My Name is Iosifina...

Do you want some coffee with those fish?

noreply@blogger.com (My Name is Iosifina) — Sun, 11 Oct 2015 15:52:00 +0000

I sometimes complain about the way Greeks conduct business. "Do you want a receipt with that? If so, it'll be 25 euros. If not, it'll be 18 euros," they shrug. Or maybe they charge you for 2 kilos of tomatoes when the weight is just 1.75 kilos. I'm always on the defensive when I go to the open bazaar every Friday in the next town. However, Greeks can also be very sweet when they conduct business. One day, my husband and I tried another fish store in Ormyllia, one we'd heard had the freshest fish. As we entered, we saw a display case filled with octopus, sardines, gavros, red snapper, cod, and more.

My husband ordered 2 kilos of gavros, a small fish similar to the sardine, as we like to fry them and eat them whole--bones and all. He asked the lady owner if she would clean them for us. She nodded her head with a smile and asked us if we'd like a cup of coffee while we waited. She turned to a small hotplate in the corner of her shop and proceeded to make us a coffee with her battered briki and in between talking about the upcoming elections, the weather, and the future olive harvest, she asked how much sugar we liked in our coffees. As she handed us our coffee in tiny cups, she motioned for us to sit at the small blue table in front of the display case. Then she turned to the business of preparing 2 kilos (4.4 pounds) of gavros--cutting off the head with her finger while pulling out the guts in one smooth movement. After years of practice, she was fast.

By the time we finished slurping our thick sweet coffee, the fish were packed in a plastic bag and handed over. The dishonest sellers and tax evaders we'd encountered in the past were shamed with this fish seller's generosity and kindness. And she gave us a receipt without our even asking!

Let's start with vinegar....

noreply@blogger.com (My Name is Iosifina) — Tue, 10 Sep 2013 09:28:00 +0000

We have 20 vines of grapes, 10 Merlot and 10 Sultanina (seedless green), and there's only so many grapes two people can eat. Our neighbor Katerina suggested we make wine vinegar, and this is her recipe.

1. Pick the grapes, do not wash them (we do not spray insecticides), and place them in 1-meter tall plastic barrels. Squeeze each clump slightly with your hands to break the grapes open. Cover the barrel with netting (I used netting from past *boubounieras).

2. After 10-15 days, the garage smelled divine! Remove the grapes, squeeze well, leaving the juice in the barrel. Discard the squeezed grapes.

3. Pour the juice through a strainer (again, netting from past boubounieras) into a large glass 15 liter bottle (here called a damitzana--demijohn?).

4. Add water in the ratio of 10:1 or one container of water for every 10 containers of grape juice. Also add 1 cup of vinegar for every 10 liters of juice (acts as a yeast/starter).

5. Add a small handful of any kind of pasta. I am not kidding. Use spaghetti, elbow macaroni, rotini....add the cork/lid slightly off kilter to allow air to escape from the demijohn/bottle as it ferments, and to allow a small vinegar-loving fly to enter and leave. Again, I am not kidding you..

6. After 30 days, strain (hello, boubounieras) through netting into smaller, cuter bottles to store and/or give to friends.

*Boubounieras are given to guests at weddings and baptisms in Greece. They are usually made of netting holding candied almonds and tied with beautiful ribbon. To see traditional and modern boubounieras plus more items for weddings and baptisms, visit my friend Maria Zeaki's website.

Recipe for Preparing Olives

noreply@blogger.com (My Name is Iosifina) — Thu, 27 Sep 2012 17:02:00 +0000

Recipe for Preparing Olives

This year we picked enough Halkidiki olives to fill nine 2.5 liter and two 1 liter containers of olives. I call these olives "little taters" because they're so huge. Two people could share one olive and be full!

Two of the nine jars have sliced or slit olives, two have cracked (great stress reliever to crack them between two flat rocks), and the rest are whole olives. After changing water every day for one week, we prepared the brine (salamoura) this way:

1. In a 15 liter plastic barrel filled with water, we added two 500 grams bags of coarse salt and two large wooden soup spoons of limon du ju or citric acid powder. To fill these eleven jars, we made one and a half of this mixture.

2. To get this measurement, we tested with a fresh egg (Thank you, Magda and your chickens!). You've added enough salt when the fresh egg floats just to the top and only about a quarter-size area of the egg is exposed to the air. (Actually, we've been told a 1-euro coin size, but it's about the size of a U.S. quarter.)

3. Empty out the last dose of fresh water and fill with the brine to just cover the little

plastic floater.

4. Top off with about a 1/2 inch of olive oil to seal. Replace the lid and keep in a dark, cool location. The cracked olives will be ready to eat in just two months. The sliced and whole take a bit longer.

If Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers....

noreply@blogger.com (My Name is Iosifina) — Wed, 08 Aug 2012 14:24:00 +0000

Make your own pickled peppers...Easy!

You will need:

--a bunch of medium sized banana peppers and/or small thin skinned peppers

--red wine or apple cider vinegar

--salt

--one head of garlic

--one bouquet of broad leaf parsley

--olive oil

In a large pot, fill with water and about half cup of vinegar. Bring to boil. Blanch the peppers for about a minute (be sure to poke each pepper with a fork beforehand) and drain. Chop the parsley and sliver each clove of garlic. Set aside. In a large glass or clear plastic container, begin to layer the parsley, garlic, peppers, squirt of vinegar and a good salting. Repeat until the jar is full. Fill to the top with olive oil.

Leave on your kitchen counter for a day or two and then refrigerate. When you want to serve, pull out a few of the peppers along with the garlic and parsley. Save the juices/oil to make another batch when your garden says, "Enough, already!"

noreply@blogger.com (My Name is Iosifina) — Thu, 05 Jul 2012 09:00:00 +0000

Too many zucchini! Here is a quick and easy casserole to make if you're asking yourself, "What do I do with all these zucchini?"

In a fairly large casserole dish, slice 5-7 medium sized zucchinis, 1-2 sliced onions, a couple of mashed garlic cloves, one tomato cubed. Toss with a little olive oil, salt and pepper. Put in oven for 40 minutes at 350 F.

While that is browning in the oven, melt 1/2 stick of butter or margarine, stir in2-3 TBL flour. Then add 1 cup white wine (I used Retsina, a white Greek wine) and 1 cup milk. Bring to a simmer until thickened, then add a handful or two of Monterrey Jack or Kasseri or any cheese you like. When the vegetables are browned, pour the sauce over, sprinkle with more cheese and continue baking 10-15 minutes until the top is browned.

noreply@blogger.com (My Name is Iosifina) — Sun, 17 Jun 2012 13:34:00 +0000

I just discovered a wonderful website where you can make your own word cloud. I chose this blog's words to be formed into a bird. You can choose other shapes, text, and colors and save it to use as you wish. Go to http://www.tagxedo.com

noreply@blogger.com (My Name is Iosifina) — Sat, 16 Jun 2012 09:21:00 +0000

Helidonia (swallows) live with us. When we lived upstairs, these helidonia built their architecturally sound and so efficient nests under the eaves. But when we moved downstairs to more spacious living area, we did not frequent the upstairs veranda area very often except to retrieve one more glass or to store something in the freezer. And the helidonia population dwindled. We didn't know why. We still see them from time to time and their nests still populate one side or our house, but they no longer build their nests above the sliding glass door we opened 100 times a day. There is less helidonia poop to clean up, but we miss our birdie friends.

A neighbor sat drinking a cup of coffee with us one evening last week and asked about our helidonia. He told us that they like to build their nests and live where people live. They interact with people. The more the merrier! When we moved away, they moved away, too. Interesting phenomenon.

The other bird population we have here is the sparrow who builds nests inside our ceramic roof tiles.

Each morning we are awakened by the trill, whoop, tweet and joy of helidonia and sparrows and more birds...as yet unidentified.

What to do with all that apricot jam? Make Pasta Flora!

noreply@blogger.com (My Name is Iosifina) — Wed, 30 May 2012 10:21:00 +0000

I made all this apricot jam. Now what? Make Pasta Flora!

My mother-in-law used to make too much apricot jam when her four grandchildren from America went to visit for the summer in Greece. She was disappointed they didn't eat more of her homemade jam, so she got them to help her make pasta flora and ....eat more jam!

Here is an easy recipe:

1 c. corn or vegetable oil

1/3 c. orange juice

3 TBL brandy (optional)

1 TBL orange or lemon peel grated

3-3 1/2 c. all purpose flour

3 tsp. baking powder.

Mix wet ingredients and then add dry. Mix just until all is moistened and it forms into a ball. Divide in half. Pat out half of the dough into a round 10-12 inch pan pushing the dough up the sides slightly to form a crust. Slather well with apricot (or any other kind of jam) jam (about 1/2" thick). With the other half of the dough, roll (here's where little hands can help you) dough into ropes and form a lattice on top of the tart. Bake at 350 F for about 30-35 minutes until golden.

Apricot Jam

noreply@blogger.com (My Name is Iosifina) — Sat, 26 May 2012 07:43:00 +0000

The apricot tree is empty now. I made 4 batches of apricot jam this week. The recipe is simple. Fortunately, apricots have pectin, so you just need 8 cups of ripe apricots (remove pit and pull apart), 6 cups or one kilo sugar, and juice of one large lemon. Bring to boil, skim off foam, and boil until thickened.

Pour into clean jars, add lid tightly, and turn upside down. When cool, you will have a sealed jar of apricot jam. What a beautiful color!

Greek Carrots

noreply@blogger.com (My Name is Iosifina) — Wed, 04 Apr 2012 15:25:00 +0000

I read about some carrot recipes on NPR today, and they all looked good; however, NPR did not include my sister-in-law's special garlicky carrots.
Boil one package of baby carrots until tender.
Drain and immediately add 2 cloves of minced garlic, a good douse of olive oil, and juice of half a lemon and return lid. Stir to distribute the oil/lemon and garlic. Let sit for a few moments with the lid on to allow the steam to soften the garlic bits. Salt to taste.

You will have boiled carrot haters change their minds when they eat these carrots!

Olive Harvest 2011 - Vatopedi, Halkidiki, Greece

noreply@blogger.com (My Name is Iosifina) — Mon, 05 Dec 2011 15:45:00 +0000

September 20, 2011

The olive pickers are here. Sounds are amplified on the hill where we live amidst quiet olive tree heaven, so early one morning last week we heard a large truck rattling up a nearby dirt road, and then the voices began wafting over the tops of the trees. The men’s voices weren’t speaking Greek, most likely Albanian or Bulgarian. Since it is mid-September, the early green eating-olives are being picked. Later, the oil-producing olives will be picked, and even later in November the black eating-olives will be picked. The longer you leave olives on the tree, the darker they get and the more oil is produced. Our neighbor told us that some very large trucks arrive from Florence, Italy each year to buy the large Halkidiki olive (the largest in Greece), they pay well, and then they drive back to Igoumenitsa via the Egnatia highway where they board the ferry back to Italy.

The pickers earn about 2.50-3 euros per crate of olives they pick in our region, and the farmer earns just 80-90 euro cents per kilo, yet to buy processed olives in the super markets here can cost between 6 and 8 euros per kilo. An acquaintance in the village told us that all talk now in the kafeneion revolves around olives: how much the olive industry agents are paying, what insecticides didn’t work this year, whose dakos (a worm that enters the olive and makes the pressed oil taste bitter) damage was the greatest, how the Greek economy has hurt the olive growers. Some call it men’s gossip, but the men consider it “sharing information.”

September 25, 2011

I was hanging out my laundry on the clothesline this morning and heard and saw Vassilis’ olive pickers at work. Amidst their laughter and chatter, I heard the sound of olives hitting the baskets. He hires 8-10 pickers and tries to hire a mix of Albanian and Bulgarian pickers; they don’t speak each other’s language and they keep an eye out for theft. Each picker gets 2.50 euros per basket they pick. That many pickers can gather in up to 75 baskets per day. Each basket weighs about 25 kilos or 55 lbs. Vassilis estimates it will take 5-6 days to pick all of his eating-type of olives. This year the olive agents are paying the producers about 80-90 euro cents per kilo. (Kroger has Halkidikis olives in their olive bar: $9.99/lb.) And each agent or olive press pays the same amount. One of Vassilis’ sons said, “san cartel like a cartel.”

Yesterday morning we stopped by Vassilis and Asimenia’s house in the village to see how they were sorting their olives. We jumped in and offered to help them. It was so much fun, we later returned at 5pm and did another 2 hr stent! The olives are dumped into a bin that shoots them out and down a conveyer belt that is wired to allow certain sizes to go in one bin and others to go in another. Three people were spotting them at the beginning to pick out those olives that had been bitten by the hated dakos, an olive-loving worm that often resists all the pesticides that are sprayed on the olives all summer long. And another person (me!) spots them again as they fall into the baskets.

These dakos are very clever as their entry point is just pin prick size, but they go all the way to the pit to eat the olive’s goodness. If the dakos travels with the olive to the olive press, the resulting oil can be bitter. A few are ok, but none is better! It took us about 2 hours to sort through 25 baskets. As soon as they’re filled, they stack them in the back of a truck and drive to the olive press which buys eating-olives and presses olives for oil later in the season.

September 30, 2011

Today Yianni’s sister Dimitra, our nephew Nikos, and his friend Kostas came out to pick as many eating olives as they wanted before we pick them for oil pressing. We had a lovely day as Yianni grilled chicken and pork chops while they picked.

October 5, 2011

My olives are bigger than your olives.

We just returned from witnessing the pressing of our own olive oil: agourelaio or olive oil from unripened olives, supposedly the healthiest olive oil. Our friend Aristotelis who lives in the Peloponnesus, southern Greece, says their elaiotrivio (olive press) doesn’t even open until the end of October because most people wait until their olives are ripened in order to get the most oil from them. In about two hours, we went from 6 huge 50 lb. bags of olives to almost 2 denikedes or about 22 kilos of olive oil from about 7 mature trees. Twenty two of our forty two trees are very young and some trees were bare (just not their year). Our helper Fatmir used his hands and a special “comb” to bring down the olives onto a tarp. The olives were then put into crates or into special olive bags which we loaded in the car and drove about 24 km to a village called Portaria outside Nea Moudania and Elaiotriveio Savvas run by his widow Eleni, a very nice lady who told us she had cousins in Michigan and Arizona. When she asked our last name for her records, she looked at us, waved her hand, and said “Amerikan.” The olives were emptied into a bin. Along the way, leaves were blown outside through a chute. The olives were then carried up to a washing area and ground into a lovely aromatic mush. After that, we didn’t see them; they were processed with water and the separation then occurred.

Olive leaves are blown away through a chute outside.

An electric, almost neon colored chartreuse oil was the result.

As we were waiting for the oil to appear, another customer lady (she was the “baker”) standing nearby ran her finger through the stream of oil (belonging to another customer) and licked her finger. I was hoping she wasn’t standing there when our oil came through! It took about 2 hours from start to finish with two customers ahead of us. You could bring your own containers to carry your oil home or buy new denikedes (cans) for about 2 euros each. Each denike holds about 15 liters of oil. To make oil from our olives, the press charged us 13% of our production (22 kilos) or 3.90 euros x 2.86 kilos= 11.15 euros. Quite a deal!

Olives are washed.

The "Amerikan's" mush next to the "Baker's" mush.

Olive mush

Final product: This neon green will return to a clear olive color after it settles.

Pomegranate Juice Becomes Ruby Liqueur

noreply@blogger.com (My Name is Iosifina) — Sat, 08 Oct 2011 11:34:00 +0000

Today Yianni and I removed the seeds from about 8 pomegranates our neighbor gave us. His trees had a problem with most of the pomegranates splitting open, so he gathered all of them.

Last evening at a gathering at his house, we talked about different ways we could use the juice. The Swiss doctor (he's Greek but lives in Switzerland, so he's the Swiss doctor just as Yianni is Greek but lived in the US, so he's the Amerikanos) said that he mixed half pomegranate juice and half Greek Metaxa brandy into bottles and served as a liqueur. My friend Sherry's recipe from her son's girlfriend Marina is this: Add 1/2 liter juice to 3 cups sugar and a cinnamon stick in a large bottle. Place in the sun for 20-40 days. Then add half as much vodka to the juice mixture. Ready to serve!

After we removed the seeds, I used my upright mixer and pulverized seeds. I then used some netting leftover from wedding boubounieres to strain the juice from the pulp into a large casserole pot. If you don't have such a mixer, cut the pomegranate in half and squeeze it as you would a lemon or orange half. I made enough to make two bottles of ruby liqueur--Yianni just put them on the gazebo's roof to absorb the Greek sun. Let's see what 20 days will bring us!

Kalimera!

noreply@blogger.com (My Name is Iosifina) — Wed, 28 Sep 2011 07:04:00 +0000

Kalimera = Good morning!

Agapi = Love

Eftihia einai mia apofasi = Happiness is a decision

Glorious Figs!

noreply@blogger.com (My Name is Iosifina) — Fri, 23 Sep 2011 15:27:00 +0000

....Kadota, Everbearing, Brown Turkey, Nero....Flanders, Black Mission, Pingo del Mel, Lee's Perpetual....and the names continue for that lovely fruit, the fig. Our trees and our neighbor's laden branches hanging over our fence are producing lovely figs this year. Although I don't know the specific name of these Greek fig trees, I researched and discovered a myriad of fig names fit for a long poem. Instead of writing a poem, I gathered some fig leaves and used them as stamps on a white canvas. I then wrote every name for figs I'd discovered on the canvas to remind me of figs in Halkidiki.

I won a blog writing contest!

noreply@blogger.com (My Name is Iosifina) — Sun, 18 Sep 2011 06:46:00 +0000

I just discovered that I won the 2011 Knoxville Writers' Guild contest for blog writing! I am amazed and very thankful that others considered me. My entries were Pantzaria (January 7, 2008) and Cherry Liqueur (November 10, 2008).

Who can resist nice, smooth rocks?

noreply@blogger.com (My Name is Iosifina) — Fri, 16 Sep 2011 14:55:00 +0000

Yianni and I went swimming yesterday, and the beach was all ours. If you want to visit Greece, plan it in September. The tourists have gone home, and Greek children began school on Sept. 12. I couldn't believe how empty and lovely it was. I began picking up the roundest, smoothest, flattest rocks lapping in the waves and came home with a bounty all lined up on one of our low walls. I chose six and went to my "studio" upstairs. Since olive trees surround our house, I've grown to love their delicate leaves, warped trunks, and the future oil and edible olives that await us this fall. And I needed something to hold down the tablecloth and napkins from flying away when we eat outside!

Quick Gazpacho!

noreply@blogger.com (My Name is Iosifina) — Mon, 05 Sep 2011 09:59:00 +0000

We love horiatiki salata, a Greek salad of tomatoes, cucumbers, onions, bell peppers, and feta cheese with a splash of olive oil and red wine vinegar. It's a daily staple in our life here. However, my husband recently had dental surgery and needed to eat smooth foods for a while. Solution: with my handy Bosch stick mixer, I added the horiatiki salata to the container and brrrrrrrrrr, instant gazpacho soup!

Make your own melitzana salata (mehl-ee-TZAHNA sahl A tah)

noreply@blogger.com (My Name is Iosifina) — Mon, 22 Aug 2011 06:54:00 +0000

I found beautiful eggplants or melitzanes at the market the other day and decided to make my own Melitzana Salata. In other cultures, it's called baba gahnoosh. While you're grilling hamburgers or chicken this weekend, throw 3 eggplants on the grill. Prick each one a few times with a fork. Turn often until they're very soft. It's ok if they get burned a bit on the outside.

When cool enough to handle, scoop out the inside pulp and add:

2 TBL freshed chopped parsley

1/4 c. olive oil

3 cloves of minced garlic

a squirt of lemon juice so the eggplant pulp doesn't darken

salt to taste

Stir vigorously Chill and you've got a wonderful eggplant dip to go with anything you take off the grill. And if you can say Melitzana Salata to your guests, they will be impressed!

Apricot Jam is soooooo Easy!

noreply@blogger.com (My Name is Iosifina) — Thu, 23 Jun 2011 06:16:00 +0000

Gather up a large bowl of apricots, even those that have fallen and have a bruise or two. You are a forgiving person. Brush off the gnats, ants, and flies who have gathered at their feast, wash the apricots, remove pits and cut each apricot into fourths. To 8 cups of fruit, add 6 cups of sugar, juice of half a lemon, and if you have a left over apple, grate it into the pot (for pectin). You will see that the sugar and juice marry into a soon-bubbling aromatic elixir. Continue boiling and stirring for about 30 minutes. Skim off the foam and discard. To test this jam, spoon a bit on a flat plate, smooth it around to cool and see if it's thick enough. When you think it is done, pour into jars, tighten the lids and turn them upside down to cool.

Make your own "Greek" yogurt!

noreply@blogger.com (My Name is Iosifina) — Thu, 10 Mar 2011 14:21:00 +0000

Greek yogurt has recently become the superstar in TV ads, and now you see several brands of Greek yogurt in the grocery stores. Make your own Greek yogurt!

Empty a carton of plain yogurt (avoid those yogurts that contain corn starch and other thickeners--get real yogurt!) into a glass bowl. Place several layers of paper towels on top and put in the refrigerator. In a couple of hours, remove those towels and replace with more paper towels. In a couple of hours, remove the paper towels and you will have lovely thickened yogurt!

When We Were Strangers

noreply@blogger.com (My Name is Iosifina) — Tue, 25 Jan 2011 16:50:00 +0000

My friend Pamela Schoenewaldt has written a wonderful novel, When We Were Strangers, arriving on book shelves January 25, 2011. I've always been attracted to stories about immigrants (I was a "foreigner" for 8 years of my adult life--4 in Greece and 4 in Switzerland) and how they adapt to a new culture. This story feeds my interest and more. Although the novel is about an Italian, there is also a Greek involved. My husband Yianni and I were happy to answer questions about Greek life whenever Pamela asked, so I've seen this novel evolve and flower.

“If you leave Opi, you’ll die with strangers,” Irma Vitale’s mother always warned. But Irma is too poor and too plain to marry and can’t find honest work in her tiny mountain village in Southern Italy. Barely twenty, she must leave home bearing only native wit and astonishing skill with a needle. Risking rough passage across the Atlantic, a single woman in a strange land, Irma seeks a new life sewing dresses for gentlewomen.
Swept up in the crowded streets of nineteenth-century America, Irma finds workshop servitude and miserable wages, but also seeds of friendship in the raw immigrant quarters. When her determination leads at last to Chicago, Irma blossoms under the hand of an austere Alsatian dressmaker, sewing fabrics and patterns more beautiful than she’d ever imagined. Then this tenuous peace is shattered. From the rubble, confronting human cruelty and kindness, suffering and hope, a new Irma emerges, nurturing a talent she’d never imagined and an unlikely family, patched together by the common threads that unite us all."
(Taken from http://pamelaschoenewaldt.com/)

Reviews:
When We Were Strangers is a Spring 2011 Selection for the Barnes & Noble Discover Great New Writers Program, a Book-of-the-Month Club and Doubleday Book Club alternate selection for January, 2011.

“Schoenewaldt’s heartbreaking debut is the late 19th century immigrant coming-of-age story of poor, plain Irma Vitale…Irma’s adventures and redeeming evolution make this a serious book club contender.” — Publishers Weekly

“Lucid, unembellished prose that draws your attention to what’s important…When We Were Strangers transports you convincingly into Irma Vitale’s life as she journeys toward self-discovery, toward a place to belong, toward love.” — Michael Knight, author of The Typist

“I was caught up in this compelling tale from page one. In vivid and inventive prose Pamela Schoenewaldt spins out the story of immigrant Irma Vitale’s odyssey from her tiny Italian village to the jostling crowds of urban America in the l880s–a heroine of courage and grit in a time of tumultuous change and opportunity. I was eager to follow every twist and turn. As a reader and frequent reviewer I long for this kind of lovely prose. A cut above.” — Carolly Erickson, author of The Hidden Diary of Marie Antoinette

“Readable and engaging…The language is deceptively simple, the people as real as your own family, and the tale realistic enough to be any American’s …This is a story that is not finished simply because the reader has reached the last page–a memorable novel.” — Nancy E. Turner, author of These is My Words

Read more reviews at http://pamelaschoenewaldt.com/

Irena's Corn Chowder

noreply@blogger.com (My Name is Iosifina) — Sat, 22 Jan 2011 16:17:00 +0000

I have fond memories of my mother Irena's corn chowder, the ultimate comfort food on a cold day. Although I grew up in Roswell, New Mexico and there were few cold days, when you ate this corn chowder, you dreamed of a cold day! My mother grew up during the Depression and WWII in rural Ohio so she learned many recipes using Spam, such as her Mexican spaghetti which I will share....another day!

1 chopped onion
1 can of Spam (or leftover ham) cubed
1 can of creamed corn
1 can of kernel corn, drained
3-4 potatoes peeled and cubed
2 c. milk
water
paprika

Saute the Spam (ham) sprinkled generously with paprika. Add onions and continue to saute until onions are translucent. Add the corn and potatoes. Add about 2 c. of water to cover. Bring to boil and simmer until the potatoes are tender. Add the milk and continue simmering until the smell in your house overpowers you to do something about it--eat your corn chowder. You deserve it!

noreply@blogger.com (My Name is Iosifina) — Wed, 05 Jan 2011 20:28:00 +0000

(2005) Taken from the peninsula Sithonia looking
across to the peninsula Kassandra, Halkidiki in
northern Greece. The pelican's name is Yiorgos.

Find more artists like Kalia at Myspace Music

Your Kerchief, Yianni (Epirus)

Your kerchief, Yianni, dearest love, why is it soiled and dirty?
--Come, Yanno, come, Yiannaki dear, come now my handsome fellow.

It was soiled while I was far from home, in distant lonely places.
O Mother dear, they stole my heart, they stole my heart quite away.
Five rivers tried to wash it clean, all five took on its color.

--Come, Yanno, come, Yiannaki dear.
And they in turn did dye the sea and all the ships that sailed it.
--Come, Yanno, come, Yiannaki dear, come now my handsome fellow.

This is a fine example of songs about living in foreign lands, i.e. xenetia. Every one of these laments will break your heart.

Treasured Greek Home Remedies

noreply@blogger.com (My Name is Iosifina) — Mon, 06 Dec 2010 16:39:00 +0000

My mother-in-law Vera passed along to me some valuable home remedies that really work when you don't have access to store-bought medicines.

Upset tummy: Swallow a few olive pits (have someone else eat the olive, rinse the pits, and swallow). My mother-in-law gave them to her four children when they complained of an upset stomach. My friend Pamela Schoenewaldt used this remedy in her soon-to-be-published novel When We Were Strangers (HarperCollins, 2011). In a critical scene in her novel, the protagonist Irma is sick with typhoid. Her love Niko takes care of her and outrages Irma's Irish friend by having the delirious Irma eat olive pits, and...Irma gets better!

Fever: When I was 6 months-pregnant with Antigone, I came down with the flu. My mother-in-law peeled and sliced a potato into 3 round slices about 1/2" thick. She placed them onto my father-in-law's diagonally folded handkerchief and tied the handkerchief (with the 3 potato slices next to my forehead) around my head. The potato slices remained cool, unlike wet washcloths that quickly heat up), and Mama said the potato "drew" out the fever.

Nausea: Burn a piece of toast! Scrape off the burned black crumbs into a glass of water (about 1/4 cup or less). Drink. I know this works because when I had flu another time, I could not keep even chamomile tea down.

Headache: If you are unable to take aspirin or other pain relievers for a headache, try this. Again, lay out a man's handkerchief diagonally folded. Place cotton batting on the middle portion of the handkerchief and douse the cotton generously with rubbing alcohol. Sprinkle black pepper on top of the cotton, too. Place the cotton batting-alcohol-pepper side at the base of your head in the back and tie the handkerchief in front. Soon the cool/hot will provide relief from your headache.

Diarrhea: Squeeze the juice of one lemon into a small glass. Add one teaspoon of instant coffee. Drink. Believe me it works as well as it tastes bad!

Universal Cure-All: Brew a cup of chamomile tea for all of the following.

a newborn baby's thrush,
a cut or abrasion (antiseptic),
hair rinse for blondes,
feminine douche,
sleep-aid for the elderly and newborns,
calm the nerves,
colds, flu, upset tummies.

I published "Chamomile: A tea of choice for gods and newborn babies" in the Knoxville Writers' Guild's, Literary Lunch: Food Anthology of Poetry, Essays, Shorts Stories & Memoirs (2002):

Having grown up in Roswell, New Mexico before "new age" teas of every herb became common, I knew only the standard black tea that my elderly disabled neighbor across the street made me in her fancy pink and gold cup after I vacuumed her house. I was twelve years old. Mrs. Bickford served it to me with a little pitcher of milk and some sugar cubes on the side and told me how to hold my pinkie finger when I lifted the cup. I thought she and the tea in such a fancy cup were the height of sophistication. But I grew up and found other teas.

The best tea came from a Greek god. A couple of months after meeting this god, I came down with an intestinal flu. I was a freshman in college a thousand miles from home and sick on my own for the first time. My roommate called my god, and told him I was sick. He told her to stand by the side door of our all-female dormitory, and he would meet her in ten minutes. She soon came to my side with a thermos of hot chamomile tea and a bag of yellow lemons. Chamomile to soothe my tummy, and a lemon to suck on after my nausea attacks. The lesson to my daughters will remain: don’t marry him until he brings you lemons and chamomile. Then you’ll know he’s the right one.

After our move to Greece to live happily ever after, I discovered more about chamomile tea. This small plant with tiny daisy-like flowers grows in a dry sandy soil. On our walks in the countryside with my mother-in-law, we often picked chamomile to take home. She placed the flowers between her cupped fingers and pulled off only the flower heads. She spread them out on a white sheet and placed them on a sunny tin roof to dry. After drying, we put them in a white cloth bag with a draw string. Before zipper-lock plastic bags, women made cloth bags from worn sheets or pillow cases to store herbs. To make the tea, she placed two large tablespoons of the dried chamomile flower heads in a little wire strainer and poured boiling water over the flowers, letting the strainer sit in the water a bit. A fragrant dark yellow brew emerged.

I soon became a true-believer in chamomile as a universal healer, soother of tummies, wounds, and bruised souls. When our second daughter, Antigone, was born in Athens, Greece at Elenas Hospital, the midwives-in-training gave her sugared chamomile tea between breast feedings. Chamomile is given to newborn and colicky babies as a calming addition to mother’s milk. Shortly after she and I returned home, Antigone developed thrush. My pediatrician told me to make a strong chamomile tea and, with a clean gauze pad, wipe out her mouth after each breast feeding. The thrush soon disappeared.

A Greek friend of mine used chamomile as a feminine douche. Another friend rinsed her natural blonde hair in chamomile after every shampoo to enhance the blonde highlights. When my son Niko was a toddler, he fell on the corner of our coffee table cutting a slash clear through his ear lobe. Fearing a permanent scar, I took him immediately to our pediatrician. Instead of a stitch, he told me to make a strong chamomile tea and bathe his ear lobe with the dark yellow liquid 3-4 times a day. Healing occurred with no scar. Chamomile doesn’t sting like alcohol, iodine, mercurochrome, or hydrogen peroxide when touching sensitive cuts and scrapes. Alexia fell on her bike scraping the underside of her arm--quick, make some chamomile tea. Vera fell on the gravel and punctured her knee--out came the chamomile tea. When we feel a cold or flu approaching, we brew a cup of chamomile. The amber elixir soothes nerves at the end of a hectic day and serves as a natural sedative, much like warm milk before bed time.

I cannot find chamomile growing in East Tennessee, and the white cloth bags my mother-in-law gave me are lying empty and folded in my kitchen drawer. But in our kitchen we always keep boxes of store-bought chamomile tea bags-- and fresh lemons.

Stay healthy in 2011, my friends, and always keep some chamomile tea in your kitchen cabinet! More about lemons in another post.

Orange Coffee Liqueur

noreply@blogger.com (My Name is Iosifina) — Wed, 24 Nov 2010 13:30:00 +0000

It's past time to begin your holiday easy orange coffee liqueur. This recipe is the traditional European "44."

Wash and dry a juicy orange. Slice almost to the center of the orange about 4-5 times.
Push in 44 coffee beans into the slits.
Place the coffee beaned orange into a quart size jar.
Add 44 sugar cubes or 12 tablespoons of sugar.
Cover with 1 quart vodka.
Put on the lid and turn upside down a few times to dissolve the sugar.
Store for 44 days (see why we're late making this?) in a cool dark place.
When done, strain through a paper coffee filter into a decanter or pretty bottle. Discard the orange and coffee beans.

See my other recipe for making cherry and pomegranate liqueurs (2008)!