See José Andrés’ Athens list. 

We had compiled quite a few suggestions, but José surprised me when he chose Birdman, the Japanese-inspired Pub, for his fist afternoon bites and drinks in Athens. I had proposed we try a few cocktails there later in the night, since it was already past four, but this didn’t stop José from ordering most of the truly wonderful seafood and meat bites chef Ari Vezenes cooks on live fire. He loved the chicken liver and heart, even the Iberico Katsu that I was afraid would not meet his high standards…

* * *

Dinner was at Bobena fish tavern in Kesariani, arranged by avgotaraho producer Zafiris Trikalinos, ‘one of the world’s most incredible delicacies,’ according to José who could not stop eating it, especially freshly cured as we had it in various dishes throughout our meals. Fortunately, Tikalinos Avgotaraho is available in the US and ideal for a precious Valentine’s meal.

The taramosalata with avgotaraho was as I remember it from my early childhood when this iconic Lenten meze was prepared with this precious Greek fish roe –before cheap cod-roe from Norway and Iceland became available. We We also had linguine with avgotaraho, and loved the two kinds of home-baked breads, and the delicious sea-urchins from Chanea, Crete. The chef chopped and served us his incredible slow-roasted eggplant salad, and José created his avgotaraho-sprinkled olive-oil-fried eggs, as well as a sweet version of meringue lightly sprinkled with avgotaraho…

Before our visit to the Central Market the next morning, we stopped for coffee at Mokka, the usual coffee spot. Besides the traditional Greek/Turkish coffee prepared on hot sand, Jose tried the  cold brew which he loved. And we were surprised when visitors commented that these days Athenian cafés serve some of the best coffee in Europe.

January is a particularly good time for fish in Greece, and José was enchanted to find live karavides (langoustines) sold at a price that to me seemed exorbitant, but apparently it was considerably less than Spain or the US. He bought quite a few, and, at the newly established Hasapika restaurant in the Market, he proceeded to cook them for us full of joy! It is obvious that cooking is his favorite job and he misses it now that he is involved with World Central Kitchen and so many other things that keep him away from the kitchen. He simply boiled the langoustines in ‘water heavily salted similar to the sea,’  then peeled them and offered us sublime bites. He then braised some with olive oil and lemon, and fried eggs in their delicious sauce! For me this was one of the most memorable meals I ever had!

We then had a brief tasting at the humble Diporto, the old tavern José remembered from his previous visit, 20 years ago. Even after those incredible langoustines, the beans, chickpeas and fava still tasted wonderful, José exclaimed, as he was eager to be photographed with Mitsos, the old, tireless cook.

* * *

It was a pleasant, not too cold afternoon, and José and Tichi decided to visit the Parthenon. Then we all met at Pharaoh, the much talked-about new restaurant which has become the young Athenians’ favorite, but it is unfortunately small which makes it particularly hard to get a reservation.

Chef Manolis Papoutsakis’ homey dishes may not have included much avgotaraho, but José loved them, while chef Michael Costa besides the food enjoyed the jazz music, well-chosen by the DJ who plays old vinyl records on the turntable. We enjoyed the chestnuts stifado, with pearl onions and warm spices, a dish from the mountains of Crete, and José loved the humble rice with cabbage and leeks, and the rare monkfish avgolemono with ascolymvrous –the thorn particularly loved in Crete. The slow-cooked zygouri (1-2 year old lamb) risotto was exceptional, as was the lamb, and rabbit. As for the long wine list, it included some new Greek natural wines, along with an eclectic selection of international labels.

José, along with everybody else, were delighted and he immediately posted on his Instagram: “Amazing NEO Taverna, celebrating the traditional dishes of Greece with touches of Crete island in a cool place, with awesome food and unique Greek wines with many indigenous grapes and awesome music.”

* * *

Next morning I took chef Mickael Costa to Stani, the old loukoumades (fried dough-puff) and dairy shop, where my father used to take me and my sister when we were kids. It still makes THE best traditional, crunchy loukoumades in Athens.

On our way back, at a busy sidewalk we came upon a lady selling exquisite wild greens, in neat clean bunches: nettles, vrouves (white mustard shoots), mallow, chicory, sorrel, wild arugula. 

* * *

At Ergon Market we tried the freshly-grilled, sourdough Greek pita –very different from the crunchy-airy Zaytinya pita—which was drizzled with olive oil, sprinkled with oregano and served with black, squid-ink taramosalata, which looked more impressive than it tasted. The lamb hunkiar, with mashed eggplant, and the shrimp saganaki were more interesting.

Nolan, star chef Sotiris Kontizas’ acclaimed small restaurant combining Japanese and Greek traditions, is always full. We only managed to get an outside table, braving the chill with portable heaters. We enjoyed zucchini and smoked eggplant salad with miso vinaigrette, raw shrimp and tuna in crunchy rice paper, and unusual fried chicken bites, among other dishes.

The last Athenian dinner for José and the team was at Kookoovaya, again lavishly arranged by Zafiris Trikalinos. He brought copious amounts of avgotaraho, which chef Periklis Koskinas served in various starters, mostly pairing it with morsels of  raw fish. I particularly loved the sea bream topped with blood orange slices and avgotaraho, but also the less sumptuous paper-thin fried zucchini and his rif on the traditional greens’ pie he simply accompanies with thick yogurt. 

Jose had a long discussion with the chef, and obviously would have loved to be able to get his hands on some of the exquisite fish the restaurant uses, but it was late and the kitchen was busy cooking for a large group of people…

Thinking back on my days with José in Athens, I would love to arrange for him to cook along with some of the chefs whose dishes he tasted. I only hope that he will soon return to Athens, which he characterized as a very interesting European food scene. Maybe he would also visit Crete and the north of Greece to sample wines and try his hand with our fish, vegetables, and meat, as it is more than obvious that the great José Andrés is certainly happier in the kitchen, cooking and creating for his friends and customers…

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I was quite ambivalent when, early Mars, the organizers decided to make the Oxford Symposium virtual. Let us wait, I said, hopefully things will be better by July… As we all know, of course, I was foolishly optimistic and fortunately the wise Symposium team decided in time to undertake the huge task to make everything happen online. They worked tirelessly, until the day of the opening events, and the result was –and still is, as it officially ends August 2– fascinating!

I was so sorry to have to cancel my much-anticipated annual trip to Oxford to meet friends from all over the world, listen to stimulating papers, and share fabulous meals at St Katz College’s stylish dining room. I even had bought my BA ticket to London last January –now it is ‘floating’ and with any luck I will be able to use it next year(!).

It all begun with an emotional greeting by Claudia Roden, the Symposium’s president, who emerged radiant speaking from her garden in London.

Throughout the July 10-12 weekend the plethora of video paper presentations and the Zoom meetings followed the relentless full-day schedule of several parallel sessions, much like the actual concurrent presentations at St Katz’s.

The keynote was given by professor Charles Spence who spoke about Gastrophysics and his experiments on the combination of sound and taste, among other things. Then each one chose to listen to some of the many excellent papers, but we also had the chance to chat, if briefly, with other participants during the virtual ‘coffee breaks.’

The weeks that followed the initial Symposium weekend we attended the speakers’ stimulating Q and A sessions, after having the chance to watch and listen, at our own pace, to every single one of the presentations and prepare for the hourly Zoom sessions of every group of papers, as they were inventively divided in sub-themes by Cathy Kaufman.

Among them:

• Pharmacopoeia, included a fascinating paper by Joshua Lovinger on the uplifting properties of saffron and its uses during the Šavu‘ot according to 14^th c. Hebrew florilegia from Provence.
• Colonialism finally answered my annatto question, the elusive spice/coloring that I bought, but have never used. Janet Beizer spoke about ‘Traveling with a Hairy Heart, or Where Cooking with Annatto Can Take You”
• Pot-pourri which described cooking and baking with cannabis.
• Medieval texts, where William Weaver spoke, and showed wonderful recreations of dishes with “Herbs and Spices in the Court Cuisine of Medieval Cyprus: Food in the Cyprio-Gallic Style.”
• Chilis on the world table where  Kelly Sharp in her brilliant, timely paper  “‘I got hot sauce in my bag, swag,’ The Diasporic Roots of Hot Sauce in Black American Culinary Culture.” Sharp explained that the hot chilies begun basically as a necessary spice to mask the rotten meat scraps fed to slaves. From Tokyo, Voltaire Cang talked about the unusual spice blend “Shichimi: The Spice, its Trade, and Centuries of Food Business Survival in Japan,” which I am dying to taste.
• Changing British Cuisine concluded with an intriguing paper by Yale Professor Paul Freedman about “The Savory Course at Oxford and Cambridge Colleges,” referring to ‘a small piquant dish coming after the sweet but before the dessert, a uniquely British idea.’
• Contemporary Issues included ‘The Geopolitics of Saffron and the Puzzles of Saffron Arithmetic,” by Symposium trustee Richard Shepro, who tried to explain the enormous quantities of the precious spice Spain exports, while the indisputable bulk production of saffron comes from Iran (!)
• In The Cuisines of India Sharmila Vaidyanathan finally answered my question about the use of a somewhat foul smelling/tasting spice; in “The Curious Case of Asafoetida.” She explained that ‘in strict vegetarian South Indian Brahmin communities […] asafoetida served as an alternative for aphrodisiacs like onion and garlic.’
• Flavours of Antiquity and beyond included “Food for the Soul: The Rabbis’ Cinnamon” by Susan Weingarten; also “Pound pepper and lovage: The Use of Spices in the Apician Recipe Text,” by Sally Grainger, as well as  “Pepper and Paradox in the Roman Imagination, by “Jeremy A. Simmons
• In Perceptions of Heat Gerald Zhang-Schmidt, speaking from his greenhouse, gave a fascinating talk about the varieties of Chinese chilies. Even I, although not really interested in the subject, enjoyed it enormously, especially as it was enriched with Fuchsia Dunlop‘s vast knowledge during the later Q & A session.

* * *

At last I found the time to follow the most educating Wikipedia training session with Roberta Wedge, which is offered every year before the Symposium, at the British Library. But I never happened to be in London then. Now I gained the confidence needed, and having already registered as instructed, I plan to check, edit, and maybe add some entries and/or photos to this marvelous, ever evolving online encyclopedia.

Another fascinating database, Barbara Wheaton’s The Shifter, is almost ready for the serious researchers to delve into. The demo we followed was extremely impressive!

Elisabeth Luard, a longtime Symposium chair –with a flower in her hair or wearing a fabulous hat– contributed the most interesting comments and questions to the presenters. She also created the beautiful watercolors that Jake Tilson used in the booklet/menu card for David Tanis’ lunch (see below).

From Berlin, Ursula Heinzelmann,  the Symposium director,  picked and chose with an iron hand the questions from an often long list in the chat, then  funneled them to the various distinguished scholars who chaired the Q & A sessions.

The closing keynote talk by Harold McGee “A nose dive into plant aromas’ was a revelation! Harold, one of the Symposium’s trustees, showed us the huge Vanilla plant he grows in his living room in southern California.

Talking about the many curious habits and properties of the aromatic plants, he mentioned that wild thyme often performs some sort of birth control trying not to proliferate in precarious, rocky and confined spaces. The extra difficult growing conditions make the most aromatic plants, he said. We cannot wait to read his upcoming book on the subject which will be published next year.

The Meals

Unfortunately we couldn’t taste the inspiring meals and the wines listed for this year’s Herbs and Spices theme, but we had the chance to partake in sumptuous and thought-provoking virtual lunches and dinners: Among them, the brilliant David Tanis chose to highlight “One Good Spice: the Pleasures of a Single Fragrance,” working together with Jill Norman. ‘Though there are myriad age-old spice blends used in countless traditional cuisines, sometimes it is pleasant and illuminating to concentrate on one individual spice. Each of the dishes in this menu illustrates the gist of this idea by bringing out their unique flavors,’ they wrote. The menu Tanis proposed included: Chilled Melon and Coriander Soup, Courgette (zucchini) pancakes, Roasted lamb with Crushed Black Pepper (lots of it), Onion Flatbreads with Toasted Cumin Butter, Cardamom Custard with berries, Ginger Biscuits, and Saffron Tea!

The first night’s dinner ‘Pragmatism in an Impractical Place: the Stubborn Cuisine of the Fogo Island,’ was a follow up of last year’s closing talk by Zita Cobb that had left us all wanting more; so this time she brought chefs Timothy Charles and Jonathan Gushue to plan an unusual dinner.

For Saturday Asma Khan proposed “A Spice Odyssey: Home in the Royal Courts of India.’ I don’t know much about Indian cooking but following her accompanying video, I was fascinated by her way of rolling paratha so that she created a multi-layered, crunchy flatbread. I plan to duplicated her technique with our phyllo pastry –substituting olive oil for her ghee.

One of the highlights of the Symposium was undoubtedly Sri Owen, a beloved long time participant since the first years when we used to meet at  St Antony’s college with founders Alan Davidson  and Theodore Zeldin. The short film ‘My Life in a Recipe,’ by Janice Gabriel, follows Sri as she prepares Beef Rendang, her signature dish, in her home kitchen. Rendang is an extremely interesting way of cooking meat –beef, chicken, or any other kind, as Sri explained. The meat starts cooking in a soupy coconut milk broth until the milky liquid evaporates, and the meat ends up ‘frying’ in coconut fat!

* * *

I am sure I speak for all of us who participated in the  v-symposium in expressing our gratitude to trustee David Matchett and all the others who worked seamlessly behind the scenes and made sure the complicated Zoom session run smoothly.

The multi-talented Jake Tilson once more designed  the most exquisite menus –collectors’ items.

But of course we could not get the beautiful hard copies of his cards  as we usually do. Instead he sent us high resolution pdfs of the various designs.

Maybe others are handier with their printers but, unfortunately, I could not manage to make a decent printout although I tried several times…

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Santorini fava (yellow split peas) topped with capers and herbs.

 David Tanis and Claudia Roden enjoyed the braised snails, which had previously created quite a sensation in St Catz’ kitchen as chef Michael Costa was washing them, trying to prevent them from escaping…

Greek frugal cooking –the simply braised snails in onion-tomato sauce, or the slow-cooked lamb with lemon and oregano– can show its real power in an intimate, family environment. Only when chef Michael Costa, my talented, tireless friend, accepted to leave his very busy kitchen in Washington DC and come to cook at St Catherine’s college did I decide to undertake the difficult exercise of presenting in volume, for 280 people, dishes meant for a small circle of friends and family.

The menu card, a collector’s item, was designed by the brilliant Jake Tilson. 

Passed from mother to daughter, such deliciously simple traditional dishes are devised by home-cooks who had to feed their families combining a few garden vegetables, greens and herbs, some cheese, and scraps of meat, fish or snails. This ingredient-based, seasonal and humble cuisine has no special broths or sauces, basically depending on olive oil, onions, and lemons; it can be challenging for some, but not for chef Costa.

Tsiros, smoked mackerel from Ypsilon Fine Foods in a white wine and dill vinaigrette, served on To Manna olive oil Kythera rusks, and (below) extremely aromatic island oregano from Cyclades Organics.

“Dear Michael, please accept on behalf of the Board of Trustees and myself as Chair, our gratitude – and that of all our Symposiasts –  for the magnificent feast you and Aglaia prepared for us at the Oxford Symposium the weekend before last, ” wrote Elisabeth Luard.

“Not only were the dishes utterly delicious from beginning to end – my own particular favourites being the snails (so soft and tender in that fresh tomato sauce – why would anyone want to drown them in butter and garlic?); the loza (of course); and the Santorini fava was a revelation with the salty little capers and bitter radiccio – fabulous! But above all the lamb – so simple and perfect – why would anyone ever want to cook it any other way?

All in all, a meal that will linger long in the memory, as we hope the enthusiasm and admiration of all our Symposiasts will linger in yours.  Renewed thanks for an inspirational and educational experience (most important of all, delicious!),” concluded Elisabeth Luard.

Chef Michael and I with St Catz’ chef Tim Kelsey (second from the right) and some of his wonderful team who made this dinner possible for such a crowd.

We are truly grateful to Papagiannakos and all the other Greek wineries who provided exquisite wines for the dinner.    

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PART ONE: The North and Northwest

I arrived in Kavala one day before the official beginning of the trip.  What a wise decision that was!  It gave me more time to spend in Imaret.

This incredible, five-star hotel, is housed in an historic, 1817 building, a masterpiece of late Ottoman architecture.  Hardly a place for those expecting a Ritz-like accommodation, its 26 charming rooms are full of character, one different from the other.  Their appeal is original and uncommon, but quickly grows on you as you get immersed into the charm of this structure which was originally a religious school.

There are pools and serene inner gardens, long marble verandas and arcades that offer spectacular views of the bay of Kavala and the Aegean beyond.  Looking at the bay, I enjoyed my exquisite breakfast as the golden morning sun sparkled on the water, an experience I will never forget!

Caught up in all sorts of everyday chores on Kea, even when we don’t prepare for a program or cook with our Kea Artisanal guests, I haven’t had the chance to travel within Greece for a very long time.  The invitation of Georgeann Morekas and the Baltimore Women’s Guild of the Greek Orthodox Cathedral of the Annunciation to accompany them as they explored parts of northern Greece and Crete was a most welcome change.  It was a lively, wonderful group of twenty, mostly women, several of Greek American origin, but also from diverse backgrounds –from Eastern Europe to Asia.  Our sixteen-day trip was wisely organized by Dimitri Galani of Nomad Hill, and gave us the chance to explore the rich cultures and sites of the north and the south of the country.  My role was to pinpoint, choose, and focus on traditional, as well as new and creative, local foods.

Thessaloniki

We arrived in Thessaloniki the second weekend of September, right at the start of the annual International Trade Fair.  At the Fair’s opening, the prime minister delivers an important speech about the county’s economy, and his visit coincided with ours.  The city —often referred to as ‘synprotevousa,’ the co-capital— was packed with cabinet ministers and dignitaries.

During our first lunch we occupied almost every seat of the small Mia Feta bar/restaurant, both inside and outside, on the narrow pavement on Pavlou Mela street, in the heart of the commercial part of the city.  As we were enjoying our Italian-inspired involtini (eggplant slices rolled around feta and kefalograviera cheese, then baked in a spicy tomato sauce), we suddenly noticed a commotion.  Our waiters, clearly troubled, were trying to explain to a group of people that there were no tables available; but the newcomers didn’t seem to take no for an answer and pointed to one of our tables that was half empty.  The waiter nervously came to me asking if we could, please, sit a bit more closely together to make room for the deputy prime-minister, the minister of agriculture, and their associates.  Only then did I notice the black chauffeured cars, and the plain-clothed security men, and realized that these constantly smoking men and women were, in fact, high ranking members of the government.  A similar scene, involving different ministers, was repeated the next day during our meze lunch at Igglis tavern, behind the ancient walls, in the old part of Thessaloniki.  These two, very different, small restaurants, seemed to be the locals’ best-kept secrets.

Selecting and suggesting restaurants for our meals was a lengthy process that started early last summer.  I spoke to many friends, both up north and down south, journalists and writers –not necessarily experts in food– as well as old acquaintances that live in the areas we visited, whom I hadn’t seen or spoken to for many years.  I read reviews, looked at pictures, and got some idea of this or the other restaurant my friends had mentioned.  Then I drew lists that I discussed again with my ‘advisers’ before making my final decisions.  I wanted to give my group a sample of good traditional as well as innovative foods, getting as far as possible from touristy places, or the ephemeral TV chefs’ trendy spots.

At Mia Feta we tasted creative dishes based on feta and the other cheeses produced by the Kourellas family, a creamery that has been operating since 1960.  We started our meal with a delicious, refreshing cucumber-yogurt soup adorned with thin slices of smoked octopus, and ended with a lovely fresh mint panacotta with watermelon gelée.  In-between, besides the eggplant rolls everybody loved, we had our first soft and mild, sheep’s milk cheese saganaki (shallow fried cheese) one of the many we sampled throughout the trip.  We also had skioufiko pasta with keftedes, the Greek version of pasta and meatballs in a tomato sauce, scented with cinnamon and bay leaves.  At Igglis, a more traditional 1950’ies tavern, not easy to find in the maze of Ano Poli —the upper part of the city— the saganaki was spicier, as were the soutzoukakia (oblong cumin-scented ‘meatballs’), while the imaginative salads, the fried mushrooms, and the mushroom risotto were all delicious. 

The hunkiar (unctuous eggplant puree) topped with meat ragu, the tavern’s specialty, came unfortunately late, when we were almost full and couldn’t appreciate its perfect taste. Igglis offers some of the best examples of the cooking of Prosfyges, the Greeks who came from Asia Minor –the Aegean part of Turkey– as refugees in 1922, after the defeat in the last Greek-Turkish war, and the exchange of populations agreement.

Thessaloniki has always been a cosmopolitan city, a vibrant melting pot of various ethnic and religious groups.  Many of the Jews who fled the Spanish inquisition in the fifteenth century moved to Thessaloniki “the only known example of a city of this size that retained a Jewish majority for centuries, until the middle of the Second World War.”  Unfortunately, very few Jews have been spared from the Nazi exterminations.  Some of the foods of the Sephardic Jews have been incorporated into the local cuisine, like huevos haminados (eggs slow-cooked with onion skins) while the delicate agristada inspired avgolemono, the most elegant of all Greek sauces.  In his wonderful book The Cooking of the Jews of Greece, Nickolas Stavroulakis, an old friend who recently departed, has recorded everyday and festive recipes of Jewish home-cooks from Thessaloniki and other parts of Greece.  The names of dishes may be different, but the similarities between Sephardic and Christian Greek dishes are many. In Chania, Crete, I had the chance to visit the beautiful old synagogue of Etz Hayyim, in ruins since World War II, which Stavroulakis helped restore.

Many Pontians, descendants of the refugees who fled from the Black Sea, live in Thessaloniki and in other parts of northern Greece.  To get an idea about their renowned foods we drove to Monopigado, 30 kilometers north of Thessaloniki, to dine at the spectacular estate Ktima Perek.

Besides the eponymous perek (a skillet pie stuffed with the local white cheese) we enjoyed various meze, salads and spreads, before feasting on succulent meats, roasted in the wood-fired oven.  The dense, home-made, sourdough bread baked in the same oven was incredible, while, for the first time I tasted the Pontian syron, rolled, pre-baked pasta ribbons that are served topped with a sauce of garlicky, home-made thick yogurt and butter.  Among all these delicacies, the group seemed to have particularly loved the humble potato salad, a side dish of coarsely crushed boiled potatoes, dressed with fruity olive oil and plenty of chopped scallions, parsley and dill!

Yanakohori and Metsovo

The next day, after admiring the site and the exquisite exhibits at Pella museum, and before our visit to the breath-taking Royal Tombs of Vergina, we drove to Yanakohori to see up close the famed old Xinomavro vines at Kir-Yianni, one of the oldest wine producers in Greece.

On the surrounding rolling hills, nestled in the slopes of mount Vermion, the area’s many vineyards offered an incredibly beautiful backdrop for the wine tasting we had as we were getting acquainted with the Boutaris family legacy.  Yiannis Boutaris, currently the mayor of Thessaloniki, is the first who had updated Greece’s outdated winemaking tradition, eventually putting Xinomavro, Assyrtiko, and other ‘exotic’ indigenous varietals on the international wine map.

After tasting Akakies, the crisp rosé from Xinomavro grapes, we savored the red Ramnista, the Kir-Yianni iconic label produced exclusively from the vineyards that surrounded us in this unique part of Greece.

Outside Naoussa, the area’s main town, we lunched at Tesseris Epoxes (four seasons), where we enjoyed delicious local charcoal-grilled trout, before hitting the road towards Metsovo.  Remembering the old winding roads, I was amazed how the new Egnatia highway made the drive up to the Pindos mountains so comfortable and fast.

Grand Forest Metsovo, our five-star hotel on the slope across from the picturesque village, charmed us from the minute we set foot in the contemporary, yet warm and airy building.  In the morning, at the vast breakfast buffet, we enjoyed crunchy cheese and greens’ pies made with home-rolled phyllo, and an incredible butter churned nearby, at the Tositsa-Averoff Dairy, which also produces some of the best Greek cheeses.    Wandering around the stores of Metsovo, besides some lovely wooden plates, bowls and spoons carved in the area, I came upon a large pan of Sapouné Halva, a translucent, amber-colored pudding made with cornstarch, butter and sugar.  Usually sold at village fairs all over central and northern Greece, Sapouné Halva was never a favorite of mine, until I tasted this one in Metsovo.

I am now experimenting with various recipes and shortcuts, as I will never be able to imitate the paddle-tossing of the professionals who continue this ages-old Ottoman tradition. I hope to come up with a recipe everyone will love, even without the goat’s or sheep’s milk butter that is traditionally used.

Metsovo, and the whole region of Epirus, is in the northwestern corner of Greece.  Inhabited mainly by Vlachs —descendants of a very old nomadic people inhabiting the southeastern Balkans— the small town, is renowned for its traditional pites (pies).

Pites are not flat breads, but thin pies made with home-rolled phyllo, and the Vlachs, who made them for us in Metsaovo, are famous for their pies.  A crunchy, delicious crust encloses a stuffing of greens, herbs or any available seasonal vegetables, complemented with cheese. At Galaxias restaurant, we watched a young cook roll sheets of phyllo from scratch, and make a galatopita (milk pie), which we had for dessert.  Our dinner included blatsaria, an unusual leek and greens’ pie with cornmeal crust, and rooster stewed in wine and tomato, scented with cinnamon and allspice; in its delicious broth, hilopites (homemade pasta ribbons) were cooked.  It was a variation of youvetsi, the dish made all-over the country with lamb, veal or poultry, and any kind of pasta.

(In PART TWO: The East and West of Crete)

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Spinalonga, Lasithi and Archanes

At Elounda Bay hotel, on the northern coast of Crete, the sea was warm and inviting in the late afternoon as the sun was setting.  We reached this popular southeastern resort of Crete flying from Ioannina, Epirus, to Athens, then to Heraklion, and finally driving through areas I used to know well but found so much changed.

My biggest shock was to see Spinalonga.  The islet, with its well-preserved Venetian fortress, housed a leper colony until the early twentieth century.  When I first reached its shore in the early 1970ies it was not open to visitors.

Back then I was preparing my graduation work portfolio for the Polytechnic of Central London School of Photography and I included a series of the black and white photos I took of the haunting buildings in Spinalonga.  I could never imagine back then that this desolate place would one day become such a huge popular attraction.  Groups from Russia, Italy, the UK, and the US patiently awaited their turn, under the blazing sun at the port to be guided around the island.

Leaving the sea behind we drove up the long, winding road to the the village of Agios Konstantinos, in the Lasithi Plateau.  At Vilaeti, a busy family tavern and store, Aliki, the blue-eyed owner, served us a delicious version of Cretan dolmades.

Zucchini blossoms filled with rice are simply called ‘dolmades’ in Crete; these were  flavored with a wonderful combination of home-grown herbs and spices, and accompanied by thick, home-made sheep’s milk yogurt.

Succulent, spit-roasted lamb was the main course served  with olive-oil-and-lemon-roasted potatoes; and for dessert a plate of delicate yogurt-lemon mousse with crumbled almond biscuits, and a piece of the sweetest watermelon I’ve ever tasted!

In Heraklion, I got my two favorite pastries from Savoidakis bakery. Both are stuffed with the local fresh myzithra: lemon-mastic-scented tartlets called lychnarakia, and kalitsounia anevata, brioche-like, mizithra-stuffed buns.

South of the city in Archanes, a village close to the Knossos archeological site, we lunched at Kritamon, the restaurant I came to consider one of the best I’ve been to recently –and not just on this trip. The pleasant and minimally decorated dining room and lovely patio as well as the logo and table mats were a promising first impression.

We appreciated the quiet and attentive service but above all we were enticed by the incredibly fresh, clear flavors of the various dishes we sampled; they brilliantly showcased the local, seasonal ingredients without fuss or unnecessary adornments. Everything chef Dimitris Mavrakis cooked for us was simply perfect!

The delicate whipped-cheese-spread was pleasantly spicy; a version of tyrokafteri taken to a different level with a combination of three local fresh goat cheeses instead of the usual feta.

The chunky fava (pureed fava beans, split peas, and lentils) had a deeply satisfying taste simply dressed with olive oil and topped with raw onions and pickled kritamon (rock samphire) the salty and slightly aromatic shoots of a plant that grows wild on seashores.  The stuffed grape leaves and the tomato salad with paximadi (twice baked barley bread) were the best I ever had; and the slow-roasted pork with potatoes was perfectly spiced with smoked paprika.

But it was the fried smoked cheese in sunflower-seed-crust accompanied by petimezi  (grape molasses), by far the best saganaki I ever had, that really blew us away.  We were all smitten by the perfect combination of texture and flavor!

Chania and the western mountains

Leaving Heraklion and driving to Chania, on the western part of Crete, we settled at Domes Noruz, a very unusual new hotel. Fortunately, we stayed four nights and had time to get used to, appreciate, and even love some of its unfamiliar fixtures –the split-level rooms and open-air bathtubs on the balcony.

Wandering in the town’s small roads and alleys I visited the old Synagogue in a beautiful, fifteenth-century Venetian building, that my late friend Nikos Stavroulakis helped restore.  But this was one of the rare exceptions; I was saddened to see the dramatic change all around the spectacular Venetian port.  Just like in most popular islands, boutiques, loud fast-food taverns, and tourist shops have overtaken almost every door.  Gone are the small workshops, the amazing bell foundry, and the old bakeries that offered excellent paximadia, fragrant breads, and sweets.

Even inside the old covered Food Market only a handful of stands still sold food —fish, olives, and cheeses.  Knock-off imported leather goods, T-shirts, scarves, and a myriad of cheap souvenirs have overtaken the market stands.  I guess this is the trade-off result from Chania’s success in attracting cruise ships and visitors from all over the world.

With tourists invading Chania, the locals are getting farther and farther away from the charming but tourist-flooded port. My old friend, photographer Manousos Daskaloyannis, a Chania native who is passionate about his city and the surrounding area, took me to Tabakika, a shabby seaside area where tanneries used to be.

I am sure that the rundown buildings will soon be rehabilitated; but, for the moment, barely lit by the faded light of dusk, they looked like the setting for a Medieval play. The fish tavern where we dined is a favorite of the local élite, the Chaniotes of the neighboring Chalepa district.

Manousos insisted that our group had to taste the authentic, deep-rooted Cretan foods that Stelios Tylirakis prepares.  So, braving the long, winding, and often harrowing road —especially for our big bus— we drove to Drakona village up in the stunning Malaxa mountains.

There, at Dounias tavern, Stelios cooks on live fire everything he grows in his garden: potatoes were frying in bubbling olive oil in a deep clay pot over a charcoal stove; in another stove snails were being braised with plenty of onions.  To my surprise, many from our group not only tasted, but devoured these unusual delicacies, an important source of protein during the old, frugal times.

Snails are still loved in Crete but are almost forgotten in other parts of the country.  Lamb with zucchini and potatoes was roasted in the wood-fired oven, where also the heavy, whole-wheat bread was baked.

On the menu were a lot of delicious homey dishes: squash with carrots and chickpeas, stuffed vegetables, bulgur with eggplants, baked zucchini slices with fresh cheese; humble, yet irresistibly wholesome​ and delicious foods people of this area have been cooking for hundreds of years!

Another day, the brilliant chef Yannis Tsivourakis together with his cooks at Minoa Palace, prepared in front of us some more refined traditional Cretan pecialties: finger-shaped and square pitakia (turnovers) stuffed with cheese and greens, and an enticing version of the traditional gamopilafo, the soupy risotto cooked in lamb’s broth laced with goat’s milk butter; this dish is a staple at Cretan wedding banquets.  Tsivourakis also served an impressive selection of the most important sheep’s and goat’s milk cheeses from all over the island.

Later, he brought to our table his light and airy kserotigana –extra-thin spirals of fried phyllo ribbons, drizzled with honey and sprinkled with nuts.  He also offered us deep-flavored little cakes, baked with carob flour.  Carob trees thrive between the arid rocks, all over the mountains in Crete.

From the hard carob pods, besides flour, a syrup is extracted. It used to be an ancient sweetener and now is considered a healthy ‘super-food.’

Rethymno and Kolymbari

In Rethymno, Crete’s third largest city, I was pleasantly surprised to see that many of the beautiful Venetian and Ottoman buildings have been beautifully restored, and although boutiques and gift-shops abound, there are still a few old workshops in the maze of the old city.

Octogenarian phyllo-master Giorgos Hatziparaskos rolls paper-thin sheets of phyllo dough every day.  His wife uses the freshly-rolled sheets to make bite-size baklava and other sweets, big hits among the many visitors. His son who helps him at the store plans to continue the family tradition.

In Rethymno, we had lunch at the charming garden of Avli restaurant. The chef here seemed to hesitate between ultra modern, molecular-cuisine-like bites, and some of the popular regional meze dishes.

Fortunately, he was more successful with the latter: his cheese-and-greens pitarakia (small fried pies) were excellent, as was the bulgur and mixed-grain-pilaf with zucchini, mushrooms, and shavings of local aged graviera cheese.

Our trip to Crete wouldn’t be complete if we didn’t get to taste olive oil, the island’s main product, and experience its production.

At Astrikas, a spectacular region near Kolymbari village, we visited the award-winning Biolea estate.  The young and passionate Chloe Dimitriadis —a fifth generation olive producer— explained the process of grinding the local koroneiki olives in the traditional stone mill, and then pressing the pulp between mats to get the precious liquid.

Giorgos Dimitriadis, Chloe’s father, has meticulously worked for years to update this age-old process: the mill and press that were for centuries operated by mule, donkey and human power, are now powered by electricity. 

‘We get less oil by using the traditional pressing method instead of a centrifugal machine, like most people do,” said Chloe, adding that olive oil produced with millstones and presses retains all its nutritive benefits, and is distinguished by the mild, sweet taste we Greeks appreciate.  No wonder Saveur magazine included Biolea in its list of the world’s 10 best olive oils!

At Astrikas the landscape around Biolea is stunning: olive-tree-covered hills, like a rippling valley of silver and green leaves, framed by imposing rocks and in the background, beyond the olive groves, the blue Mediterranean Sea.

The comforting beauty at this southernmost part of the country brought to my mind the rolling hills at the Kir-Yianni vineyards, way up north, in the slopes of mount Vermion, almost at the other end of Greece.  In such breathtakingly beautiful surroundings, it is not by chance, I thought, that hard working passionate people following their family traditions with love and care, produce truly exquisite products: wonderful wine and delicious olive oil!

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Sunset at the Bosporus.

Pots and casseroles at Ciya Sofrasi

Musa Dağdeviren and Marianna Gerasimos

Reddish okra in the market

Sour, unripe grapes are traditionally cooked with okra.

Dried sweet peppers ready to be stuffed hang at the market.

Palamut (small bonito) with exposed gills to attest the fish freshness.

Palamut (small bonito) with exposed gills to attest the fish freshness.

Visne (sour cherries) are used in sweet and savory dishes

Extra large Koy tomatoes from Izmir.

The baker bakes pita bread constantly at Ciya.

Ciya Kebap baked in thin bread dough and served with fresh cheese.

Ciya Kebap baked in thin bread dough and served with fresh cheese.

Rolling bulgur dolmas at Siya’s prep-kitchen

Rolling bulgur dolmas at Siya’s prep-kitchen

Musa Dağdeviren prepares his Lachmacun (Arab Pizza) at Graystone, in Napa, and he grills his exquisite Liver Kebap (see recipe).

Musa Dağdeviren prepares his Lachmacun (Arab Pizza) at Graystone, in Napa, and he grills his exquisite Liver Kebap (see recipe).

Visne Kebap –meatballs with fresh sour cherries in light tomato sauce.

Read also the wonderful NewYorker story about Musa.

I wanted to ask him how he came up with these amazing dishes, so different from the Turkish food I had known all my life. Unfortunately we had to communicate in English through an interpreter who knew little about cooking and ingredients, and this proved quite a challenge. I guess, during these first meetings, the only thing I could surely convey to Musa (pronounced Moo-SAH, stressing the last syllable) was how much I loved his food, and he probably liked mine, because he asked me to write for his magazine. Besides being an incredibly talented chef, Musa is also a passionate scholar, and this is obvious if you leaf through Yemek ve Kűltűr (Food and Culture), his wonderfully produced monthly publication that explores the history and roots of various dishes, ingredients, and cooking techniques. Unfortunately the texts are in Turkish and have not yet been translated.

“Marianna can translate whatever you want to write for the magazine,” he told me through the interpreter. He was referring to the Greek-Turkish author and researcher Marianna Yerasimos, whose book 500 Years of Ottoman Cuisine, is one of my favorites, a book that I consult often. Marianna lives in Istanbul, and seldom comes to Greece, let alone the island of Kea, where I live, so for years we were exchanging e-mails and phone calls. She is as passionate about food as Musa, and she often writes for Yemek ve Kűltűr. Meeting her in person and going with her to Ciya, Musa’s restaurant, was a dream of mine that I finally realized last month.

The 45-year-old chef has been all over the U.S. and English press: three years ago Paula Wolfert called him “Master Chef” and “culinary anthropologist” in her Food & Wine column, numerous U.K. publications raved about his food, and last April Elif Batuman did a wonderful piece about him for the New Yorker. Don’t think, though, that Musa is the Mario Batali of Turkey. Far from it! His is the kind of food that connects with many of the new working-class residents of Istanbul because it reminds them of their mothers’ village cooking. It also appeals to sophisticated traditionalists, probably not a large category of Turkish foodies. In his country—much as in mine—chefs that are praised abroad tend to be smirked at by the local bloggers and food writers. If his restaurant was a very expensive venture in a glitzy part of Istanbul, these same foodies—who blog in detail about Dan Barber and Jean-Georges—would probably look at him differently; strange as it may sound, though, Musa does not wish to be famous. He just wants to continue his incessant research, reviving yet more almost-forgotten dishes and adding them to the vast repertoire of his restaurants, the menus of which follow the seasons strictly.

The first Ciya Kebap opened in 1987 and later Ciya Kebap ΙΙ followed. In 1998 Musa and his wife launched Ciya Sofrasi. This last one is the chef’s pride, the place where he serves stews, pilafs, and salads—dishes that women in the poor villages of Anatolia cook at home, foods of the poor that very rarely appear on restaurant menus. All three Ciyas are near one another in Kadiköy on the Asian side of Istanbul, a 20-minute ferry ride from the buzzing Taksim, far from the flamboyant Sultanahmet. In this spectacular, traffic-plagued city on the Bosporus, ferries often replace the subway, and we reached the pier and swiped a metro-like card to pass through the automatic gates and board.

Once we were on shore, Marianna guided me through the busy roads of this old neighborhood, bypassing imposing construction sites to reach the relative calm of the pedestrian streets of Kadiköy. Before going to Ciya Sofrasi we wandered through the vibrant market that surrounds the restaurants. I marveled at the variety of fruits and vegetables still on the stands in September: plump sour cherries and green unripe grapes that in Greece are available only early in the summer. But Turkey is a vast country with varied landscape and diverse climates, hence this enviable abundance. I couldn’t stop photographing the display of silvery palamut (small bonito), their bright red gills exposed to assure customers of their freshness. Stopping at Marianna’s favorite spice shop—although she lives on the European side she likes to shop here—I got the most wonderful Urfa pepper; semi-dried sumac berries, not just the usual powder; and incredibly fragrant turmeric.

When we at last arrived at Ciya Sofrasi’s entrance, a multicolored display of casseroles and pots welcomed us. Musa was waiting and led us to a table to drop our shopping before showing us around and introducing us to his cooks and assistants. The baker makes fresh pita constantly in a pizza-like oven where he also bakes the restaurant’s signature kebap: chopped beef with walnuts, wrapped in thin pita dough and served with fresh cheese, parsley, mint, and sumac. At the basement, in the immaculately clean prep-kitchen, a young woman was rolling flawlessly identical dolmas stuffed with Musa’s perfectly spiced bulgur, tomato, and pepper paste mixture.

There are so many things I would like to ask Musa, so many foods to decipher, but speaking through an interpreter is always frustrating!
As we sat down the plates started to arrive: the Zahter Salad—more pungent with its local herbs than the Napa recreation; a flavorful muhamara (red pepper dip) and the cigar-like dolmas followed. Then we were served tiny okra stewed with sour unripe grapes—an ancient Anatolian combination—and a dish of warm, wilted, yet still crunchy lettuce leaves in a silky yogurt sauce with fresh mint and tarragon, which I found irresistible.

Urfa Kebap Patlicenli, spicy ground beef balls skewered interchangeably with cylindrical long eggplant pieces, were grilled so that the eggplant obtained an enticing smoky and meaty flavor. To serve this kebap Musa un-skewered the meat and vegetables and rolled them on warm pita, adding chopped onion, parsley, and a sprinkling of sumac. Most of his kebap are half-meat, half-vegetable, creating wonderful combinations inspired by the old-time Mediterranean way of using precious meat frugally. “Ekonomiani bil,” (learn to economize) Marianna said, and Musa laughed, as they both remember a much-repeated childhood slogan. As the little plates kept coming I enjoyed every bite enormously, finally forgetting to take notes and just tasting with pleasure, so some dishes have probably gone unremarked on, but certainly not forgotten. But I will never need a note to recount the last dish: Vişne Kebabı—meatballs with fresh sour cherries in a light tomato sauce with onions. It is Musa’s fruity version of a Gaziantep dish with roots in Syria. “It has to be made with lean meat and fresh vişne (sour cherries),” he explained, dismissing the common heavier Middle Eastern variations made with dried or frozen fruits.

Musa dedicates a part to of the very attractive Ciya website to “vegetables” and shows pictures of 25 unusual greens from Anatolia and the Black Sea that he uses throughout the year; but the captions are in Turkish only. Our two countries have so much in common, and we share culinary roots far beyond the few greens in the pictures that I often harvest from my garden. Unlike many food experts in both sides of the Greek-Turkish border, Musa refuses to take part in the long-lasting heated debates regarding who first invented dishes like dolmades, trahana (or ksinohondro), and pita. Like me, he believes that peasant recipes and cooking techniques are related to geography and each region’s produce, not to a specific ethnic group. There are so many things I would like to ask him, so many foods to decipher, but speaking through an interpreter is always frustrating! While I was yearning to have long conversations with Musa about the similarities and differences of our food, and learn more about the wonderful fresh, dried, and preserved ingredients he sources from all over Turkey, I had to let him and Marianna discuss food politics and future articles they were planning for the magazine.

And this brings us back to my urgent need to learn Turkish.

Recipe: Cartlak Kebap (Liver Kebab With Onion Salad)

Recipe: Zahter Salad (Fresh Thyme, Parsley, and Onions in Pomegranate Molasses Dressing)

Recipe: Biber Cacigi (Pepper and Yogurt Spread)

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