Greek Food Recipes and Reflections

Foodbuzz 24, 24, 24: My Big Fat Greek Baptism

2009-10-25T22:56:00.000-07:00

One year ago, I posted a FoodBuzz 24, 24, 24 submission entitled Greek Food Hospital-ity, detailing a Greek food night I put together for the staff at Mount Sinai Hospital - 7 South Ward, in celebration of our son’s birth. Days prior, and after my wife Sophie had spent almost three weeks in the hospital’s High Risk Pregnancy Ward, Ilias was born premature at 28 weeks gestation. My son went on to spend another couple months in the hospital’s Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU) until he was ready to come home. One year later, on the occasion of our son’s Baptism and First Birthday, I am happy to report that both Ilias and my wife are well, and our son continues to flourish as a healthy, happy, and sociable baby boy.

Achilles being baptised in the river Styx by his mother, Thetis, from a 19th Century French lithograph

By this point, almost everybody knows that weddings are a Big Fat deal for Greeks. Of lesser renown, but of no less importance to us, is the custom of Baptism as a naming ceremony. The ritual is the first of the sacraments in the Orthodox Church. It is a day of celebration which is seen as a natural fulfilment of the marriage bond between a man and a woman. At your wedding, friends and relatives wish you a speedy passage to parenthood; at your baptism they express their wish to be present at your wedding. The two go hand in hand.

The practice of infant baptism in the Orthodox Church goes back over eighteen centuries and has evolved into a highly ritualized affair. I will not go into any great detail describing the ceremony, but there are a few points that I will touch upon. Unlike the Roman Catholic Christening rite in which water is trickled over the head of the child, Orthodox baptism involves complete immersion in a large copper or chromium font - the child is stripped down to their birthday suit and dipped three times into the water. In addition, the godparents who stand as sponsors for the child during the ritual are charged with anointing the infant completely from head to toe and in the mouth with handfuls of olive oil. Ilias’ godmother, made sure to pick up a bottle of Iliada brand Greek olive oil for this purpose, in honour of my son’s name, which is an eponym taken from the ancient title of the Iliad: Ilias (ΙΛΙΑΣ).

The baptism ceremony took place at the beautifully illuminated Saint Nicholas Greek Orthodox Church in Toronto, with Fr. Nicholas Alexandris presiding over the affair. We were late getting to the church as I had what I’ll classify as a ‘wardrobe malfunction’. Suffice it to say, we held up the proceedings a tad while my pants were stitched up. My tailor will be hearing about it, believe me!

The beautifully decorated interior of St. Nicholas Church

When things finally got under way, everyone played their assigned part. The priest performed the age-old ritual without a hitch, the godparents dutifully cupped their hands for the olive oil, the photographer danced about all of us snapping away, I tried video recording and taking some photos of my own, and my son went up into the air and down into the water bloomp without a squawk. Usually, babies cry uncontrollably when they are baptised, but my son surprised everyone by laughing and kicking his legs as if he were splashing about in a wading pool; it was super cute, and even the priest was smiling!

Fr. Nicholas Alexandris smiling as he baptizes our son

After the dunking, Ilias had his gold baptismal cross from his godparents blessed and placed around his neck. At this point, the ritual completed, our son was dressed in the customary white outfit his godparents had picked out for him, and then, we were off to the Arkadia House restaurant for the traditional baptismal reception.

Our guests for the afternoon meal totalled 98 adults and 26 children. Service began with an appetizer plate composed of a selection of dips which included tzatziki, taramosalata, scorthalia, and hummous. This was accompanied by some pan-fried squid or Calamari, which was followed by an iceberg lettuce salad with a creamy feta cheese dressing. For mains, the choices included grilled salmon, chicken breast, or filleted pork loin, and a vegetarian penne pasta dish. The food was excellent. The wine served was Cava Camba Red & Cava Camba White from Boutari, both very drinkable.

For anyone looking for some good Greek food in the east end of Toronto, I highly recommend the Arkadia House Restaurant. The meals were well-prepared, the portions were generous, the service was good, and the price quite reasonable. Two thumbs up!

Ilias and some of the food that was served in his honour

All of which brings me to the final element of our meal: the sweet table. Family members spent the better part of two days preparing the traditional Greek desserts we served our guests. We had sliced baklava rolls, Greek shortbread cookies (kourabiethes), fried pastry pleats drizzled in honey (diples), walnut & honey-syrup cake (karythopita), and an assortment of freshly cut fruit. In addition, we had two cakes from the celebrated St. Phillips Bakery; one of the cakes was strawberry shortcake and the other was a chocolate ganache layer cake, the former was for his Ilias’ baptism, the latter was for his first birthday. Before serving dessert, we sang “Happy Birthday” for Ilias, and fed him his first taste of cake.

A selection of the desserts and cakes served in Ilias' honour

All in all, we had a wonderful day filled with family and friends. Our son smiled, cooed, giggled, laughed, kicked, wriggled, yelled and cuddled his way through the entire affair. This served to tire him out by the end of it all, which allowed his mother and me some moments of respite from the long day’s events. When we got home, we wound down with a few shots of Skinos Mastiha (a mastic liqueur). Our son’s Big Fat Greek Baptism was a beautiful celebration and one of the most important events in our lives. The fact that we were able to celebrate his birthday at the same time was a bonus! We want to thank our friends and family who attended the event, particularly Ilias’ godparents, as well as the many well-wishers who sent their kind sentiments through the Internet via Twitter, Facebook, etc. We also want to thank the good folks at FoodBuzz for choosing our 24, 24, 24 submission and giving us a chance to share our family’s special day with a wider audience.

Pánta Kalá! (Always Be Well)

Sam Sotiropoulos
Greek Gourmand™
http://www.greekgourmand.com
Greek Food Recipes and Reflections
Copyright © 2008, Sam Sotiropoulos. All Rights Reserved.

Cretan Dakos, or Koukouvayia (Owl) - Ντάκος

2009-09-30T20:55:00.000-07:00

I have returned from my Blog Interruptus with a tale of autumn adventures on the island of Crete, along with a recipe for all those tomatoes in the pantry. Enjoy!

Cretan Dakos - Click to Enlarge Image

In my travels about Greece, I have been to Crete twice. The first time I touched foot on the legendary isle of King Minos, I spent a day there as one leg of an Aegean culture cruise; we visited Knossos and the Herakleion Museum. I was so inspired by my visit to the former that I was left with a burning desire to return someday and see more of that famous isle. As I sailed away that first time from the Cretan shoreline, I half-expected Talos to appear along the coast to see me off...

Years later, I landed on Cretan soil again. This time, I spent a couple months exploring the island by foot, motorbike, and boat. It would not be an exaggeration to say that my sojourn there had the character of a sacred pilgrimage, or perhaps it was something akin to an initiatory walkabout or rite of passage. In every way that mattered, I was committed to seeing Crete's wild places and exploring her backcountry, and to learning about her people and their folkways. In short, I was intent on immersing myself into the geist of the place. Yes, my purpose was to commune with the very spirit of Crete herself. With that in mind, I threw myself upon the tender mercies of the Fates.

I arrived in Herakleion in mid-September and stayed on Crete till mid-November. The weather was generally good, the tourist season was over, and the seas were at their warmest having been heated by the sun all summer long. During my visit, I camped on shorelines, slept in hostels and hotels, was a guest in private homes, and once, I even spent a frigid night in a desolate shepherd's redoubt on the upper slopes of Mount Ida (Psiloritis). Suffice it to say, I gained an intimate knowledge of Cretan topography; from the island's northern shoreline to its southern beaches and meandering coastlines, I immersed myself in the landscape. I traversed Crete's mountainous backbone on foot, starting from the mythical Idaeon Andron and the Nidha Plateau, and ending up in the great Messara Plain on her southern flank.

This course brought me into contact with Crete's people and history in a manner that few tourists get to experience anymore. Best of all, I kept a careful journal of my Cretan travels which allows me to relive most aspects of that trip. I am grateful for the experiences themselves, as well as the opportunity to share them with others.

Interestingly enough, I was aided in my efforts to discover the Cretan way of life by an Englishman and his half-Greek wife. If Steve, or Tina Pryor, ever read these words, I want them to know that our meeting remains an inspirational highlight of my life. I thank them for introducing me to Crete, and to their little village of Axos, which lies in the afternoon shadow of Mount Ida (Psilotiris). The two of them welcomed and shepherded me into the bosom of that most ancient land. I shall never forget their generosity.

Crete is a universe unto itself. From her bustling port cities on the northern shore, to the timeless isolation of hamlets in out of the way inlets along her southern coast, there is something for everyone on Crete. In a popular Greek song, Nikos Xilouris refers to Crete as "the key to Paradise", and I am convinced that he was correct. Which brings me to another salient point.

The Cretans are natural poets. To this day, they maintain a wonderful facility with a syntactical arrangement that forms the basis of Greek folk poetry and verse: decapentesyllabic (fifteen syllable) rhyming couplets. Try saying that ten times fast! In any given situation, a Cretan is able and quite willing to produce a ditty-on-the-spot, if you will. At such moments, they will be able to cleverly rhyme off something playfully erotic or satirical. These couplets are called mantinades and they are usually accompanied by the plaintive strains of the Cretan lyra. It really is marvellous to observe, most especially after a few glasses of tsikoudia, a grape marc spirit (Cretan 'moonshine').

Along with all her physical beauty, her mythology, history, poetry and music, Crete offers one more bounty for restless spirits: the Cretan diet. Much has been said or written about the cuisine of Crete and I will not exhaust the topic in this post. Suffice it to say, the Cretan diet in all its simplicity and salubrity is the original inspiration for what is today known as the "Mediterranean" diet.

As we are inundated with a surfeit of tomatoes from this year's kitchen garden, I have been using them up as quickly as possible. One of my favourite ways to enjoy an unconventional tomato salad is the Cretan Dakos, or as it is also called, Koukouvayia (Owl), pronounced as "koo-koo-VAH-yee-ah". My understanding is that it takes this name from its resemblance to the eye of an owl when viewed from above. This owl-eye effect is even more pronounced when two Dakos are placed side by side on a plate.

Owl's eye view - Click to Enlarge Image

Ingredients:

Cretan barley rusks
Fresh tomatoes, diced
Real Greek Feta cheese, crumbled
Greek extra virgin olive oil (try Kolympari, an excellent Cretan olive oil)
Fresh mint. finely chopped
Dried Greek oregano
Red wine (optional)
Olives

Soak the Cretan barley rusk slightly w/water or a splash or two of red wine and set aside for a couple minutes.
Drizzle the rusk with olive oil and let it sit for another couple minutes until the oil is absorbed, then drizzle another tablespoon or so over top of it.
Combine the diced tomato with the chopped mint and top the rusk with the mixture, then add the crumbled feta cheese, a pinch of oregano, and another touch of olive oil.
Finish by placing an olive on top of it all.

Serve and enjoy!

Pánta Kalá! (Always Be Well)

Sam Sotiropoulos
Greek Gourmand™
http://www.greekgourmand.com
Greek Food Recipes and Reflections
Copyright © 2008, Sam Sotiropoulos. All Rights Reserved.

The Taste of the Danforth

2009-08-08T19:36:00.000-07:00

Every year for the past 16 years, the city of Toronto goes Greek for a weekend. The annual "Taste of the Danforth" street festival is one of our city's premier summer events; and it's all about the food, especially the Greek food. Since its inception, this yearly fete has grown to become North America's largest event of its kind. When all is said and done, over 1 million visitors are expected to attend "The Taste" this year.

The most striking aspect of "The Taste" is the sheer size of the crowds. It really is quite a spectacle; day or night, it's a people watcher's delight. In the first photo below, the view is looking east from Chester Avenue along Danforth Avenue, into the heart of Toronto's Greektown. All along the street, people line up to purchase all manner of tasty eats, or they stroll leisurely along one of Toronto's major city roadways. For the three days of "The Taste", Danforth Avenue is closed to vehicles and only pedestrian traffic is allowed. The second photo is a shot of the beer garden in the "Alexander the Great Square", located at the intersection of Logan and Danforth Avenues.

Click to Enlarge Image

What would a Greek themed street festival be without pork souvlaki? Yiannis, one of my past co-workers, is pictured grilling it up outside the Astoria Restaurant. Or, if you prefer seafood, you can always try a shrimp souvlaki, or some grilled squid tentacles from Avli restaurant, as pictured below.

Click to Enlarge Image

I'd wager that my brother's chums, Jimmy and Nick, from Kalyvia restaurant did not sleep a wink as I found them in exactly the same spot, two days running, cooking up chicken and pork souvlaki sticks. And for those of you who like a good gyros, there was plenty to go round and around. ;-)

Click to Enlarge Image

One interesting sight this year was a group of individuals dressed in 5th century BC Greek hoplite outfits. These folks are part of an organization called Hoplologia whose purpose is the re-creation of the past through what they call "experimental archeology". In addition to the food and history, it would not be a Greek festival without some Greek music, courtesy of Yiannis Kapoulas & his band Ena K’ Ena.

Click to Enlarge Image

Last but not least, the sweets: loukoumades, baklava, and kataifi... I think this picture says it all.

That's it for this year's "Taste". There is no doubt in my mind that this annual event is one of the greatest foodie extravaganzas on the planet. So, if you're in our neck of the woods next year, and you enjoy Greek food, be sure to visit Toronto's original and best street party.

Opa!

Sam Sotiropoulos
Greek Gourmand™
http://www.greekgourmand.com
Greek Food Recipes and Reflections
Copyright © 2008, Sam Sotiropoulos. All Rights Reserved.

Revani (Ρεβανί)

2009-08-06T19:20:00.001-07:00

According to the Greek Orthodox Christian calendar, today is the Metamorphosis (Transfiguration) of the Saviour. The Greek word for "saviour" or "deliverer" is Soter (Σωτήρ), and my Greek name is Sotiris; which makes this my Name Day. In point of fact, my name is an epithet which pre-dates Christianity among the Greeks. The term, Soter, has been used as an epithet for Olympian gods, ancient heroes and liberators, and most recently, as a title for Jesus of Nazareth.

A thing of beauty! - Click to Enlarge Image

For Greeks, Name Days are more important than birthdays. Indeed, it is on one's Name Day that a party in honour of the individual is held, usually at the celebrator's home. Name Days are a time for family and friends, and the day is filled with visits and phone calls from well-wishers. The traditional greeting for someone who is celebrating a Name Day is "Chronia Polla" (Χρόνια Πολλά), which translates as "Many Years"; similar to, though less specific, than the Italian "cent'anni" or "Hundred Years".

Among the most popular features of a Name Day celebration are the desserts which are prepared (or bought) for the occasion. Along with copious amounts of Greek food, visitors are always treated to a sweet "for the health" of the honoured individual. The treats are often family specialties which are served up with a glass of water, a coffee, or a shot of liqueur, usually Ouzo or brandy.

This year, I prepared one of my own specialties for the occasion, it is called Revani. Revani is essentially a syrup-soaked semolina cake. Traditionally, Revani is a specialty of the city of Veria in the northern Greek province of Macedonia. There are a number of regional variations of this cake throughout Greece. In some Revani, nuts like almonds or walnuts are added, in Veria they add yoghurt to the mix, and I have even run across a Revani with a chocolate centre. My Revani recipe is lighter than many of the other versions, and rather than adding them to the mix, I prefer to garnish it with some chopped blanched almonds and/or candied orange or lemon rind.

Allow me to treat you to some Revani in honour of my Name Day. Enjoy!

Ingredients:

6 eggs
2 cups fine semolina
1.5 cups of flour
1 cup of sugar
0.5 cup of unsalted butter
0.5 cup of milk
3 tsp. baking powder
1 tsp. vanilla extract

For the syrup:

2 cups of sugar
2 cups of water
1/2 cup Greek blossom honey
juice and rind of 1/2 a lemon (or orange)

Sift together the semolina, flour, and baking powder.
Cream the butter in a mixer until the butter is light and fluffy; usually this takes about half an hour or so, with the mixer set to a medium-high speed.
Add sugar to creamed butter and mix well for a few minutes.
Add egg yolks to the butter and continue to mix well for several minutes.
Whip the egg whites into stiff peaks.
Add the flour to the mixing bowl in stages, alternating with either some milk or some of the whipped egg whites; continue until all three are added and mix everything well.
Pour the mixture into a 9 x 9 inch square baking pan and bake in a preheated oven at 350 for approximately 45 minutes, until the surface is golden brown.
Prepare the syrup by adding the 2 cups of sugar, 2 cups of water, the honey, lemon juice and rind in a saucepan and bring to a boil; allow it to simmer for 10 minutes or so.
When the cake is done, remove it from the oven, place it on a trivet, and proceed to pour the syrup overtop of the entire cake using a spoon or ladle. Pour the syrup slowly in order to allow for a complete and uniform suffusion of the cake. Note: save the candied lemon rind and chop it up into small pieces for use as a garnish for slices of the cake.
Set the cake aside to cool, preferrably overnight, cut into diamond shaped pieces and serve as is with a sprinkle of cinnamon, or with a garnish of chopped blanched almonds and some of the candied rind (which we saved from the syrup).

Pánta Kalá! (Always Be Well)

Sam Sotiropoulos
Greek Gourmand™
http://www.greekgourmand.com
Greek Food Recipes and Reflections
Copyright © 2008, Sam Sotiropoulos. All Rights Reserved.

Grilled Banana Pepper Salad (Πιπεριές Ψητές με Φέτα)

2009-08-05T14:08:00.000-07:00

The summer grilling season ensures a steady supply of grilled vegetables on our table. One of my father's favourite salads during this period is also one of the most notorious in our family.

Grilled hot banana peppers - Click to Enlarge

I'll never forget the day I first sampled this recipe. You have probably walked by them a thousand times in the vegetable section wherever you shop, and yet, you may never even have given them so much as a second glance. Here is what I often think about whenever I see hot banana peppers in a market:

My father proffered a plate and slid a cousin of one the beauties from the photo above on to my dish. He instructed me to roll it up, slip it into a wedge of folded pita, and take a large bite. My mother, meanwhile, warned me not to listen to my father, that the pepper was too hot. But, I was a child, and a wilful one at that, so my mother's warning served as nothing more than the equivalent of a challenge. I did as my father instructed, though, instead of just taking a bite, I shoveled the whole thing into my mouth and started chewing. After all, how hot could it be?

Well, friends, the scene that ensued is etched into the very corners of my mind for it quickly developed into a wholly disproportionate series of events. We're talking about a Greek family here... In a nutshell, the script consisted of a mad scramble for water, which, when put to my burning lips, ended up going down the "wrong pipe". This resulted in a spasm of ugly choking, fiery coughing, my father's backslapping, my sister's wailing, the rooster crowing, the cattle lowing, the cymbals crashing, the lightning flashing, the seas heaving, the earth shaking, my mother's scolding, and me, ultimately crying. Ha! Who would have thought such dramatic moments could follow the simple act of consuming a humble pepper with a bit o' cheese and stuff?

But, do you think such an episode served to dissuade me from ever eating hot banana peppers again? Sister, it didn't even leave a scar. Also, it provided some valuable insights regarding the tragic hilarity of family politics. I am definitely a better and stronger person for it. Life in a Greek family has its spicy moments.

I have a few things to say regarding prep for this dish. First, don't bite your fingernails, you'll need them to quickly and effectively peel the peppers. Second, peel the peppers when they are hot and keep your finger tips moist. Third, handle the peppers gently so as not to tear them, and try to peel away large sections of the charred skin. Lastly, a little bit of real Greek feta cheese goes a long way. I used no more than the equivalent of three tablespoons of it, crumbled over top of the peppers in the photo above.

If you wish to tone down the heat a bit, carefully slit the grilled peppers open and remove some or all of the seeds. Banana peppers come in a variety of heat intensities, so proceed at your own risk. As far as Greek food recipes go, this one's about as easy as they come. Add a little heat to your summer sizzle.

Ingredients:

hot banana peppers (a.k.a. Hungarian or wax peppers)
real Greek Feta cheese
Greek extra-virgin olive oil
dried Greek oregano
Greek wine vinegar
NOTE: Yes, I use Greek products as much as possible as I deem them to be superior quality, especially the cheese, here's why.

Grill peppers until charred and peel.
Spread peppers flat on a serving dish and add crumbled Feta cheese over top of the peppers.
Drizzle a little olive oil and a some wine vinegar over everything.
Finish with a sprinkle of oregano and serve.

I usually serve this alongside grilled chicken or pork.

Kali Orexi! (Bon Appetit!)

Sam Sotiropoulos
Greek Gourmand™
http://www.greekgourmand.com
Greek Food Recipes and Reflections
Copyright © 2008, Sam Sotiropoulos. All Rights Reserved.

Food Philosophy: Geeks & Greek Gastronomy

2009-07-20T07:49:00.000-07:00

From time to time I get to chat with some pretty extraordinary foodies who are just as enthusiastic about food related matters as I am. Recently, I had the opportunity to meet Jennifer Iannolo & Chef Mark Tafoya of the Culinary Media Network when they visited Toronto on a foodie media junket. Now, I had been following their work for some time prior to actually meeting them, and let me just say that we became immediate and fast friends in person as well. I cannot wait till I see the two of them again. I want to wish them every success with their newly published cookbook. Both Jennifer and Mark are very special people; they truly live their passion about food and we are fortunate to be able to share it with them. Thanks to them both for being who -and doing what- they are.

Jennifer, myself, and Mark by the water in Toronto, April 5, 2009

A couple weeks back, Jennifer and I had a chat over Skype which turned into an informal interview of sorts. We discussed practically everything under the sun, but more specifically, we touched on matters that relate to the topic of Greek food and Greek gastronomy more generally. Both of us being GEEKS about food matters, we meandered back and forth through times, places, people, animals and products; and what resulted is, if nothing else, an interesting window on a conversation between two people (both students of Philosophy) who are literally crazy about food. Jennifer has posted the first part of our conversation on her web site, with another part to follow shortly. I hope you enjoy the talk as much as we enjoyed having it.

Here is the link to the post and audio file on Jennifer's web site: Food Philosophy You can listen to the show online or you can download it to your iPod through iTunes.

Amiably,

Sam Sotiropoulos
Greek Gourmand™
http://www.greekgourmand.com
Greek Food Recipes and Reflections
Copyright © 2008, Sam Sotiropoulos. All Rights Reserved.

Greek Food Feature: Feta Cheese (Φέτα)

2009-07-12T20:37:00.000-07:00

This is the first posting in a new series of spotlight articles on Greek food products and ingredients which I will be presenting on this blog.

A slab of Feta served up in classic Greek fashion - Click to Enlarge

My grandmother used to make her own cheeses. When I was a child, I used to love watching the woman set herself on a small wooden stool for the milking of the sheep and goats. She would call for me to bring the collection pails and I would run to fetch them. As she milked the swollen teats of the ewes and does, I would offer to help, but she always refused saying that the animals required practised, familiar hands. So, I had to content myself with helping her by swapping the buckets when she instructed. She always made sure to leave some milk for the sucklings; and there was always a cup of warm milk set aside for me, before she thickened the rest and drained off the whey from the curds for cheese-making.

Although she used rudimentary equipment i.e., wicker baskets, muslin cloths, wooden moulds, and an ancient wooden barrel, the cheeses my grandmother obtained were always surpassingly excellent. She often made Myzithra, which is a whey cheese made from sheep and goat milks. Yiayia (Greek for grandma) also made a phenomenal sheep's milk Feta cheese that was so creamy and rich it coated the palate and throat as you swallowed. To this day, I salivate when I think of her cheeses. Pasteurization was not part of her cheese-making process which meant her cheeses were of such character and flavour that they remain an unparalleled gastronomic experience for me to this day.

When she reached her nineties and could no longer tend the animals, my grandmother reluctantly slaughtered or sold the remainder of her flock and put aside her milking implements for the last time. It was not an easy thing for her to do; she resisted, but the family was insistent as she was starting to have age-related health issues. She reluctantly acquiesced. It was decided that she would spend the winters in Athens, living with my aunt. I happened to be working in Glyfada (a posh seaside Athens suburb) that winter and I was staying with my aunt as well, so I did my best to help Yiayia with the transition.

I remember taking her shopping with me one morning. A new supermarket had opened just down the street and we went to pick up a few things. One of the items I had on my list for purchase was Feta cheese. When we got to the cheese counter and placed the order, my grandmother asked the clerk to give her a sampling of the Feta I had selected. He provided us both with a small piece of the cheese. I popped the sample into my mouth and turned to look at my grandmother. I found her sniffing at her piece, as if it were some kind of foreign substance she was trying to identify by its scent. She made a face and then gingerly placed the cheese on her tongue and closed her mouth. She grimaced, turned to the clerk and began shaking a wizened finger at him, demanding to know what it was that he was trying to sell us. The man assured her that it was Feta cheese, and I nodded in agreement, feeling somewhat embarrassed by Yiayia's outburst. She snorted at both of us, and said in a matter-of-fact tone: "Any shepherd knows how to make Feta! I don't know what this is, but it's not Feta!" Both the clerk and I tried to explain to her that the milk for store-bought Feta was pasteurised according to government "health" regulations, but she refused to accept our explanations. After all, she was 90 years old and had been making and eating unpasteurised cheeses all her life! She kept on about it long after we had left the supermarket.

Many years later, and many, many miles away, I often remember my grandmother's outburst that day in the supermarket and I smile wistfully. How right she was! How different the world I live in from the world she knew; even the cheeses had changed, and not for the better. Traditionally, Feta cheese is a sheep's milk cheese. But, due to the high demand for sheep's milk for cheeses and other products such as Greek yoghurt, admixtures with goat cheese are quite common. However, by Greek law, no more than 30% of the milk used for Feta can be from goats. The best traditional Greek Fetas are still made exclusively from ewe's milk, and the very best Fetas are unpasteurised. But, these latter are only produced in very limited quantities by small artisan producers. Unfortunately, you will have to travel to the Greek countryside and know where to go to sample unpasteurised Feta.

Today, you will find all kinds of things being sold as "Feta" cheese throughout the world. Here in North America, you'll find flavourless cow's milk brine cheeses being sold as "Feta" in supermarkets and cheese shops. Such cheeses often include things like milk and whey protein powders, as well as caseinates and/or casein among their ingredients. You will even find imported "Feta" cheese from France! The French and several other European countries (notably Denmark & Germany among them) started producing, selling, and exporting ersatz "Feta" cheeses in the early 1980s, as Greek Feta had begun to make a name for itself in the global marketplace. Of course, such cheeses are not Feta cheese as the original is a traditional artisan product of the Greek countryside, and not the French Riviera, the Jutland, or the Rhineland. Indeed, Feta cheese is the oldest variety of cheese in the world and has been produced in Greece since antiquity. The cheese produced by the Cyclops in Homer's Odyssey is quite likely the direct ancestor of modern Feta. An explicit description of Feta cheese under its medieval Byzantine-Greek name of "prosfatos" dates back to the 10th Century A.D., at which time it was an already well-known and well-traded cheese throughout much of the Eastern Mediterranean.

As a result of Danish, French, and other attempts to capitalize on the widespread fame of the Greek Feta cheese brand, in an effort to end consumer confusion and to protect the good name of its traditional cheese products, Greece was forced to seek remedy in the European Court of Justice. After a lengthy and protracted legal struggle (20 years!), in 2005, Greece was finally granted exclusivity with respect to the use of the label "Feta cheese" within the European Union. Feta was declared a P.D.O. product of specific regions in Greece. In other words, within Europe, only the traditional Greek product can be referred to as "Feta cheese". Of course, this decision of the European Court of Justice did not (and still does not) apply to overseas markets. French and Danish exporters continue to market their counterfeit "Feta" cheeses in North America and elsewhere outside the EU. Quite ironically, the French zealously demand that their own traditional product names be respected the world over (i.e. Champagne can only come from France; ibid Roquefort cheese etc.), and yet, they blatantly disregard Greece's rightful claim to one of the most recognizable of all traditional Greek food products. Tu devrais avoir honte! Shame.

Greek Feta cheeses are far tastier and have superior organoleptic properties when compared to the copycat products opportunistically labeled as "Feta" by the Australian, British, Canadian, Danish, French and U.S. producers who continue to exploit the "Feta" brand. From the way it crumbles, to its creamy texture and unique fresh flavour, Greek Feta cheese is the genuine article. Do not be fooled by imitations. In Greece, Feta cheese accounts for well over half of the 27.3 kilos of cheese the average Greek consumes in a year. No other nation eats as much cheese, not even the French.

So, what makes Greek Feta cheese so special?

It should be emphasized that Greek sheep and goats are raised by individual/family producers and not large agri-business concerns. The animals are indigenous breeds, and they graze freely on the wild vegetation of the Greek countryside. The milk used in Greek cheese production is collected from these animals. As a result, Greek cheeses are ipso facto organic products even though they may not be labelled as such. In addition, many of the herbs and plants the animals feed on are also unique to Greece's specific geography and climate, which accounts for the distinct flavour of Greek cheeses. Along with consuming a wide variety of wild herbs and flora, Greek sheep and goats are watered from natural springs and sources. The combination of all these factors lend Greek cheeses their wholesome flavours and account for their overall high quality.

A selection of Greek cheeses: Feta, Kefalograviera & Kasseri - Click to Enlarge

I cannot think of another variety of cheese which is as popular, versatile, nor as tasty as good old salty, crumbly, briny, Feta cheese. It can be eaten on its own, baked with vegetables or into pies, crumbled over salads, served with fruits and honey, or fried. With so many ways to enjoy it, Feta cheese has earned its place as a mainstream food product in many parts of the world. Yet, it is too bad that much of what is marketed as "Feta" outside of the European Union is not actually Feta cheese. Simply put, if it's not Greek, it's not Feta!

Recommendation: If you can find it, try "Feta Tripoleos" (i.e. Feta from the area of Tripolis). Many of the better cheese shops in most large cities should stock this cheese, ask for it by name or by requesting Greek "barrel Feta".

Recipe:

1 slab of authentic Feta cheese
dried Greek oregano
Greek extra-virgin olive oil

Plate the feta, sprinkle a generous amount of oregano over top and then pour some olive oil over it. Serve with warm pita bread and some Kalamata olives.

Kali Orexi! (Bon Appetit!)

Sam Sotiropoulos
Greek Gourmand™
http://www.greekgourmand.com
Greek Food Recipes and Reflections
Copyright © 2008, Sam Sotiropoulos. All Rights Reserved.

Grilled Biftekia Stuffed with Cheese (Μπιφτέκια Γεμιστά)

2009-05-21T15:51:00.000-07:00

As the season for outdoor grilling is upon us here in the Northern Hemisphere, I decided to post one of my favourite Greek grill recipes. I know you are going to enjoy this one.

A grilled Bifteki stuffed with Kefalograviera cheese, served with some mushroom rice – Click to Enlarge

Greeks have a reputation for grilling. From the hecatombs of the Greek host encamped on the shore before Troy in Homer’s Iliad, to the family-run diners of New York City, the association between Greeks and grilling is the stuff of culinary legend and lore. Indeed, if we were to believe some people, we might expect upon visiting Greece to find a charcoal grill set up every 50 square metres or so; with a smiling, apron-wearing and mustachioed Greek man sending smoke signals up into the Mediterranean sky. Of course, nothing could be further from the truth. Yes, Greeks enjoy grilled foods, but rarely do they prepare them at home; it is simply not part of the everyday food culture, most of our home-cooked meals come from the stovetop. This is not due to the high cost of barbecues, but rather, when they are meeting or entertaining friends, Greeks prefer to go out on the town for some grilled viands.

Although there are plenty of establishments serving up grilled and spit-roasted foods throughout Greece, we do not generally consume as much meat as the rest of our European cousins. Meat, for Greeks, usually means lamb, goat, pork, chicken and sometimes veal. In point of fact, you'd be hard pressed to find a steakhouse after the North American model in Greece. There are some, but steaks and ribs are not what Greeks think of when it comes to grilling. There is precious little space for domestic cattle grazing in Greece. What beef they do import is cut differently than is customary in North America. So, looking for a T-bone steak in a Greek butcher shop is likely to end in disappointment.

If you do happen to find steak on a menu in Greece, and you actually order it, don’t be surprised if it arrives well cooked when you ordered it medium rare. Greeks, like Jews, have an aversion to blood in cooked meats, so they cook meat in one of two ways: well done or well-done. Any Greek who tells you they have a penchant for blood in their meat, likely picked up the preference outside of Greece.

Now, Greeks grill everything from fish, to meats and vegetables. Souvlaki, especially pork souvlaki, is the most popular grilled item in Greece. It usually consists of small chunks of pork butt/shoulder on bamboo skewers (kalamakia), and is served up drizzled or brushed with ladolemono (lemon, olive oil, oregano) sauce, and only rarely with tzatziki unless it is in a pita sandwich.

Along with souvlaki and assorted sausages, another popular item that you will find on the menu of every proper Greek taverna (a restaurant that serves only Greek food) is “bifteki”, which is the singular form of the plural biftekia. Biftekia are essentially minced meat patties, something akin to burgers but thicker, and without the bun and condiments of the familiar American sandwich. Biftekia may be made with minced lamb or veal, or a combination of the two. The primary difference between biftekia and burgers lies in the herbs which impart their flavours to the former. The use of oregano and thyme, along with fresh parsley and grated onion, sets biftekia apart from the rather bland meat patties which are their popular counterparts in North America.

Now, for a taverna story...

In July and August 2007 my wife and I travelled through northern Greece and spent a few days in Thessaloniki. We wandered afoot throughout the town and both of us found it a charming and refreshing antipode to Athens with her teeming, bustling streets. Thessaloniki is a port city and the sea forms a continual foreground along its shoreline. It is a pleasant town for walking, especially at night along the quayside after a meal at an open air taverna.

The famous White Tower on the waterfront of Thessaloniki - Click to Enlarge

One of the most memorable meals we had in that city was at a little taverna in the historic "Ladadika" ('Oil Shops') district of the city; the shop was called "Ladokola sta Ladadika" (Λαδόκολα στα Λαδάδικα) which translates as “Parchment Paper among the Oil Shops”. Along with the other dishes we sampled there that night; we were served a selection of grilled meats that was brought to us on some parchment paper spread over a wooden cutting board. This rustic manner of service is a common practice in the Greek countryside, especially during festivals. Nothing pretentious about being served in this fashion, and boy, was it ever tasty!

The view down one of the streets of Thessaloniki’s Ladadika district – Click to Enlarge

The selection of grilled meats we enjoyed that evening – Click to Enlarge

We had a superb leek & pork sausage, a couple of tasty pork souvlakia, and two very excellent biftekia served to us in the outdoor evening air of the trendy district. At some point during our dinner, a trio of young boys showed up with their musical instruments. Sitting on the edge of the square’s fountain, they played a couple of small sets to entertain the dining audience at the numerous restaurants around the edges of the square. Appreciative listeners responded with tips for the young ensemble, which the percussionist dexterously deposited into the open bottom end of his Toumberleki drum. Our table happened to be near the fountain and the whole affair had such a charming quality that I had to record it for posterity's sake. You can find the video of this impromptu performance appended to the Greek Food group on Facebook.

This recipe for cheese-stuffed, grilled biftekia is a favourite in our household and it makes for a tasty start to a summer grilling season. When it comes to the cheese used for the stuffing, I recommend either Kefalograviera (which is the cheese that is usually served as a “flaming saganaki”) or some real Greek feta cheese. I usually serve biftekia with a side of either rice cooked in a mushroom stock, or fries done in olive oil; and I round the meal out with a refreshing and simple cucumber salad.

Ingredients:

2 lbs ground lamb or veal (or a combination of the two)
1 lb. Kefalograviera or Feta Cheese
2 medium-sized onions, grated
2 eggs
1 cup bread crumbs
1 tablespoon dried Greek oregano
2 tablespoons dried Greek thyme
1 tablespoon Greek extra virgin olive oil
Small bunch of fresh parsley, finely chopped (approx. 3 tablespoonfuls)
Fresh ground pepper
Pinch of salt

In a large bowl, use your hand to combine the minced meat, grated onion, eggs, bread crumbs, parsley, seasonings and olive oil. Take care to mix everything together until thoroughly mingled into a single cohesive mass.
Take up a tennis ball sized piece of the meat mixture, roll it between your palms to form a smooth, compact ball.
Spread a piece of parchment paper over a cutting board; flatten the meat ball into a thin patty, about 1/4 of an inch thick or so. Try to ensure a uniform thickness to the patty.
Place a piece of Kefalograviera or Feta cheese on one side of the flattened meat patty (as depicted below). Be sure to leave space around the edges of the cheese to ensure that you can pinch the meat closed around the cheese.
Take up the further edge of the parchment paper, bring it up and towards you to fold the meat patty over the cheese. Pinch the overlapping edges of the meat together well; use the parchment paper to form the patty around the cheese. This will result in a uniform shape to all of your biftekia.
Brush or spray the outside of each patty with a little olive oil before placing them over a medium-high heat. Grill the biftekia for about 6 - 7 minutes on each side or until done.

Makes approximately 6 - 8 biftekia

NOTE: A sprinkling of fresh lemon juice always completes preparation for service as the biftekia are removed from the hot grill.

Placing the cheese and folding the bifteki patty with the parchment paper - Click to Enlarge

Uniformly shaped patties cooking on the grill - Click to Enlarge

What to drink with this meal? Well, you can drink whatever you like, but here is my suggestion for a holistic Greek food immersion: some ice cold "Retsina Malamatina". Retsina wines are resinated, which means they are flavoured with pine tree resin that gives them their distinctive taste and unique character.

A bottle of ice cold Retsina Malamatina served in its own glass - Click to Enlarge

This type of wine has been produced in Greece since Classical antiquity. The taste for the resin in the wine is definitely an acquired one; it is a direct gastronomic holdover from the ancient Greeks who sealed their wine amphorae with pine resin to ensure airtight and waterproof stoppers. Over time the resin seeped into and flavoured the wine which was stored in this fashion. With the passing of millennia, the methods of storing wine changed, yet the Greeks had developed a taste for resinated wines and the flavouring was subsequently added by intent; the practice continues into our own day. As the Malamatina brand of Retsina is produced in Thessaloniki, I thought it would be a fitting accompaniment to a grilled Greek food recipe that included a description of a typical meal in one of that city's tavernas.

Bifteki stuffed with feta cheese and served with fries cooked in olive oil - Click to Enlarge

Ladies and Gentlemen, light your grills and let the BBQ season begin!

Kali Orexi! (Bon Appetit!)

Sam Sotiropoulos
Greek Gourmand™
http://www.greekgourmand.com
Greek Food Recipes and Reflections
Copyright © 2008, Sam Sotiropoulos. All Rights Reserved.

Grandma's Pligouri (Πλιγούρι της Γιαγιάς)

2009-05-10T19:53:00.000-07:00

Whenever I make this dish, I am reminded of my Yiayia (Grandmother, in Greek). As today is Mother’s Day, I wish to dedicate this posting to all our Greek food foremothers. Where would we be without them?

A vegetarian Greek food recipe courtesy of my Grandma - Click to Enlarge

My paternal grandmother was a remarkable woman. She was mother to seven children and maintained a country household complete with chickens, goats, sheep, pigs, donkeys and a mule. She died just over a decade ago; yet, her memory continues to manifest her ongoing presence in my family’s daily experiences in some form or another. In many ways, this posting is my Grandmother’s eulogy, the one I was not present to deliver when she left us.

While my grandfather (already mentioned) worked and irrigated our family’s fields and olive plots, Grandma multitasked about the hearth and home. She swept the house and yard, made the cheese, baked the bread, and prepared the daily meals. She did so without complaint and without ever considering her role as demeaning or beneath her in any way. Indeed, quite the opposite, she viewed her life as dignified and fulfilling, and she woke each morning with an unwavering sense of purpose and a true zest for clean country living.

My Grandmother in her kitchen garden at 91 years of age – Click to Enlarge

Yiayia’s kitchen garden included everything from tomatoes, zucchini plants and beanstalks, to wild greens like amaranth; and herbs such as mint, rosemary and laurel. The exterior of the house itself, along with the courtyard and verandas, were shaded by a network of trellised grape vines which produced enormous clusters of reddish-skin grapes in their season. A trio of olive trees, a small grazing field, a circular stone threshing floor, stables, pens, and a large chicken coop completed the property which was my Yiayia’s domain. She ruled it all with an effortless economy of activity which remains fixed in my memories of the woman. In point of fact, my grandmother was the cement which held my father’s family together. My grandfather adored her and deferred to her judgment in most things.

With sheep, goats, and donkey grazing in the background, my grandparents pose with my sister and myself in the shade of an oak tree – Click to Enlarge

In addition to tending the house, raising the children, grazing the animals, and handling the household finances, Yiayia would rise well before dawn on Friday mornings and trek 23 kilometres to Megalopolis, where she would sell excess produce and trade for other goods in the weekly agora (market). Upon conclusion of the day’s business in the city, she would return again by foot to the village (until a regular bus service was instituted); arriving just before nightfall to resume her role of materfamilias. Not surprisingly, both my grandparents were the very definition of the phrase ‘hale and hearty’, and both lived well into their nineties, active and sharp-witted right to the end. Their lifestyle and diet had everything to do with their lengthy and vigorous lives.

One of the ingredients which figured prominently in my Grandmother’s pantry was pligouri (known as “bulgur” in English). Pligouri [pronounced “plee-WOO-ree”] has been a staple of Greek food for many millennia. On the island of Crete, it is still called by its ancient name hóndros, and on some islands in the eastern Aegean Sea it is known as koptó. Pligouri consists of whole wheat kernels that have been parboiled, dried, and crushed. It comes in three textures: fine, medium, or coarse. Served on its own or as an accompaniment to other dishes, this foodstuff is a more nutritious alternative to rice, potatoes, or pasta. It is cheap, easy to prepare, has a very low glycemic index, and makes for a satisfying dish every time.

A close up of my pligouri recipe – Click to Enlarge

When making pligouri, my Grandmother would add any number of available seasonal ingredients to the pan to enrich the flavour of the dish. My favourite additions included mushrooms, golden raisins, pine nuts, and chestnuts, all of which I have included in this version of her original recipe. On its own, pligouri has a slightly nutty flavour, but it is basically tasteless. So, you can add any number of different nuts, dried fruits, herbs and vegetables (or even snails) to a pligouri recipe, this version is one of my favourite vegetarian combinations.

Ingredients:

1 cup (250ml) medium bulgur
2 cups of vegetable or chicken stock (or water with a bouillon cube)
1 medium sized onion, diced well
½ cup of roasted chestnuts, peeled & cut in half (approx. 12 chestnuts)
¼ cup of pine nuts
1 small handful of golden raisins (sultanas)
1 tablespoon of butter
1 tablespoon Greek extra virgin olive oil
1 tablespoon petimezi (Greek grape must syrup)
½ cup of chopped mushrooms
1 tsp. (5 ml.) of ground cumin
Salt & pepper to taste

In a medium sized sauce pan, sauté the diced onion in the butter and olive oil over a medium heat until soft. (3 minutes, or so)
Add the mushrooms, raisins and pine nuts to the pan and continue to sauté for another 2 minutes, stirring regularly.
Add the stock, cumin, salt & pepper to taste to the pan; turn the heat up to medium high and bring to a boil, then add the pligouri (bulgur) to the pan along with the petimezi and cook it while stirring well for about 3 minutes or so. [Note: if you cannot find any petimezi, some Greek thyme honey makes a good substitute.]
Add the halved chestnuts to the pan, stir it well, then cover the pan with its lid and lower the heat to medium low; allow it to simmer for 20 minutes or so, until all the liquid is absorbed.
Uncover the pan, give the pligouri a good mixing from the bottom and sides, and cover the pan with a tea or paper towel before replacing the lid (I do this to eliminate any steam water buildup in the lid from running back into the pan when we uncover it for serving). Remove from heat and set aside for 10 minutes.

Makes 3 – 4 servings: as a meal in itself or as an accompaniment to grilled viands. Garnish with sesame seeds, both black and raw.

There you have it, as nutritional and toothsome a dish as any Greek yiayia would recognize and enjoy. The sort of meal she might even want to pass on to her grandchildren, so that they too might develop a taste for simple and wholesome fare. Perhaps they would also see the value in it and pass it on to their own children in turn. In just this manner, traditional Greek food stretches back into the ages of ages.

Happy Mother’s Day, Yiayia! Happy Mother's Day to All Mothers Everywhere!

Pánta Kalá (Always be Well),

Sam Sotiropoulos
Greek Gourmand™
http://www.greekgourmand.com
Greek Food Recipes and Reflections
Copyright © 2008, Sam Sotiropoulos. All Rights Reserved.

Greek Easter Lamb Roast 2009

2009-04-23T15:21:00.000-07:00

From the most ancient times, the preparation and roasting of entire lambs has remained a trademark Greek food specialty. On Greek Orthodox Easter Sunday, Greece is blanketed from the mainland to the islands in a cloud of aromatic roasting smoke rising from the myriad of slowly turning spitted lambs. Out here in the Diaspora too, the tradition continues to be passed on to successive generations from father to son, just as it always has been.

The cooked rear haunch and lamb saddle (loin) of our family’s 2009 Easter lamb - Click to Enlarge

As far back as I can remember, there has never been an Easter Sunday celebration in my family that did not include a whole spitted lamb roasting slowly over charcoal. When it comes to Greek food, the spitted lamb roast is the main event. As the Eastertide is a time for family, I thought I might reflect on my own as I make my report on this year’s Paschal celebration. I always get sentimental round this time of year. There must be something in the spring air which stirs memories that run deep in the marrow. As this year was also my son’s first Easter, the occasion had an added element of significance for myself and our family.

My brother-in law, Kosta, my aunt Dina, my son, Ilias, and my wife Sophia, look on as my father (off-camera) carves lamb meat off the spit - Click to Enlarge

My paternal grandfather was a larger than life figure for me as a child. He was something of a cross between Zorba the Greek and a Hellenic Paul Bunyan; an intense mustachioed man who was a legend in the village for his stature and strength. (As an aside, the word mustache derives from the Doric Greek mystax "upper lip, mustache," which is related to mastax "jaws, mouth," or literally "that with which one chews," and is related in turn to mastic - mastiha in Greek, from which we get the English word masticate.) My grandfather was a devoted family man who sired four sons and three daughters. He lived well into his nineties, ninety-four I believe; and even just prior to his death, his hand-grip remained as tight as an iron vise. As though it were yesterday, I remember the first time I watched him slaughter a spring lamb.

My grandfather (left) and my father (right) dressing the spring lamb in 1978 - Click to Enlarge

It was a solemn affair, and mercifully quick. My father assisted him, and I stood above them on the veranda overlooking the courtyard of our home in the village and watched the entire proceeding. I was 10 years old.

The flagstone paved courtyard had a drainage channel about a hand span in width that ran through the centre of its length and emptied into the kitchen garden. At the point where this gutter passed near to the well, my father laid the lamb down on its side and pinned its hind and forequarters in place. My grandfather lifted the animal’s head and drew the sharp blade across its neck in one quick and deliberate motion. The lamb was bleating loudly when the blade cleaved its windpipe and the sound ended in an abrupt gurgling as the blood sprang from its neck and gushed right into the channel; in diminishing pulses it drained quickly along the slight incline down into the garden. My father lifted the animal’s hindquarters and when the bright crimson stream had ebbed away, he trussed its hind legs and hung it from a hook for dressing. My grandfather washed away the remaining stream of blood in the runnel with a bucketful of water, and then he set himself to the task of skinning, emboweling, and butchering the lamb.

It is a scene that is as vivid in my memory today as it was in the moments the impression was first made three decades ago; an indelible reminiscence, the sights and sounds of which I shall take with me to the grave. Nevertheless, rather than turn me off of eating lamb (or meat altogether), the gravity and ritualistic air of the entire event had whetted my appetite. I was positively eager to taste the flesh of the animal my grandfather had sacrificed for our table.

To this day, I remain a devotee to the succulent flavour of spit-roasted lamb. As much as I enjoy other meats, there is really nothing like it. From the cooking aroma, to the crisped skin basted with ladolemono sauce (olive oil, lemon juice, oregano, salt & pepper), to the mouthwatering meat of the saddle and tenderloin; it is a truly special meal.

Due to (wrong) forecasts of inclement weather, we roasted our lamb & kontosouvli just inside the shelter of the garage - Click to Enlarge

This year, we ate at my parents’ home and my father prepared the lamb along with the kontosouvli (essentially a giant pork souvlaki, the recipe for which can be found here). We had mayeiritsa (lamb offal soup in an egg-lemon sauce) which is the traditional meal eaten to break the fast after Lent; typically this is served upon return home from the Easter weekend’s midnight mass, very early Sunday morning. It is really quite an excellent soup if you don’t have any issues with organ meats, as among Greeks no part of the lamb is wasted. The lemon juice is the key ingredient.

In addition to the lamb and kontosouvli, Easter Sunday’s afternoon table included two whole spit-roasted chickens, my mother’s lemon-garlic roast potatoes, my Aunt Dina’s vegetable rice, a small mountain of spiral spanakopites (spinach pies), copious amounts of extra garlicky tzatziki sauce, slabs of feta cheese, and a mixed greens salad tossed in a balsamic vinaigrette with dried cranberries and sunflower seeds. After this, our desserts consisted of an assortment of Greek holiday biscuits, my Aunt Dina’s cheesecake, my mother’s ravani (a syrupy semolina cake), and the star of the show, my chocolate tsoureki! Once dessert and coffee had been served, the egg battles began.

My brother-in-law Kosta’s damaged egg after clashing with my father - Click to Enlarge

The egg battle (tsougrisma in Greek, pronounced TSOO-greez-mah) is a typically Greek thing as it is a competition, and Greeks love contests of any kind. Heck, we invented the Olympics! Anyway, the challenge involves each of the guests selecting one of the many (typically) red-dyed hardboiled eggs that are brought to the table to act as their ‘weapon’. Then, turns are taken by pairs in smacking each other’s eggs together in order to crack your opponent’s egg without damage to one’s own, thereby ‘winning’. The winners continue to challenge one another until there is only one egg left unscathed, and its handler is declared the victor. It is considered good fortune to hold the final un-cracked egg in your hand and the honour is sought in good-natured earnest by all. Smiles abound during these egg battles, and fun is had by everyone, even the vanquished.

All in all, we had a wonderful Easter and there was plenty of good wholesome food to go around. Our company of ten family members welcomed its newest member, our son, Ilias, to its traditional Easter celebration, and a good time was had by all. For my Greek and Eastern Orthodox friends: Χριστός Ανέστη! (Christ has Risen!)

Pánta Kalá (Always Be Well)!

Sam Sotiropoulos
Greek Gourmand™
http://www.greekgourmand.com
Greek Food Recipes and Reflections
Copyright © 2008, Sam Sotiropoulos. All Rights Reserved.

Chocolate Tsoureki (Τσουρέκι Σοκολατένιο)

2009-04-17T12:04:00.000-07:00

In August 2007, my wife Sophia and I visited the northern Greek province of Macedonia. We stayed for several days in Thessaloniki where we admired and sampled the sights and tastes of the beautiful port city. This recipe was inspired by that visit.

My Chocolate Tsoureki - Click to Enlarge Image

Tsoureki is essentially a Greek brioche style of sweet bread. The flavours of this bread consist of a hint of orange combined with mahlepi and a subtle essence of mastic (mastiha). It is usually made at Easter and is a universal element in the celebration of this most important holiday of the Greek calendar. Such braided breads are an ancient tradition among Greeks.

The inspiration for this variation on the traditional tsoureki came from the storefront window of one of Thessaloniki’s best known bakeries, Τερκενλης (Terkenlis), which has been serving up its famous pastries since 1948. Today, Patisserie Terkenlis has several locations, mostly in Thessaloniki, with two shops in Athens, one of which is located at the Eleutherios Venizelos Airport (Greece’s main international airport).

The Terkenlis window display in Thessaloniki, my inspiration - Click to Enlarge

I used my Tsoureki: the Bread that Swallows its Tail recipe which I posted last year to make the traditional loaves. I usually bake three tsourekia (plural), one of which we keep and the other two go to our godchildren. As my godson Nicolas has a nut allergy, I do not use any nuts or ingredients that may have come into contact with nuts when baking the loaves. So, whereas the Terkenlis version of this chocolate covered tsoureki includes a chocolate filling, I avoided it altogether on baking day. This morning, after the other two loaves had been delivered to Katrina (our goddaughter) and Nicolas, I decided to give our remaining loaf the Terkenlis touch and blanketed it with chocolate and a sprinkling of slivered blanched almonds.

The two tsoureki loaves which went to our godchildren - Click to Enlarge

The recipe for the chocolate covering could not be easier. I used 2 cups of semi-sweet chocolate chips and two tablespoons of vegetable shortening (Crisco, in this case). I melted the chocolate combined with the shortening in a double boiler pan, mixed it well until smooth, and proceeded to pour the covering over the entire tsoureki loaf, starting with a thick layer along its centre; and then doubling back over its length until it was fully covered. I used an icing spatula to spread it over any bare spots. Next, I blanched a small handful of almonds, slivered them and sprinkled them overtop. The result was quite impressive, and a good likeness to the tsourekia we had seen in the window of Terkenlis.

Once more in all its glory - Click to Enlarge

With that, I would like to wish all those who are celebrating Greek Easter this Sunday a Kalo Paskha / Καλό Πάσχα (Happy Easter)! May the sun shine for Sunday’s spitted lamb roasts, wherever you may live, in Greece or in the Greek Diaspora. For those of you who have Greeks living in your neighbourhood, the likelihood that the scent of roasted lamb will waft your way on Sunday will make for an excellent opportunity to get to know your neighbours better, and to sample some excellent Greek food. Trust me; they will not turn you away should you decide to pay them a visit.

I will leave you with a description of the Easter celebration among the Greek Evzones in the 1930s by an American writer present at the time:

I shall never forget my visit one morning to the Evzone barracks at the edge of the royal gardens. In truly Homeric manner great numbers of lamb carcasses were being roasted over pits where the embers of pine branches glowed and sputtered as the scorched fat dripped down. The glistening “Arnakia a la Palikare” were tended by stiff-skirted Evzones of the royal guard, happy with virile gaiety, basting, jabbing, the slowly turning lambs. On that memorable Sunday morning the smells from the crackling fat and the smoking pine boughs joined together and rose on the clear spring air like most fragrant incense to the gods. Back, back, year by year, I thought as I watched them, that same ceremonious culinary rite had been carried out in that ancient land; the same odour of roasting lamb flesh and charred boughs had risen on the spring air since the dawn of time.

Kali Anastasi / Καλή Ανάσταση (Happy Resurrection)!

Sam Sotiropoulos
Greek Gourmand™
http://www.greekgourmand.com
Greek Food Recipes and Reflections
Copyright © 2008, Sam Sotiropoulos. All Rights Reserved.

REWARD: $100 Mastic Shrimp Saganaki Bounty

2009-04-13T11:49:00.000-07:00

Have you not noticed how often they became silent when you approached them, and how their strength left them like smoke from a dying fire?
-excerpted from Thus Spoke Zarathustra by Friedrich Nietzsche

My Mastic Shrimp Saganaki recipe - Click to Enlarge Image

Dear Friends & Foes,

My apologies in advance for what you are about to read. As my longtime readers can attest, this is an atypical posting for me, but one that I feel is necessary after many repeated provocations by a certain individual and his cronies, whom I have collectively and affectionately dubbed as the "CoD" (Confederacy of Dunces). This will be my one and only statement on the matter, so I thank you to please indulge and humour me just this once.

A blowhard and a freeloading mama's boy has publicly insinuated that I fraudulently claimed to have created the unique combination of my Mastic Shrimp Saganaki recipe. As I do not normally engage in mean-spirited and petty arguments, I will allow you, my readers to form your own conclusion as to the veracity of my/his claim.

To sweeten things up somewhat, I am offering a bounty of $100 to anyone who can find a recipe for Mastic shrimp in a tomato sauce, similar to or exactly like my own, that was verifiably published before mine (in Greek or in English). It saddens me to have to waste precious life moments on the fatuous charge made by a scoundrel, but the Internet is full of people who say whatever they like, and who think they can get away without ever being called to account. Now, IF (and that’s a big IF) I unwittingly represented the combination of shrimp, mastic, and tomato sauce as my own creation when it was not, then I will be happy to recant my claim and pay out the $100 to anyone who can prove such is the case.

Now, who said Greek food wasn’t interesting?

:-)

Kali Orexi! (Bon Appétit),

Sam Sotiropoulos
Greek Gourmand™
http://www.greekgourmand.com
Greek Food Recipes and Reflections
Copyright © 2008, Sam Sotiropoulos. All Rights Reserved.

Mastic Shrimp Saganaki (Γαρίδες Σαγανάκι με Μαστίχα)

2009-04-07T03:16:00.000-07:00

This is one of my Greek food signature dishes. I created this recipe for my wife and it is now her favourite shrimp dish. For those of you who are unfamiliar with mastic resin, have a look at my previous post about this extraordinary spice.

My Mastic Shrimps served over of a bed of rice - Click to Enlarge Image

Here in North America, the term saganaki often refers to a Greek fried cheese that is set alight to resounding shouts of “Opa!” In truth, the word saganaki refers to a single-serving frying pan with two handles. In Greece, a saganaki can be a fried cheese, or it can be a shrimp saganaki and/or a mussels saganaki, both of which are usually tomato sauce based dishes and typically include Feta cheese. If this is confusing, no worries, it’s all Greek food to me too!

Shrimps in the pan and ready for turning - Click to Enlarge Image

This particular version of my dish does not include the Feta cheese as it is meant to be a fast-friendly recipe. Easter is just around the corner and many Greeks observe the Lenten fast during this period which means dairy is a no-no. If you are not fasting, feel free to add the Feta cheese as mentioned below. You can also halve the quantities of ingredients as listed for a single serving portion. In addition, if you happen to have some good olive bread on hand, it makes for an excellent complement which allows you to mop up every last bit of this unbelievably tasty sauce.

Ingredients:

20 - 24 large raw shrimp, shelled with tails on
2 cups strained tomato puree/sauce
2 medium sized onions, diced
4 garlic cloves, pressed or grated
1 roasted red pepper, diced
2 tablespoons masticha liqueur
½ teaspoon ground mastic resin
½ cup Greek extra virgin olive oil
Salt & pepper

Sauté diced onions in olive oil over a medium heat until soft and translucent (3 - 5 minutes).
Add garlic to the pan and stir it in well for about 30 seconds. Then, add the tomato puree/sauce to the pan, along with the diced roasted red pepper and a half cup of water, then the salt and pepper to taste and stir it well to mix. Bring to a boil.
Reduce the heat only slightly and allow the sauce to simmer well for 8 minutes; do not cover the pan.
Add the masticha liqueur along with the ground mastic resin to the sauce and stir well to incorporate. Continue to simmer the sauce for another 2 minutes, stirring the sauce a couple more times.
Quickly add the shrimp to the pan and make sure to give the pan a couple shakes to settle the shrimp well into the sauce. Cook for two minutes. Then, using a pair of tongs or a fork, quickly turn all the shrimp over and cook for another minute or so, then remove the pan from the heat for serving.

I often serve this recipe over a bed of rice and garnished with some sesame seeds. as depicted in the photo above. It is equally good with pasta, especially spaghetti or linguini noodles. Or, you can simply eat it on its own with some olive bread as already mentioned. Also, if you are not able to find the mastic liqueur, simply add another teaspoon of the mastic resin to the sauce when cooking. Lastly, a cup of crumbled Feta cheese can optionally be added to the pan just before you remove it from the heat for serving.

If you are interested in obtaining high-quality pure mastic resin or any other mastic products, drop me an email: greekgourmand[at]gmail.com

Kali Orexi! (Bon Appétit),

Sam Sotiropoulos
Greek Gourmand™
http://www.greekgourmand.com
Greek Food Recipes and Reflections
Copyright © 2008, Sam Sotiropoulos. All Rights Reserved.

Mastic (Μαστίχα)

2009-04-06T20:41:00.000-07:00

From time to time, I like to mix a reflection or two in among my Greek food recipes. Today’s topic is one that really tickles my fancy. As far as spices go, there is surely none more unique or rarer than the mastic resin from the Greek island of Chios, birthplace of the poet Homer.

Pure mastic resin "tears" - Click to Enlarge Image.

Mastic (or ‘masticha’ as we say in Greek, pronounced “mahs-TEE-ha”) is a resin produced by an evergreen shrub, Pistacia lentiscus, which is related to the pistachio tree. The word 'mastic' is derived from the ancient Greek verb ‘mastikhein’ which means “to chew”. The English word “masticate” (to chew) is derived from this root as well.

While the mastic shrub, also known as skhinos in Greek or lentisk in English, does grow elsewhere in the Mediterranean region, the mastic spice resin is only produced in the plots of the Mastic-Villages or Mastichochoria (Μαστιχοχώρια) in the southern end of Chios. It is believed that undersea volcanoes in this area of the Aegean Sea affect the local climate and account for the unique “crying” of the lentisk trees on Chios, from which the mastic “tears” are harvested. It should be noted that the Chian mastic trees also grow in a red soil that is peculiar to the island and is also thought to be the result of volcanic activity. Mastic production has been the primary concern and monopoly of the Mastichochoria for at least 2,400 years and likely much longer. One 17th Century chronicler had this to say about the Mastic harvest on Chios:

There are above 30 Villages upon the Island, which are inhabited, most by Greeks; those who belong to the Mastick villages, to the South-ward have their hair long. The time for gathering the Mastick is in August and September. The Customer goes out to the Village where they receive him with musick, and feasting. What Mastick is gathered is all delivered to the Customer, for the Grand Signiors use, and he soon dispatches it up to Constantinople to serve in the Seraglio for several uses. What remains of the Grand Signiors store, the Customer sells to merchants. It is very dangerous for the inhabitants to keep any Mastick by them...

When any company of women meet in Turkey, some Mastick is brought them on a server, and each taking a little, they are chewing and spitting most of the time. It is comical to see the old women roale it about their gumms; the effect which they find by it are that it carries away the flegme, cleanses and prevents the aking of the teeth; and causes a sweet breath.

Mastic resin is the original chewing gum. Recently, I watched an episode of The Hour, with host George Stroumboulopoulos, in which it was stated that chewing gum was invented in Mexico. Nothing could be further from the truth. The earliest mention of mastic resin used for chewing is found in a fragment of an ancient Greek Comedy dating back to the 5th Century B.C.

The ancient Greeks chewed mastic for fresh breath and to clean their teeth, a practice that was picked up by the Romans and Byzantine Greeks, along with later medieval Europeans including the Venetians, Genoese, and then the Ottoman Turks in their turn. Mastic was also reputed to have a salutary effect on gum disease, stomach distempers and other gastrointestinal ailments, and was thus considered a medicine by ancient medical practitioners; evidence for this can be found in the writings of Hippocrates, Dioscorides and Galen. Thus, it is hardly surprising that the island of Chios was a much sought after commercial prize by occupiers from both East and West. After the Romans came the Byzantines, after them the Venetians, then the Genoese, and after them came the Ottoman Turks; and finally, a return to full Greek control again in 1923. Yet, the importance of the mastic harvest was such that, even under Ottoman rule, the Mastic-Villages were allowed a form of self-government under their own parliament. Today, mastic cultivation, harvest and production continue on the island of Chios, pretty much unchanged in practice and tools since antiquity. Some 2 million mastic trees are cultivated and harvested by members of the Mastic Producer’s Association of Chios, which is comprised of some 5,000 persons from the 24 Mastichochoria.

The manner in which mastic is harvested is as unique as the resin itself. The “kendos” (mastic harvest) begins in June and continues through to September. It is a very labour intensive process and is done completely by hand. The ground beneath each mastic tree is scrupulously cleared and a layer of fine white clay sand is spread about the base of the shrubs. A series of arch-shaped incisions are made in the trunk and larger branches of the trees with a special tool known as a “kentitiri”. The mastic resin seeps forth from these incisions and coagulates into crystallized resin “tears” which drop (or are scraped) onto the surface of the white sand below. It is then harvested via a sifting process, cleaned, and selected according to grades. The grades of mastic resin quality are based on levels of purity and are divided into 5 grades. The highest quality mastic is the purest form of the resin and is considered Quality 1, whereas Qualities 3 – 5 can contain small pieces of the tree’s bark, leaves, or other detritus.

The ancient Greeks also produced a mastic oil, and the mastic resin was further used to flavour wines, a practice which survives today in the form of Mastikha spirit. Here in Ontario, a mastic liqueur is available in select L.C.B.O. stores under the brand name Skinos and it is imported by the Kolonaki Group Inc. The traditional mastic based spirit is known on Chios as Mastikhato, though it is usually referred to simply as Mastikha.

A bottle of traditional Masticha liqueur from my stock - Click to Enlarge Image

Today, mastic resin is widely used in culinary, medicinal, cosmetic and pharmaceutical applications the world over. Modern researchers have found that mastic resin aids in the healing of peptic ulcers by killing Helicobacter pylori which can also cause gastritis and duodenitis. Furthermore, mastic oil contains perillyl alcohol, which has been found to be effective in both the prevention and treatment of some forms of cancer as it arrests tumor cell development. Mastic resin also effectively absorbs cholesterol thereby diminishing the chances of heart attacks and lowering high blood pressure.

Mastic flavoured spoon sweet that is served dunked in a glass of water - Click to Enlarge

In Greece, mastic resin can be found in numerous commercial and homemade products. It is used as flavouring for liquors, chewing gum, pastries and spoon sweets (along with other desserts), ice creams, in breads and in stews; it can also be found in toothpastes, cosmetics, lotions for skin and hair, soap, and perfumes. Mastic is also used in several Turkish recipes and preparations and remains quite a popular spice in neighbouring Turkey as well.

Finally, one of the most interesting historical associations relating to mastic and its production has to do with Christopher Columbus. The unique nature of mastic resin was one of Columbus’ own stated reasons for undertaking his voyage of discovery. In his First Letter to Isabella I of Castile, Columbus enumerates the possibility of finding a new source of the mastic resin in the West as one of the reasons he believed his undertaking was something worthy of the Queen’s funding. Curiously, Columbus uses the Greek spelling of the name of the island i.e. Xios, where the unique resin was cultivated. This, along with a number of other interesting points has led some to conclude that Columbus was actually a Greek from Chios. Was Columbus of Greek origin? I don’t know. There are definitely some pretty curious facts among what little we actually do know regarding the man and his origins, but I have not come to any conclusions. If you want to read more on it, try Matt Barret’s brief discussion of the matter.

Try my Mastic Shrimp Saganaki recipe to enjoy the unique flavour of cooking with mastic gum.

If you are interested in obtaining high-quality pure mastic resin or any other mastic products, drop me an email: greekgourmand[at]gmail.com

Pánta Kalá (Always Be Well),

Sam Sotiropoulos
Greek Gourmand™
http://www.greekgourmand.com
Greek Food Recipes and Reflections
Copyright © 2008, Sam Sotiropoulos. All Rights Reserved.

My Big Fat Greek Food Blog Contest Winner!

2009-04-04T22:22:00.000-07:00

Thanks to everyone who submitted an entry along with their kind words of encouragement. :-) I was pleasantly surprised, and a little overwhelmed, by the number of entries received. I was glad to read that all of the entrants enjoyed the scavenger hunt format of the contest; I will retain it for future giveaways. Now to the matter at hand.

Pastitsio recipe pages in "Culinaria Greece" book (and no cinnamon added!) - Click to Enlarge

The winner of a copy of the book "Culinaria Greece" by Marianthi Milona is fellow culinary enthusiast and food blogger Donald Orphanidys a.k.a. Mr. Orph. Donald correctly answered the 7 questions in the contest quiz, and his name was chosen by a process of random number generation from among all the correct entries. Congratulations to Donald! I will be shipping him the book on Monday.

Here are the contest questions along with their correct answers in bold text:

Which species of tree is among the first to bloom with the arrival of spring in Greece? The alomnd tree
What herb was fashionably worn behind the ear by men at ancient Athens? Mint
What was the name and profession of the very first Olympic victor? Coroebus of Elis - a cook
What is the second oldest existing wine in the world? Mavrodaphne wine (1873)
How much did my father’s prize tomato weigh last summer? 1 kg. or 2.2 lbs
Which famous British actor is especially fond of a rare Greek island specialty sweet? Roger Moore
Which hospital was my son born in? Mt. Sinai Hospital

For those of you who did enter the contest but did not win this time round, there's a few more copies of the book to be given away yet. Stay tuned for more great Greek food related contests on the way, my friends. Who knows, you may be the next winner. But you can't win if you don't play!

Amiably,

Sam Sotiropoulos
Greek Gourmand™
http://www.greekgourmand.com
Greek Food Recipes and Reflections
Copyright © 2008, Sam Sotiropoulos. All Rights Reserved.

Pan-fried Kalamari (Καλαμάρια Τηγανιτά)

2009-03-25T09:41:00.000-07:00

Those of you who have travelled to Greece or eaten at a Greek taverna will undoubtedly be familiar with this squid (kalamari) dish. Without question, this is one of the most recognizable Greek seafood dishes, and it is easily the simplest to prepare.

My pan-fried kalamari served with scorthalia & a lemon wedge - Click to Enlarge Image

Among ancient Greek foodies, squid was classified as “fish for the frying pan” and it was usually served up as a “forerunner” or appetizer to a meal. Over two thousand years later and not much has changed. Today, there is hardly a Greek food restaurant anywhere which does not include this dish on its menu.

Usually, pan-fried kalamari is served with an accompanying dollop of tzatziki (garlic yogurt) sauce and a wedge of lemon. Instead of tzatziki, I often serve scorthalia (a garlic potato purée) along with these fried squid segments. This substitution is really quite a successful one and I highly recommend it. For anyone observing the Lenten fast prior to Easter, scorthalia makes an excellent alternative to the dairy based tzatziki.

Now, the most common complaint I hear about squid cooked in this fashion is that it often ends up being rather rubbery and chewy. This happens when it is overcooked. My rule of thumb is two and a half minutes cooking time in the pan, and thirty seconds to drain on a dish lined with some paper towel before serving - three minutes all told from start to finish. Follow this rule and your kalamari will end up consistently tender. One caveat: the tentacles require a little less time to cook than the ring segments cut from the tubular body of the mollusk. For this recipe, I used large frozen squid tubes without the tentacles which can usually be found in the frozen seafood section of most decent sized supermarkets. The advantage of using the large squid tubes is that they are usually already cleaned and all you need to do is defrost them before using.

For a scorthalia recipe, see this posting. If you wish to serve this dish with tzatziki, you can find a video recipe for it here.

Ingredients:

4 large squid tubes (cleaned)
3 heaping tablespoons all-purpose flour
1 heaping tablespoon corn flour
1 lemon
Oil for frying (I used vegetable oil)

Defrost and wash the squid tubes.
Slice the squid into ring segments, approximately ¼ inch in width.
Put the flour and corn flour in a clear plastic bag and shake to mix thoroughly, then add the squid segments and shake them around in the flour to ensure a complete coating. Note: as the squid rings are already moist, no extra liquid will be required to ensure the flour coating adheres to the rings. The pointed end of the squid tubes can simply be split in half to ensure they are completely covered in the flour mixture.
Heat the oil in a frying pan over a medium heat. Make sure to use enough oil to completely immerse the squid rings for frying.
Using a wooden spoon, loop some of the floured ring segments over the handle until you have a good batch for frying then proceed to add the squid rings to the oil, one by one in a clockwise fashion until the pan is full. Do keep an eye on the time and at the 2 ½ minute mark start removing the rings again in a clockwise order from your starting point in the pan.
Place the cooked squid rings in a plate lined with paper towel to drain until all the squid has been cooked and serve immediately. Be sure to sprinkle the fried kalamari liberally with fresh-squeezed lemon juice and serve it with either scorthalia or tzatziki (as already mentioned and pictured in the photo above).

There you have it, some pan-fried kalamari to serve as an appetizer or even as part of a main course if you should be so inclined. Easy peasy lemon squeezy Greek food!

Finally, today, March 25th is Greek Independence Day and a national holiday in Greece. This date commemorates the start of the War for Greek Independence from the Ottoman Empire after nearly 400 years of occupation. The celebrations for this day consist of parades throughout Greece and the Greek Diaspora. Here in Toronto, our Independence Day parade will take place this coming Sunday along Danforth Avenue which comprises the heart of Toronto’s Greektown.

Statue of Theodoros Kolokotronis (Θεόδωρος Κολοκοτρώνης) in Athens, front of old parliament. Click to Enlarge Image.

According to the Greek Orthodox calendar this day also marks the Annunciation of the Virgin Mary and the traditional dish that is served is fried bakaliaros (cod) accompanied by a generous helping of scorthalia. Greeks who are observing the Lenten fast are allowed this exception and they customarily consume the fried bakaliaros dish on this day. In point of fact, my wife and I, along with our son, are getting ready to go to my parents’ home to enjoy the fried bakaliaros with scorthalia even as I am finishing up this post.

The customary greeting for this day is “Zito e Ellada” (Ζήτω η Ελλάδα!) which translates as “Long Live Hellas (i.e. Greece)”. So, to all my Greek friends, Happy Independence Day!

Pánta Kalá (Always Be Well)!

Sam Sotiropoulos
Greek Gourmand™
http://www.greekgourmand.com
Greek Food Recipes and Reflections
Copyright © 2008, Sam Sotiropoulos. All Rights Reserved.

Pasteli (Παστέλι)

2009-02-27T07:32:00.001-08:00

Ever wondered what sorts of foods the ancient Greeks ate? Here is a recipe for a healthful chewy snack that has satisfied and pleased children and adults alike for millennia.

My Pasteli triangles - Click to Enlarge Image.

Pasteli, the mere mention of the word will bring a smile to any Greek’s face. An all natural confection, in its simplest form, pasteli is composed of two ingredients: sesame seeds and honey. The addition of nuts such as walnuts, pistachios, or almonds is also common in some versions of pasteli.

Sesame has been an ingredient in the Greek pantry since time immemorial. Mention of it is made in Linear B tablets found at Mycenae dated to the 14th Century BC. Indeed, the English word “sesame” is itself derived from the Greek word σησαμη or sēsámē.

This combination of honey and sesame seeds to form wafers of chewy wholesome goodness is one Greek food concoction that has been around - quite literally - for ages. In the Archaic age and later in the Classical and Hellenistic periods this confection was known as “itrion”. Indeed, it appears that among the ancients this type of flat-cake was a delicacy popular enough to warrant its own class of peddler, these were known as “itriopoleis” i.e., the ‘itrion-sellers’.

Some commercially available Greek pasteli bars - Click to Enlarge Image.

Today, pasteli is inevitably included in the homeward bound luggage of Diaspora Greeks returning to their respective homes outside the fatherland. As a child, whenever some family member or close family friend returned to Canada from Greece, I always eagerly anticipated the pasteli that would have invariably been sent along for me by some relation back in the ancestral homeland. It is one of my most cherished childhood memories of travel to and from Greece.

Pasteli is easy to make and keeps for long periods. It is also a very nutritious and fast-friendly or vegan snack. This most ancient Greek food item is a very popular treat for children in our modern era, and will likely continue to be enjoyed by all age groups for many more generations to come.

Ingredients:

2 ½ cups of sesame seeds
1 ½ cups of Greek honey
½ cup raw almonds (or pistachios or walnuts)* - optional
Orange blossom water

Add the honey to a saucepan and heat over a medium low heat until it starts to bubble and ball.
Add sesame seeds and almonds* (optional) to the pan and mix well to incorporate with the honey. Cook slowly while continually stirring the mixture with a wooden spoon until it achieves a rich golden-brown colour, about 10 minutes or so.
Prepare a marble or glass cutting board surface by sprinkling it with some orange blossom water and spreading it to cover the working surface.
Pour the hot honey-sesame mixture onto the working surface and spread it with a spatula to a uniform thickness of a ½ inch or so.
Take a sufficiently large piece of parchment paper and cover the outspread pasteli mixture with it, then, use a rolling pin over top of the parchment paper to further thin and spread the mix into a rough rectangle of uniform thickness, about a ¼ inch or so.
Remove the parchment paper (do not throw it out), square the edges of the pasteli with a spatula or icing tool and let stand to cool.
Equally divide and cut the outspread pasteli into full-length rectangles using a large sharp knife. Further divide and cut the rectangles into squares, and then cut the squares at a 45 degree angle to achieve the triangular pieces depicted in the photo above.
Use a metal spatula to remove the pasteli triangles from the marble/glass working surface and place the pieces in an airtight container (lined with the parchment paper from step 6 above) for storage. Do not refrigerate, simply store in the cupboard/pantry and serve the wafers as a snack, or dessert element.

Yield: Approximately 24 pieces.

Note: You can also toast the sesame seeds and almonds/nuts in the oven before using them in this recipe. Simply spread them on a baking sheet and place them in a moderately pre-heated oven (350°F /180°C) for about 5 minutes or so. Make sure not to burn them.

Pánta Kalá (Always Be Well),

Sam Sotiropoulos
Greek Gourmand™
http://www.greekgourmand.com
Greek Food Recipes and Reflections
Copyright © 2008, Sam Sotiropoulos. All Rights Reserved.

My Big Fat Greek Food Blog Contest

2009-02-20T17:53:00.000-08:00

Enter the contest to win a free copy of a modern classic on Greek Food, “Culinaria Greece: Greek Specialties” by Marianthi Milona.

"Culinaria Greece: Greek Specialties" by Marianthi Milona. Click to Enlarge Image

To mark the first anniversary of this Greek food blog (as of January 30th!), I thought it might be fun to institute a series of contests for my loyal readers; and what better prize for a Greek food blog contest than a book on Greek food? The Culinaria titles on national cuisines are among my favourite downtime reads and occupy a prominent position on my bookshelf. Whether I want to explore the ethnic foods of Italy, Spain, Germany, France, Russia, Hungary or Greece it is always a pleasure to pick up and flip through one of the books in this series. The articles, recipes, and photography are quite engaging and serve to immerse readers in the cultural contexts of the foods and beverages explored between their covers. The Culinaria Greece book is quite impressive and would make an excellent addition to any food lover’s library.

Details on the eggplant from within the book. Click to Enlarge Image.

Contest Details:

To enter the contest and win a copy of Culinaria Greece you will need to answer a series of questions; the answers for which are to be found throughout my blog within my past postings. When you have collected your answers, send them to me via email to greekgourmand[at]gmail.com (replace the [at] with an @). Be sure to include your name and mailing address in the message. The winner will be chosen randomly from among the correctly submitted entries at the close of the contest on March 31, 2009.

Note: Your email/contact information will NOT be distributed to ANY third parties PERIOD. So, do not hesitate to submit your entry, the prize is well worth it.

As mentioned, you will have to correctly answer a few questions in order to enter the contest, here they are:

QUESTIONS:

Which species of tree is among the first to bloom with the arrival of spring in Greece?
What herb was fashionably worn behind the ear by men at ancient Athens?
What was the name and profession of the very first Olympic victor?
What is the second oldest existing wine in the world?
How much did my father’s prize tomato weigh last summer?
Which famous British actor is especially fond of a rare Greek island specialty sweet?
Which hospital was my son born in?

There you have it; I look forward to your entries. I could have made it easier to win the prize in the hopes of getting more submissions, but I believe that the best things in life are earned, to some degree anyway. The rest is simply up to blind fortune. Such is life, my friends.

Enjoy!

Sam Sotiropoulos
Greek Gourmand™
http://www.greekgourmand.com
Greek Food Recipes and Reflections
Copyright © 2008, Sam Sotiropoulos. All Rights Reserved.

Pastitsio Perfection (Παστίτσιο)

2009-01-26T18:35:00.000-08:00

Pastitsio is to Greek cuisine what Lasagna is to Italian cooking. This classic Greek recipe makes for an excellent winter comfort meal. Served with a side of mixed green salad dressed with wine vinegar and Greek extra virgin olive oil, this is one meal that is sure to please guests and family.

A piece of Pastichio Perfection. Click to Enlarge Image.

Now, I am not in the habit of watching much television, especially the daytime major American network programs. However, today, as I was feeding my son his bottle I happened to catch Rachel Ray making what she called “Greek Baked Ziti” which we Greeks know as Pastitsio [pronounced as pa-STEE-tsee-oh]. At best, it was amusing to watch her pretend to know what she was doing. Unfortunately, within a few minutes it became painfully obvious that she really did not have a clue; and when her frustration started to show, it was embarrassing to think that her audience would walk away with such a bastardized version of a classic Greek food recipe planted in their heads.

So, in order to straighten Rachel out, I thought I would offer up my mother’s recipe for Pastitsio. I have been enjoying this dish as long as I can remember - it happens to be one of my all-time favourite Greek recipes. There are three components in the construction of this famous pasta casserole dish, and each must be attended to individually before combining them to achieve the final product.

The first component is a ground meat sauce which is similar to one that Greeks often serve over macaroni as detailed in my previous post: Macaroni, Makaronia, Makaronada, and Pasta… Similar, but not the same; one does not add cinnamon or any other aromatic spice to the meat sauce for Pastitsio. Why? Because it is overkill! Only the top layer of Béchamel Sauce gets a hint of nutmeg which then permeates the casserole as it bakes. I have seen so-called Pastitsio recipes on some other blogs which mix cinnamon and allspice in with the meat sauce, and then they complete their muddle of flavours with the requisite nutmeg in the Béchamel sauce!

Next, you need to use the right pasta. Several Greek brands of what is known as the “No. 2” macaroni shape are available in Greece and in Greek specialty shops abroad (also in some of the better stocked mainstream supermarkets). However, if you do not happen to have a Greek market, deli, or bakery nearby, and simply cannot find the Greek pasta, you can use either one of two more widely available Italian pasta shapes which are similar to the Greek noodle, these are as follows:

Buctani: A thick Spaghetti style pasta which is hollow through the center, similar to a drinking straw. (Of the two Italian shapes listed here, this one is the closer approximation to the Greek No. 2 pasta size).
Ziti: A larger diameter long-cut and smooth surface hollow (tubular) pasta shape.

Though it is also possible to use Penne pasta for this dish (my mother-in-law often does) I prefer sticking as close as possible to the classic composition for the sake of authenticity and ease of assembly.

Lastly, there is the Béchamel (i.e. White) Sauce that is poured overtop of the assembled casserole before it goes into the oven, and which forms a wonderful top layer and slight crust to the dish. For another classic béchamel-topped Greek casserole dish see my Marvelous Moussaka recipe.

My Pastitsio straight out of the oven. Click to Enlarge Image.

I used a CorningWare 2.5-qt. Oval Casserole without the lid to bake my Pastitsio. The depth of this type of baking dish allows for a nice layered height in the finished product. As with many Greek recipes, and most especially with casseroles, this dish is best consumed on the following day after its baking; simply refrigerate and heat well before cutting and serving.

Ingredients:

The Meat Sauce

1 ½ lbs. ground veal (or beef, though minced lamb can also be used)

1 large or 2 medium-sized yellow onion(s), finely diced

1 tsp. (5 ml.) dried rosemary

2 bay leaves

2 cloves of garlic, grated

1 ½ cups (375 ml.) fresh strained tomato juice (or ¼ cup tomato paste diluted in 1½ cups of water.)

¼ cup (60 ml.) white wine

¼ cup (60 ml.) Greek extra virgin olive oil

Salt and pepper to taste

The Pasta

1 lb. of Greek No.2 pasta (or Bucatini, or Ziti, as noted above)

2 tbsp. (30ml.) Greek extra virgin olive oil

3 egg whites, beaten (the yolks will be used in the béchamel sauce)

¼ cup (60 ml.) grated Kefalotyri (or Parmesan cheese if you try but cannot find the Greek cheese)

The Béchamel Sauce

4 cups (1 litre) of scalded milk

1 cup (250 ml.) all-purpose flour

¾ cup (180 ml.) grated Kefalotyri (or Parmesan cheese if you really cannot find the Greek cheese)

½ cup (125 ml.) of salted butter

3 egg yolks, well beaten

½ - 1 teaspoon of ground nutmeg

½ teaspoon fresh ground black pepper

Assembly:

Heat the olive oil in a large pan and sauté the diced onion(s) over a medium heat until soft. Add the ground veal to the pan and break it up thoroughly. Keep stirring constantly over a medium high heat for 5 minutes or so to brown all of the meat and mingle it completely with the onion.
Once the meat is completely browned, add the rosemary, garlic, wine, and the fresh tomato juice (or tomato paste diluted in water) to the pan along with salt and pepper to taste, and mix well. Bring to a boil, add the bay leaves and make sure to immerse them in the sauce, then reduce the heat to medium-low and cover the pan with its lid leaving it only slightly uncovered to allow the excess water to evaporate as steam. Simmer for about 30 minutes or so. Stir the sauce occasionally. When ready, the meat will have absorbed the liquid in the pan. Remove the bay leaves and set aside when done.
Bring a large pot of water to a rolling boil, add the pasta to the water and parboil it until soft but not fully cooked (about 3/4 of the suggested cooking time on the package).
While the pasta is cooking, make the béchamel sauce. Start by melting the butter in a deep saucepan over a medium heat, then, using a whisk or immersion blender with a whisk attachment, slowly incorporate the flour by adding it to the melted butter in stages while stirring continually to avoid the formation of lumps. Once the flour has been fully incorporated, slowly add the hot milk while continuing to constantly stir the butter and flour paste to ensure a smooth consistency. Once the milk has been added, remove the saucepan from the heat and add the grated cheese, nutmeg, pepper and egg yolks in that order while continuing to rapidly stir the mixture. Set aside when smooth and well-mixed. However, do not let it stand for too long without a good stirring as you do not want the top to start congealing. By this point your pasta should be ready.
Drain the water completely from the pasta pot and return pot with pasta to the heat, add the two tablespoons of olive oil to the pasta and mix well to ensure a thorough coating of oil as we do not want the pasta to get sticky. Remove the pot from the heat, let stand for a few minutes to cool and then add the egg whites to the pasta, along with the ¼ cup of grated Kefalotyri cheese and mix well, then set aside momentarily.
Rub a little olive into the sides and bottom of your baking dish, and then add about two-thirds of the pasta to the dish to form a bottom layer. Make sure to spread the pasta evenly in order to completely cover the bottom of the dish, make sure not to leave any empty spaces.
Spread the meat sauce overtop of the bottom pasta layer, ensuring to distribute it evenly and right to the edges of the casserole. The meat layer must be of uniform thickness and must not have any gaps.
Add the remaining pasta overtop of the meat layer, distributing it evenly.
Pour the béchamel sauce over of the final pasta layer, make sure to cover the entire surface area of the dish.
Place the casserole uncovered in an oven pre-heated to 350°F (180°C) and bake for approximately 30 minutes, or until the béchamel sauce is golden brown.
Remove casserole from oven and set aside to cool before serving. As already mentioned above, this dish is best served on the following day after its baking. However, if you must eat it on the same day, make sure it has a chance to cool for at least 30 minutes before cutting it into pieces. Do not make the mistake of cutting it before it has had a chance to cool, you will end up with messy servings. Cut it only when it has cooled, (ideally overnight in the refrigerator) and warm the pieces before serving.

Makes approximately 8 generous servings

There you have it, Pastitsio Perfection!

Pánta Kalá (Always Be Well),

Sam Sotiropoulos

Greek Gourmand™

http://www.greekgourmand.com

Greek Food Recipes and Reflections

P.S. Rachel, if you happen to read this, I would be more than happy to show you how to make this dish in person. :-)

Leek Pie - Prassopita (Πρασόπιτα)

2009-01-09T07:17:00.000-08:00

An easy to make and very tasty traditional leek pie recipe from North Western Greece. If you like leeks, you will love this pie.

Straight from out of the oven. Click to Enlarge Image.

Leeks are my favourite seasonal vegetable this time of year. They have been an ingredient and seasoning in Greek food since the earliest times. Among the ancient Delphians, leeks were included in ritual offerings to Leto (mother of Apollo and Artemis) during their Theoxenia or “Banquet of the Gods” festival. It was believed that Leto had craved leeks while pregnant with the twins, thus a contest was instituted in her honour in which only the largest leeks were selected to be added to the offerings table. The producer whose leek(s) won the contest would be rewarded with a portion from the collected offerings. Leeks as thick around as radishes and turnips were reported. Interestingly, there appears to have been some kind of relationship between divine twins and leeks. For, it was also related that the ancient Athenians included leeks in their customary offerings to the Dioscuri.

A slice of prasópita anyone? Click to Enlarge image.

Today, Greek cuisine offers many variations on the use of leeks. They are included in everything from sausage stuffing to soups and stews, and are often baked into ‘pies’ or pites (pronounced “PEE-tess”) as we say in Greek. For those of you who do not relish the idea of making pites with phyllo pastry (cf. filo), this version will make your life easier, as well as add some excellent texture and flavour to your winter table.

Ingredients:

3 - 4 large leeks, sliced thinly (upper dark green stalks removed)
3 large eggs
1 ½ cups of milk
1 cup crumbled Greek feta cheese
¾ cup all-purpose flour
½ cup Greek extra virgin olive oil
¼ cup fresh green onion, finely chopped
¼ cup fresh dill, finely chopped
1 teaspoon dried Greek oregano
Fresh-ground pepper
A pinch of salt

Heat the olive oil in a pan and sauté the leeks for about 5 minutes, then add the fresh green onion and continue sautéing until both are soft and tender (another 3 minutes or so).
In a large bowl, beat the eggs well then add the milk, feta cheese, flour, dill, oregano, salt and pepper and sautéed leeks and onions and mix well.
Grease the sides of your pie dish/pan with some olive oil, pour the mixture to the dish/pan then bake for about1 hour in an oven pre-heated to 350°F (180° C).

Allow to cool before cutting. Can be served warm or at room temperature.

Personally, I prefer serving this on the following day to allow the flavours time to meld. I usually refrigerate the pie once it has cooled to room temperature and then cut and warm the slices as need.

Kali Orexi! (Bon Appétit),

Sam Sotiropoulos
Greek Gourmand™
http://www.greekgourmand.com
Greek Food Recipes and Reflections
Copyright © 2008, Sam Sotiropoulos. All Rights Reserved

Happy New Year & Vasilopita

2009-01-01T14:32:00.001-08:00

When I was young, my sister and I would go to Danforth Avenue (Toronto's Greek town) on the morning of New Year's Eve and sing the "Kalanta" at the doorways of all the Greek owned businesses on the street. The shopkeepers would reward us with money and good wishes for a lucky and happy New Year. This custom goes back a couple millenia and is an outgrowth of ancient pagan celebrations at the beginning of each calendar month, signifying the start of the new moon cycle. Indeed, the name "Kalanta" is derived from the ancient Roman (Latin) word "Calends". Like many other pagan customs, the "Kalanta" were later subsumed within the Byzantine Christian traditions which replaced the old ways, and were transmitted right down to our present day as folk customs. The song included in the video below is the New Year "Kalanta".

On New Year's Day, wherever they may happen to live, Greeks come together with their families and friends for the traditional cutting of the Vasilopita (St. Basil's Cake). The event centres around the cake itself, for which there are a number of regional recipe variations ranging from a sweet bread, to a cake, to a phyllo-based pita-style version; though the traditional recipe was standardized by the Byzantine Emperor Justinian sometime in the 6th Century and is best characterized as a sweet bread, almost a cake. The ritual of cutting the Vasilopita has nothing to do with the edible constituent ingredients of the Vasilopita itself. Instead, the focus is on 1) the inedible ingredient, usually only one coin, and 2) the invisible ingredient: the love of family, friends, and community, which binds and brings together all those who take part in the Vasilopita tradition by accepting a piece of the cake when it is cut.

First, the coin. The coin is called a 'flouri' [pronounced FLOO-REE, remember to roll the 'R']. The flouri is added to the dough and baked right into the Vasilopita, and upon its cutting, one of the recipients of its pieces will find the flouri in their portion. The fortunate soul who so finds the coin is then hailed as the "luckiest" individual for the next 364 days by the gathered company.

Now, historically speaking, the baking of coins into breads and cakes which were holy offerings for holiday occasions was not invented by Saint Basil (also known as "Basil the Great") who lends his name to the Vasilopita -the "Vasil" part. In point of fact, the ancient pre-Christian Greeks and Romans were both familiar with this peculiar patisserie practice and many of their festivals included such tokens. Nonetheless, there's a reason why it's called a Vasilopita and this has more to do with the invisible ingredient of the whole affair: the love and gratitude for community fellowship and support.

So, why was the cake named in the honour of Saint Basil?

Well, seventeen centuries ago, Basil was appointed as Christian bishop (in Greek, a 'despot') of a place called Caesarea that is the modern-day city of Kayseri in Turkey. He was a contemporary of the Emperor Julian, who was known as 'the Apostate' for his impracticable mission to resurrect a dying Paganism in the then Roman Empire. When said Emperor went forth on an ultimately unsuccessful mission to conquer the Sassanid Empire (a persistent revival element of the ancient Persian Empire), his army made his way through the vicinity of Caesarea on their way to Mesopotamia. As wars require financing, he put a special emphasis on squeezing the local provincials with extra tax demands; and he took a special interest in Christian communities.

Basil's regard and care for the poor and underprivileged of Caesarea was legendary and a universally respected trait, one which earned him the devotion and love of his followers, Christian and non-Christian alike. In addition to numerous other works, Basil had commisioned a structure known as the 'Basiliad', a large complex on the outskirts of Caesarea, which included a shelter for the poor along with a hospital. The man himself was renowned for his charity and personal poverty, yet he spared no expense when it came to the care and succour of others, and his ability to provide for their needs drew the attention of Julian's overzealous tax-collectors. So, Bishop Basil was was 'invited' to help fund the Emperor Julian's war effort. Having eschewed personal wealth in providing for his fellows, Basil turned to his followers and friends to raise the money. His followers gave up whatever they could afford to ensure that nothing happened to their beloved bishop and a tidy sum was assembled posthaste.

The Emperor Julian was unsuccessful in his bid to reduce the Sassanid capital of Ctesiphon and he was reportedly killed by one of his own men during a skirmish with enemy forces while his army was withdrawing back to the safety of Roman borders. There is speculation that Julian's death was an assassination ordered by Basil, but there is no direct evidence to support such a claim. Suffice it to say, once the Emperor was dead, Basil was no longer under severe constraint to provide money to the failed war effort. This in turn, left him in a quandary as nobody had kept records of who had donated what amount to the sum which had been collected in his name, and he now desired to return the money to his community. Thus, according to the tradition, he fixed on the idea of having equal shares of the money baked into small loaves which he then distributed among them, one for each family. When the loaves were cut, each family discovered a fair share of the total amount that had been originally amassed. To honour their bishop and as a sign of their love for him, his followers continued and passed on the practice of a yearly Vasilopita complete with a lucky coin, and the practice is still perpetuated almost 1700 years later.

Happy New Year 2009!

Sam Sotiropoulos

Greek Gourmand™

http://www.greekgourmand.com

Greek Food Recipes and Reflections

Stuffed Pork Loin - Hirino Gemisto (Χοιρινό γεμιστό)

2008-12-31T16:35:00.000-08:00

Traditionally, pork or rooster (and sometimes both) are served as part of Greek family meals on New Year's Eve or Day.

Pork Loin stuffed with Kefalograviera cheese and mushrooms. Click to enlarge image.

Yesterday marked our second wedding anniversary and Sophie and I spent a quiet evening entertaining at our home. The table was set for six; the guests included our Best Man and Lady, along with another couple who are also very dear friends. According to my version of an ancient custom, I rarely invite more than nine guests to an indoor dinner symposium. I call it the “933 Rule” and it really is quite a successful play when entertaining guests over the Holidays. The company, in order to be close yet not unmanageable, must never exceed the number of the Muses (nine), nor ever be fewer than the number of the Fates (three). Nor should anyone present consume more cups of wine than there are Graces (also three). Now, three glasses of wine may not sound like a lot, but it is the equivalent of a typical bottle of wine i.e., 750 ml. In my estimation, a bottle of wine all to oneself is more than enough to “have a good time” as the saying goes. Mind you, this last rule is more of a guideline than a strict cut-off point… But, I do drop a subtle hint or two when I think someone has overdone it. :-)

The menu consisted of stuffed pork loin as pictured above, served with a roasted tuber and root medley, and a rice pilaf topped with baked mushrooms and onions; there was also a baked chickpea dish, and a romaine lettuce hearts and cucumber salad. In addition, the table was set with a platter of assorted Greek cheeses (including Kaseri and Feta), some village style cured olives, and some Greek peperoncini peppers. For dessert, I had baked a Milopita which was accompanied by coffee, tea, and cognac.

The pork loin was simply superb; succulent and moist all the way through. I had splayed the loin in a double butterfly manner to ensure as large a rolling surface area as possible. I wanted a tight and complete roll that would not leak its contents when tied and roasting in the oven. As the loin was the better part of two feet long, it was a delicate process to open it up in such a fashion, but the finished product was well worth the extra effort and care.

Once the loin was cooked and sliced, I served each piece with a drizzle of jus which I reduced from the pan drippings combined with some apple juice and Greek thyme honey. Also, I had tenderized the inner surface of the meat with a mallet and rubbed the loin (inside and out) with Greek extra virgin olive oil, and had seasoned it all over with paprika, marjoram, salt and pepper. Then, I spread a layer of shredded/grated Kefalograviera cheese followed by a layer of sliced mushrooms lightly seared in butter over top of the meat, covering about two-thirds of the inside open face of the loin, and leaving an uncovered band about two inches in width running along the edge furthest from me. At which point, I rolled the meat lengthwise toward the cheese-less band, and then tightly tied it with twine at both ends and in the centre, and then again at two-inch intervals along its entire length. The final preparatory step was to tightly wrap the meat in some aluminum foil and allow it to sit on the counter for a couple hours before cooking. I wanted the meat to be at around room temperature when it went into the oven.

Finally, I removed it from the aluminum foil wrap and cooked the loin uncovered on a rack over a pan in a moderate 350 oven for 1 ½ hours. From time to time, I basted the loin with the pan drippings and turned it only once to ensure an even roasting. The result was flavourful, tender, and moist.

Tonight is New Year’s Eve and my wife and I will be spending it with our son, Ilias, who is still in the NICU at the hospital. Though, we do expect him home very soon. So, from the three of us to all of you, we hope 2009 brings you and yours nothing but health, happiness, peace and prosperity.

Pánta Kalá! (Always Be Well),

Sam Sotiropoulos
Greek Gourmand™
http://www.greekgourmand.com
Greek Food Recipes and Reflections
Copyright © 2008, Sam Sotiropoulos. All Rights Reserved.

My Greek Pistachio Story - Fystikia (Φυστίκια)

2008-12-29T16:45:00.000-08:00

Pistachios are quite popular in Greece. They are used in all manner of recipes, and Greeks also enjoy eating them roasted with salt (as pictured below) or raw. In point of fact, there is hardly a Greek home during this holiday period which will not have a bowl of roasted and salted pistachios sitting out on a table for guests to nibble on. Pistachios are used in Greek baklava; they are made into brittles, added to cakes, cookies, and any number of baked goods and bonne bouches.

Roasted & salted pistachios from Aegina. Click to enlarge image.

As far as I have been able to ascertain, the pistachio seed has been a part of Greek food culture since at least the 2nd Century B.C., and likely much earlier. The English word pistachio is derived from the ancient Greek word pistákion (πιστάκιον). The ancients credited the origins of the pistachio tree to Arabia and Syria.

Today, the island of Aegina and the region around Megara are the traditional epicentres of pistachio cultivation in Greece; with more recent production also taking place in Phthiotis, Boeotia and the Aegean island of Euboea (Evia). The pistachios of Aegina are considered the best and have attained preeminence in Greek marketplaces and in popular preference; they are referred to as fystiki Aeginis (pronounced: fee-STEE-kee ay-YEE-nees). However, I have found that the Megarian pistachios are equally good and they do not command the same premium in price, even though Megara is quite close to Aegina. Greece is the largest producer of pistachios in Europe and the sixth largest exporter of pistachios to the world; the bulk of global pistachio cultivation takes place in Iran.

Pistachio spoon sweet from Aegina. Click to enlarge image.

The first pistachio I ever tasted was immature and raw, just like the ones used to make the spoon sweet pictured above. I remember my grandmother was irrigating one of our plots in the lower plain of the village and I had gone along for "company". At ten years of age, I was a rather willful child and in constant need of curiosities to occupy my attention.

So, as I was not off flipping rocks in the nearby river to find and collect crabs in my grandfather’s cap (my favorite village pastime), I was nosing about her feet and right in my grandma’s way no matter which way she turned. At some point, the old woman hastily plucked a branch of what looked like a bunch of unripe grapes from a small tree and handed them to me, instructing me to eat them and be still.

Now, I cannot say that I was immediately taken with the flavour as it was actually rather “green and somewhat piny” (which is the best way I can describe it), but there was something to the texture which made it amenable to my young palate; also, I liked the way I had to pop the inner seed from its immature outer shell and right into my mouth, just as my grandmother had shown me how to do it.

To this day, I have a thing for pistachios in any form. Though, I have to admit, my all-time favourite pistachio preparation remains the spoon sweet which is a specialty of the island of Aegina. Earlier this evening, my wife and I consumed the last two spoonfuls of my zealously guarded hoard of the stuff. We still have some of the roasted variety from Aegina to carry us through to the New Year, but they will not last much beyond the next couple days. Thus, all good things come to an end, in order to make room for more good things to replace them in the future.

Cleaning out the cupboards, pantry, and fridge for the New Year, I leave you with that for now.

Pánta Kalá! (Always Be Well),

Sam Sotiropoulos
Greek Gourmand™
http://www.greekgourmand.com
Greek Food Recipes and Reflections
Copyright © 2008, Sam Sotiropoulos. All Rights Reserved.

Christopsomo – Christmas Bread (Χριστόψωμο)

2008-12-23T09:41:00.001-08:00

My Greek Christmas bread in all its glory. Click to Enlarge Image.

The many centuries-old custom of the Christopsomo or ‘Bread of Christ’ is a universal Christmas Greek food tradition. Today, all over Greece and throughout the Diaspora, Christopsomo loaves will be baked and set aside for the breaking, which depending on where you are from in Greece is performed at either Christmas Eve dinner or lunch on Christmas Day. This bread is a sweet yeast bread, and is characteristically decorated with the symbol of the cross which is usually embossed overtop of the loaf with two dough strands that intersect and divide the bread into four segments. Other standard decorations include walnuts in their shells and sesame seeds (white and black). More elaborate designs are also traced on the surface of the loaf in some regions of Greece, as in Crete, where ornate symbols are carved into the surface of the bread. Usually these symbols are associated with the livelihood of the family. For instance, if agriculture is the primary activity of a given family, their Christopsomo might bear symbols that relate to agrarian activities, i.e. farming tools, crops, animals and so on.

Along with the specific ingredient list (which often differs by locale), the custom of the Christopsomo usually includes a ritualistic cutting or breaking of the bread. In our family, the bread is literally broken in half by the eldest male family member present at the table on Christmas Day. This is done by placing the bread on his head and by pulling on either side until the loaf is broken roughly in half. The two pieces are then examined and if the piece that ended up in his right hand is larger than the other, the coming year will be a good and bountiful time for the whole family; if it is smaller, then the coming year will be fraught with difficulties and challenges.

This recipe is my family’s version and originates in the region known as Arcadia in the central Peloponnese.

Ingredients:

4 ½ cups of all-purpose flour
1 cup of golden raisins
1 cup of walnut pieces
4 whole unshelled walnuts
½ cup of sugar
3 tablespoons Mastic Liqueur (or Ouzo)
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
½ teaspoon ground cloves
2 teaspoons dry yeast
1 ½ tablespoons white sesame seeds
1 ½ tablespoons black sesame seeds
¼ cup Greek extra virgin olive oil
1 teaspoon salt
Finely grated rind/zest of one medium-sized orange

Mix yeast with three tablespoons of flour, one teaspoon of sugar, and ½ cup of warm water, then set aside for 30 minutes to proof. The entire surface of the yeast mixture should foam up and rise markedly before it is ready to use.
In a large mixing bowl, sift the remaining flour, then add the sugar, salt, ground cinnamon and ground clove, and then create a hole in the centre of the dry ingredients.
Add yeast to the centre hole in the dry ingredients and start kneading to combine well.
Once the dough starts to form into a crumbly mass, add the Mastic liqueur (or Ouzo) and then slowly add a ½ cup of warm water to the mix, kneading well all the time to combine thoroughly. Once the water has been absorbed into the dough, slowly add the olive oil and work the dough until it has been incorporated.
Once the dough mass has taken shape, add the orange rind and knead it well into the dough, then add the raisins and walnut pieces and continue to knead the dough until it forms an elastic ball. Note: this dough will be a rather heavy dough and although you may use a machine to knead it through the initial stages, it will need to be finished by hand to ensure a thorough and proper kneading.
Using a sharp knife, cut away a piece about the size of an orange from the dough, and further divide that piece in half so you are left with one large ball of dough and two small pieces.
Knead the larger dough mass some more then place it in a round greased baking pan (I used a 9-inch spring form pan), and use the palm of your hand to shape it to fit (and evenly fill) the entire bottom of the pan.
Roll out the two small pieces of dough to form two strands of equal length that will be long enough to form a cross overtop of the surface of the dough in the pan.
Wet your hands with warm water and place the two dough strands on top of the bread dough in an intersecting fashion to form a cross, then press them down into the dough and continue to flatten the loaf evenly with moistened hands. Using the tines of a fork, follow round the edges of the cross formed by the now flattened strands and score them slightly to ensure that they bond with the surface of the bread and do not come away when rising/baking.
Press the four unshelled walnuts into the four ends of the dough strand cross such that they stand up straight, then sprinkle the entire surface of the loaf with the white and black sesame seeds.
Cover the pan with a cloth and set it aside in a warm, draft-free spot to rise for 1 ½ to 2 hours until it has doubled in bulk.
Once the dough has risen, place the pan in an oven pre-heated to 350°F (180°C) and bake for one our or so, until a deep chestnut colour has formed evenly across its entire surface and the bread is ready.

There you have it, a traditional Greek bread to accompany your Christmas meal.

A Merry Christmas to those of you who do celebrate the holiday, and my Compliments of the Season to all.

Pánta Kalá (Always Be Well),

Sam Sotiropoulos
Greek Gourmand™
http://www.greekgourmand.com
Greek Food Recipes and Reflections
Copyright © 2008, Sam Sotiropoulos. All Rights Reserved.

Galatopita: Milk Pie - Video Recipe

2008-12-03T08:02:00.000-08:00

As for Greek desserts, this is one of my favourites. It is easy to make and tastes great. I posted the original recipe in March and it has generated numerous email responses from people thanking me for sharing it. I decided to publish it as a video recipe to underline the simplicity of making this pie.

The original posting of this recipe along with the ingredient list can be found here. As mentioned in the video, variations of this recipe can include phyllo pastry as a pie shell, the addition of vanilla extract/flavour to the mix, as well as fruit preserves or other spreads as toppings; cinnamon can also be sprinkled overtop. I sincerely hope you will try this recipe and let me know how it turned out for you.

Pánta Kalá (Always Be Well),

Sam Sotiropoulos

Greek Gourmand™

http://www.greekgourmand.com

Greek Food Recipes and Reflections