As it often happens with my garden’s vegetables, I forgot to cut the broccoli when it was still hard and firm. Now it had opened and was soon going to fill with tiny yellow flowers, but I knew that this didn’t mean it wasn’t still delicious. I separated the stems from the very tender tops, and cooked them in boiling water for about ten minutes; I added the tops and cooked for another four minutes, then drained everything through a fine colander.

There was quite a bit of green mash at the bottom of the colander, from the over-ripe florets. I diced the stems, added the green mash and decided to use it as stuffing for breads. I was inspired by Scacciata con i Broccoli, a Sicilian stuffed focaccia from Catania originally made with the purple, very flavorful broccoli that was once the only kind we had in Greece. (more…)

Read More

I did this post two years ago but the weather this weekend seems very similar. Only our peas are not yet ready for picking, and their blossoms are white. But I guess I will cook and bake similar dishes. 

Kathari Deftera (Clean Monday), the first day of Lent is traditionally celebrated out of doors. During the long weekend people travel to the country to eat, drink, fly kites and dance to the tunes of live bands provided by various municipalities. But this year it seems it will be a rainy or quite windy day, a welcome change for us after a long period of sunny and dry weather, but the city people who will come to enjoy the island will probably feel miserable…

Yesterday the rain and the wind scattered the almond blossoms everywhere. 

Two years ago the moving feast had happened later, in March.

Just before the rain {two years ago} Costas and I gathered the first sweet peas from the garden; the wind had broken a large branch which we decided to use as decoration for our humble table. I briefly sautéed the peas with garlic, and dressed some of my pre-cooked beans with spicy ladolemono–lemon and olive oil with chopped scallions and Maras pepper. This year our lettuces are prolific and we share them with friends.

(more…)

Read More

With the fruit, besides my usual marmalade, I make curd substituting lemon with bitter orange juice, and also a fragrant, Campari-like drink (Vin apéritif à l’orange amère) inspired by a recipe from Provence. 

Fifteen years ago, we planted two navel-orange trees in the southwestern corner of the garden. One is still around in a pitiful state and we have yet to get one full-grown orange from it. The other almost dried up, ‘burned’ by a cold January wind; but grew back from its un-grafted part. Now it thrives as a bitter orange tree, one of the most common, somewhat overlooked trees in Greece, that line the sidewalks in Athens and other big cities.

Our modest tree gives us an abundance of fragrant bitter oranges each winter and I am always on a lookout for recipes to use them up, besides my usual marmalade, of which I make loads every season. This marmalade has become my staple ingredient; I add it to cakes, creams, and breads, both sweet and savory, often omitting sugar, especially in my fresh cheese and yogurt summer desserts. (more…)

Read More

Around mid-January, as the new olives are almost ready, I try to find ways to use-up the olives of years passed.

 

This fragrant Eliopita,  with an unusual, delicious, easy dough of olive oil and orange juice, is the first thing that comes to mind. It is much simpler than the common olive breads, and much more enticing. The original recipe was given to me many years ago by Zoe Evangelou whom I had met at my friend Roxani Matsa’s winery in Kantza. I made the pie several times, and included it in one of my early Greek books. Later, the recipe was revised by  Vali Manouelides, another friend, who instead of the original large loaf, divided the dough and filling to shape smaller logs that were easier to cut and serve as finger food. (more…)

Read More

They are appreciated, I think, and in any event, they are less of a problem when you bring to a friend’s dinner party, since flowers are a pain for the hosts forcing them to stop everything and try to find a vase…   

As soon as the weather cools significantly I prepare my first batch of rustic chocolates. We keep them in a jar and we eat one or two pieces after lunch, offer to friends who drop by, or give them as gifts. When the jar is almost empty, I make more, exactly as I do with my savory crunchy cookies that I keep in a similar jar.

I published the basic recipe for the chocolates in my Mediterranean Vegetarian Feasts, since my friend Vicki Snyder insists that every cookbook, no matter what its subject, should include a chocolate dessert. But I have the habit of changing and enriching my recipes, even after I have published them, so here is my updated version of the very easy chocolates I make over and over. This time, as I anticipated preparing a few gift boxes, I doubled the recipe, melting 3 pounds of bitter-sweet chocolate, in two separate bowls, otherwise it takes too long for the pieces to melt. Costas and I spread the mixture in two pans and left them to harden overnight. If we had cut them after two hours the pieces would be even and square; but this time a few pieces crumbled as we cut the hard mass of chocolate with a large bread knife.

I also add pistachios to my Chicken Liver Pâté which is flavored with thyme, orange and brandy. I am sure your friends will appreciate a jar of this homemade pâté, which is an ideal appetizer, so I suggest you double the recipe.

We also made quince preserves (page 236 in my book) and since we had extra quince from our trees, I cooked some in sweet wine with honey, as I describe in the recipe for the stuffing of the Quince Pie Rolls, minus the raisins. (more…)

Read More

Braised capers are an ideal topping for the local fava, the trademark dish of Santorini. Today Santorini Fava is served as a meze at taverns throughout Greece, usually prepared with mashed, imported yellow split peas (dal), dressed simply with fruity olive oil, topped with sliced onions and dried Greek oregano.

In the old days, though, fava was made from dried fava beans and/or from an indigenous, ancient legume, a variant of Lathyrus sativus (chickling vetch or grass pea), called cicerchia in Italian and almorta in Spanish.

Legumes such as Grass pea, and fava (broad) beans were planted in alternate years, instead of barley or other cereals, in many parts of Greece, especially on the islands where the soil is often very poor. My neighbor, Zenovia Stefa, told me that in the small gardens and terraces around Otzias, where we live, her late father used to plant grass peas (Lathyrus sativus), the legume for which the generic name ‘fava’ is used throughout Greece. (more…)

Read More

These days of fig abundance are here again, and if I am not making fig jam I use the leftover figs, the overripe or the ones that start to dry on our old tree in the back of the house, as stuffing for bread.

Many years ago I had eaten in Paris delicious bread twists with figs and I tried to reproduce them in my kitchen with dried figs in the winter, but the results were not memorable. With dried figs and Rockford cheese I top a savory flat bread that I often serve as meze, before the main meal, and I included it in my last book. (more…)

Read More

Our lemon harvest is so plentiful this year that I cannot stop making several batches of marmalade, lemon curd, cakes, liqueurs, lemonade, preserved lemons etc. and still I have plenty of wonderful large and fragrant fruits to offer to friends. 

My mother used to keep a couple of juiced lemon halves by the sink, and she would rub her hands often with the lemons, to keep her hands soft and white. Even at the age of ninety-three, after a lifetime of cooking and cleaning, her hands were still silky and beautiful.

We take lemons for granted in Greece; every Greek pantry has a steady supply of lemons which, along with salt, pepper, and olive oil, is considered an essential and basic ingredient. I didn’t give lemons much thought, until some years ago.

I was sitting with my friend, food and music writer Fred Plotkin, at a trattoria in Otranto, a pretty little town in Puglia, on the heel of the Italian boot, the edge of Magna Graeca. It was a blazing hot summer afternoon, and I was very excited because I was finally going to taste fava e cicorie (mashed fava beans and steamed greens), a traditional country dish of the area.

(more…)

Read More