia goes deep into Greek seafaring history. Ancient fishermen prized even the heads and bones of fish as prime ingredients for a communal meal. For many coastal communities, fish soup was as fundamental as bread. Today, while fresh seafood is more widely available, Kakavia still evokes that earthy simplicity: no fish goes to waste, and every part surrenders flavor. Across the Mediterranean, many cultures have fish stews (from Italian brodetto to French bouillabaisse), but Kakavia carries a Greek signature in its use of olive oil and lemon. Regional twists abound: on Crete a splash of raki may be added, in Cyclades a handful of shellfish or a pinch of saffron appears. Yet every version shares the same core: simmering fish and garden vegetables with herbs to create a broth that tastes like the sea.

Kakavia is enjoyed year-round but feels especially welcome in cooler weather or on a breezy seaside afternoon. It speaks of community and tradition: fishermen gathering for a shared meal, family-style portions passed around a table, and conversations punctuated by the clink of lemon wedges in soup bowls. Though it may not have the fame of national dishes like moussaka or tzatziki, Kakavia is a stalwart of Greek home cooking. Each region and family may tweak the recipe, but all agree on the spirit of the dish: a cozy, warming soup from simple ingredients that feels as nourishing as a day by the sea.