Quick, Hot, Fresh- Savory Breads with Feta and Olives.

Filled with good things, these flavorful rolls makes a light meal out of a bottle of wine, or turns a pan of scrambled eggs into brunch. This casual dough comes together in less time than it takes to open a bottle of wine and rinse out the good glasses you keep on the top shelf, or it's enormously flexible- feta or olives are the classic fillings in Greece. Here we use both, but toss in whatever you have, or whatever you like- prosciutto and sauteed onions, for example.

Thanks to self-rising flour, it's basically like juicing up a packaged mix. 

We will need:

500 g/ 4 C self-rising flour

1 tsp. sugar

1/2 tsp salt

some black pepper and some oregano or other herbs of your choice

120 ml/ 1/2 C extra virgin olive oil

2 eggs 

200 g/ 1 C strained yogurt

a large handful of olives, pitted and chopped

a very thick slice of feta, crumbled (put in as much as you like, as long as the dough can hold it together.)

Mix the oil in with the dry ingredients first for a tender crumb.

Add the eggs and the yogurt, and whatever fillings you like. Here, cocktail olives and crumbled feta:

Other choices- sauteed onions and prosciutto, scamorza and sun-dried tomatoes in oil, etc.

Blend with your hands to form a shaggy dough:

Form into rounds or ovals about double the size of an egg, dust with more oregano or some ground black pepper, and bake on non-stick baking paper at 200 C/400 F for about 20 minutes. Served hot, they make an occasion out of anything.

Read More »

Tangy Minty Crisp Sticky Cheese and Honey Pie.

The most indulgent plate I have ever set eyes on was at a taverna in Therisos, a gorge five minutes west of Chania that is known for meat nearly as much as for scenery, each rich with drama. The scenery was lost to darkness; we were there for the meat. But that meat- glistening mahogany, succulent, tinged with char- was not the indulgence I remember. Sitting on a rustic wooden chair outside the kitchen, elegant in Cretan traditional dress of tall boots and a black crocheted mandili, was an absolutely ancient man. He held a full-sized plate heavy with long pointed wedges of Graviera- a local aged semi-hard cheese- blanketed thickly with thyme honey. He had no bread, and no fork. He looked peaceful, and severe, and what with all the honey, a little bit naughty. Drunk with grilled goat chops and a little tipsy on wine, I could not but gaze at his feast. He gave me the barest wry smile of satisfaction before raising a dripping wedge to his mouth.

Cheese and honey is fabulous- common enough in Crete (kalitsounia- delicious small fried cheese pies served with honey, or the thin and severe and delicious Sfakianopita, blistered on a dry griddle) and elsewhere. Any sweet/savory pie gets to me- Bisteeya, Tourte de Blette.... This pie is simplest of these brilliant lunch/dessert pies- serving every want at every hour. As to the mint- mint in some savory dishes can seem exotic for Western palates- we know it most in juleps and ices, patties covered with chocolate. Paired with fresh goat cheese, like in the fabulous and elaborate Cretan Boureki, or with feta, like in this pie, mint is wild and sophisticated and mellow all at once. 

Nothing says Greece outside of Greece like phyllo pastry. It seems intricate and complicated and exotic but actually it is only the last- packaged frozen phyllo is breeze to work with- high impact, low risk. When I am visiting the US and making dinner for friends and family, I use it often, for little mezze pies, or for dessert (Galaktoboureko, a milk and semolina phyllo syrup dessert that makes a less dizzyingly sweet alternative to baklava, is a favorite), or most recently in this pie, ideal as mezze, light lunch, or dessert.  

We will need just:

450 g/1 pound frozn phyllo sheets

about  150 g/ 1 1/4 sticks butter

250 g/ 1/2 pound feta

200 g/ 1 C strained yogurt

about 20 fresh mint leaves, torn small (dried mint in a pinch is also quite good- mint dries well)

Lots of honey, for serving

Take the phyllo from its box and thaw it in its plastic inner package. Get out a clean kitchen towel and dampen it slightly, a dish to bake the pie in, and a pastry brush. Crumble the feta and blend with the yogurt and the torn mint leaves. Melt the butter. When the dough has thawed (it will pliable- it is easy to tell), take it from its package, unroll it, and cover it with the barely damp towel. Phyllo is much easier to work with if it stays pliable. Brush the baking dish with a little butter, lay over a sheet of phyllo, draping and crimping it to leave just a bit of overhand on the sides. It will be full of ruffles, and any torn or broken sheets can be used  just as easily. Brush with butter, and repeat with six or seven more sheets. Cover with the filling, drape the ends over it, 

brushing them likewise with butter, and layer more sheets on top, another six or seven, gathering and crimping them and leaving no overhang this time. and making a very pretty crimping with the top sheets. The ruffles will grab the butter, allow the air to circulate and make them evenly crisp. Messy imperfection bakes up into rustic baroque beauty. 

The pie can sit on the counter for a while at this stage, if you plan to make it before the meal perhaps and serve it for dessert. It's nice to present it hot from the oven, puffed like a souffle from the heat. Half an hour or so before you want to eat it, put it into a 170 f/ 350 c oven, on a low rack so the bottom sheets get a good chance to brown. Keep a close eye on it and remove  it when it is a uniform rich deep golden color (and definitely not light brown), perhaps 25-30 minutes.

Pour honey on the individual slices for beauty- a drizzle for mezze, a cascade for dessert. Of course the pie is wonderful on its own, but the stickiness of the honey sharpens the crispness of the shards of phyllo, the rich dairy tang of the cheese tames the sweetness, making you want more of each, and more of everything.

Read More »

The Aperitif Biscuit- Making an Occasion of the Evening's Glass of Wine.

The maxims of Frank Lloyd Wright* and Marie Antoinette ever in mind, adding a note of formality to everyday life has really taken the edge off of our so-called deprivation. That theme of stubbornly continuing to live well- whether or not it is within our means- keeps rising to the surface. It seems neither it, not we, nor certainly pleasure itself, are to be kept down. These aperitif biscuits- adding very little expense- are one of the many small things we have adopted to add a sense of occasion to the everyday. The glass of dry Cretan wine (tawny bronzy-rich, like a sherry) now becomes an aperitif- accompanied by these biscuits, it is elevated from drink to genteel ritual.

My friend Janet is expecting guests for a week, a good time to share this recipe. It comes together in very little time and makes about 8 dozen, plenty for even two weeks worth of cocktail hours. The heat of the black pepper pairs surprisingly well with the fruit and cheese tray- with the black grapes that have just come in and a wedge of Roquefort, for instance, in case your aperitif hour is so pleasant you want to turn it into dinner itself, as we very often do.

We will need:

700 g/ a scant 6 C flour

1 1/2 tsp. baking powder

1 tsp. baking soda

1 tsp. salt

1 tsp. black pepper, freshly ground (plus quite a bit  more for rolling)

240 ml/ 1 C olive oil

120-200 ml wine

flaky sea salt, several branches  of rosemary, and more freshly ground black pepper, for rolling

Combine the dry ingredients an blend in the oil until the mixture is uniformly cakey and green. (This will shorten the gluten strands in the flour and make the biscuits tender and crumbly rater than tough). Then add as much wine as you need to form a a dough that holds together but is not sticky. 

Wash and chop rosemary and add a tsp. of flaky sea salt and another 1-2 tsp. of black pepper and mix on a plate. Line 2 baking sheets with non-stick paper, and turn the oven on to 170 c/ 350 f.

Take a piece of dough and shape it into a baguette abut the length of your hand and the width of three fingers. Dampen it slightly with a wet finger or two, and roll the baguette lightly in the herb and salt mixture. Place on a baking sheet and continue, until you have 10 or 12 divided between the two baking sheets. Slice them as you like, not too thin though- the width of a pinky is ideal, and arrange the slices evenly, not touching if possible, as they will puff up and expand.

Bake them for 25 - 30 minutes, until they take a bit of color on the bottom and are dry to the touch. They will still yield to the press of a finger but will crisp up as they cool- baked until firm when hot from the oven and they may be dry.

It sound likes a lot of pepper, and it is- many turns of the pepper mill (grind it over a small piece of baking paper- you can then funnel it right into the measuring spoon). We like the lingering heat. They would be fine with less pepper, and with another herb of your choosing- a dry one, like thyme or sage. The recipe makes a tremendous amount in a very short time- forming and slicing them is not five or ten minutes' of playing with child's clay. They keep beautifully, and in fact are not at all tasty fresh from the oven- give them at least an hour or two before serving. They are as nice with sweet milky tea as with wine, but warn your guests- it is a biscuit that bites back.

Formality adds indulgence
much more than it adds expense.

* "Give me the luxuries of life and I will willingly do without the necessities."

Read More »

Savory Biscuit Rings with Scallions and Dill- for Prolonging the Pleasures of Wine, and Everything Else.

Greek baking is rich with glories. Some are lauded and beloved all over (the spanakopita); some shared with countries to the East (the popular baklava being just one of many, many syrup pastries). What has not seen popularity abroad, strangely, is the savory cookie. These fairly oil rich biscuits are more substantial than a cracker, less of a commitment than a savory pie, more satisfying and nourishing than a potato chip, less sweet than a cookie. They fill a lot of wants- how so many of us have done without them is anybody's guess. There really is no occasion, no time of the day, when these are not ideal.

The savory biscuit ring comes in many varieties, and there are yeast risen (much more like our familiar breadstick), and chemically leavened (baking powder) short (that means lots of butter or oil) dough- these are the more substantial. The formula for the short dough biscuits is roughly the same, and these are made from a hybrid of recipes, chiefly to find the right proportion of leavening to flour- enough to make them airy and light, but to leave no trace of the flavor of baking powder. I then improvised, using for flavor and moisture what was at hand- the tops of three bunches of scallions, and a large handful of dill.

The deck of cards is here for scale- be lavish with green things.
It's also a serving suggestion- these are perfect to enjoy at the card table.

We will need:

about 1 liter/ 4 cups loosely packed herbs and scallions 

500 g/4 C flour

15 ml/ 3 1/2 tsp, baking powder

6 ml/ 1 generous tsp. salt

some pepper

240 ml/ 1 C olive oil

120 ml/ 1/2 C retsina, white wine, or water

Wash the dill and scallions and pulse in a blender with the oil:

Note how that large stack of scallions and dill only added 60 ml to the total volume when pureed.

Blend the dry ingredients and add the green onion-herb oil, blending with your fingers:

This stocky little man with the key in his belly is a beloved classic image here. 

The mixture will be crumbly, oily, and vibrantly green. To this, add the retsina:

The oily dough will take it readily as you mix with your hands. 

Add a few more drops of wine to make it workable if you need to. 

The bright emerald color will sadly not survive the heat of the oven, but it does make them more fun to work with, which is a good thing. With the large amount of baking powder activated by the moisture, the dough is already beginning to puff, and with the generous amount of oil it comes apart easily. Take a piece the size of a huge walnut/very small egg and, with determination, make a rope by rolling it on the counter with your fingers. As you do, the dough will begin to split lengthwise; this promises a wonderful crumbling texture when baked. Form a ring:

They do not spread but they do puff- leave just a little space between them on the parchment lined baking sheet. Since the dough splits parallel to the direction it is shaped in, once formed it holds together nicely. The finished cookies are delicate and crumbly in the mouth, but not too fragile on the serving platter.

Bake them at 170 C/ 350 F until they start to turn golden on the bottom, and just a little on the top too. It is a rich dough and may still have a little give hot from the oven- as with many cookies, it will continue to harden as it cools. If baked until crisp to the touch in the oven, they may become dry and lose their flavor.

These are pleasantly filling- good with a glass of wine so as to enjoy it more sensibly. Also a fine choice with coffee and tea. And as a snack for the beach when the sun has depleted you and need a little salt, there really is nothing finer- if they fall in the sand you can just blow it right off (it's the end of April- we'll have to start thinking of these things soon).

Read More »