Welcome to another edition of What's for Dinner?, tonight featuring Greek recipes. This is not my native cuisine; my culinary upbringing can best be described as the "1970s, Irish-German, have-to-feed-a-family-of-8-every-night, oh-no-not-Shake&Bake-pork-chops-again" school. I did, however, have the good fortune to marry a lovely, talented, intelligent Greek immigrant. Now, don't tell her I said so, but for all of her many other accomplishments, my wife is not a terribly good cook. Her parents, however, are both superb cooks. Her mother did the cooking in the home, and her father cooked in diners practically from the day he got off the boat from Greece 40-odd years ago.
As the title suggests, I will be focusing on recipes that Greeks normally prepare in their homes, not the fancy dishes wheeled out for holidays or which you might find in a Greek restaurant here in the States. Besides, if you find yourself in a top Greek restaurant like Milos or Thalassa in NYC, you're going to order fish, right? Well, you should. And what's the recipe for that? Start with the freshest fish imaginable, oil and season it, and grill it over an insanely hot wood fire. Easier said than done, of course, especially at home. And no, sorry, but Greeks do not make gyros at home; try the diner, or better yet, a church festival.
Obtaining recipes from my in-laws does present challenges, however. Language is one, as their English is shaky at best. The lack of any written instructions is also a problem. Not only are they essentially illiterate in English, their written Greek is not much better. This is what happens when you are 7 years old and the school in your remote village closes after the Italians and then the Germans invade, not to reopen until both WWII and the Greek Civil War are over some 10 years later, by which time you have to go to work. Measurements are also somewhat imprecise. "A cup of water" might mean either a 4 oz. teacup or a 12 oz. tumbler, while "a little oregano" could mean anything from a pinch to a tablespoon. And many diner recipes are not Greek in the first place, notwithstanding my father-in-law's insistence that Yankee Bean Soup is of Greek origin (a claim I have advised him never to repeat in the presence of a New Englander). Nevertheless, I have managed to translate and, in some cases, reinterpret a few of their recipes to add to my own repertoire.
Here is one I have revised, for reasons that will become obvious: Stewed Potatoes. My in-laws' version is follows: Peel about 4-5 lbs. of potatoes, cut them into chunks and place in a large pot. Add 2 cups of water, a small can of tomato paste, and 1 cup of olive oil. Partially cover and boil over medium-high heat, stirring frequently to keep the potatoes from sticking to the bottom of the pot, until the potatoes are soft.
Now, if you think this sounds rather oily and bland, it is. This version is strictly cuisine de pauvre, as the French would say. But to my wife, it's comfort food, and represents to her what a Madeleine meant to Proust's Swann, or what your mother's mac & cheese or cornbread might mean to you. Elsewhere in Greece, access to more and better ingredients produces a tastier version:
4 lbs. potatoes
1/2 cup olive oil
1 medium onion, diced
2-3 minced garlic cloves
1/2 cup white wine
1 28 oz. can of good quality diced or crushed tomatoes
1 cup pitted Kalamata olives
3-4 springs each fresh thyme and oregano, or 1 tsp. dried of each
Feta cheese
Salt and pepper to taste
Wash but don't peel the potatoes. Cut them into wedges. Lightly brown them in the olive oil in batches in a large skillet or sauté pan over medium-high heat. They do not have to cook through at this stage. Once they are browned, remove to a plate. Add the onion to the pan and sauté until soft, then add the garlic and sauté another minute. Add wine and let it reduce by 1/2. Then add tomatoes, olives, thyme and oregano, and the potatoes. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat to a simmer, cover, and cook until the potatoes are tender when pierced with a sharp knife. Serve with chunks of feta cheese sprinkled on top. You should add some freshly-ground black pepper, but between the feta and the brine from the olives, you might not need to add salt.
Notwithstanding their relative proximity to Italy, the Greeks have never really taken to pasta, with the exception of the rice-shaped orzo. Here is a variation of a Greek weeknight staple, Chicken with Orzo:
1 3 1/2-4 lb. chicken, cut into pieces, or 8 chicken thighs
1/4 cup olive oil
1/2 cup finely chopped onion
1 minced garlic clove
1/2 cup white wine
1 cup tomato puree
1 tsp. crushed fennel seeds
1/2 tsp. dried oregano
2 cups water
1/2 lb. orzo
juice of 1/2 lemon
Preheat the oven to 350. Heat the oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat on, then add chicken and brown on all sides. Add the onion and cook for 2-3 minutes, then add the garlic and cook for another minute. Add the white wine and reduce by half. Add the tomato puree, fennel, oregano, water and orzo, and bring to a boil. Carefully transfer the contents of the skillet to a large baking dish or Dutch oven, cover, and place in the oven. Check every 10 minutes or so--if the dish seems to be drying out, add more water. Bake for appx. 30-40 minutes or until both the chicken and the orzo are cooked through. Remove from oven, adjust for salt and pepper, and add lemon juice before serving.
Next, a couple of vegetarian recipes. These are usually side dishes, but during Lent become main courses. First, Spanakorizo, or Spinach with Rice:
2 lbs. fresh spinach, thoroughly washed, drained and chopped; or use 2 lbs. thawed, chopped frozen spinach, but squeeze out extra moisture
1 small onion, chopped
1/4 cup olive oil
6 cups water
1 1/2 cups long grain rice
salt and pepper and lemon juice to taste
In a large pot, sauté the onion in the oil until soft. Add the spinach with 1 cup of water and cook until fully wilted. Add the rice and the rest of the water. Bring to a boil, lower heat to a simmer, cover the pot (my mother-in-law leaves the lid slightly ajar), and cook for 20-30 minutes until the rice has absorbed all of the water. Add lemon juice, salt and pepper and serve. NOTE: the dish will have better flavor if you replace the water with chicken stock, but then it wouldn't be vegetarian or Lent-friendly, would it? Someday I'll try it with a vegetable stock and see what happens.
Last, a vegetarian recipe with a little protein, Baked Chickpeas.
1 lb. dried chickpeas, soaked in water overnight (though I don't see why you couldn't use canned chickpeas, rinsed and drained, which don't require soaking)
2 tbsp. dried oregano
1 cup olive oil
3 medium or 2 large onions, thinly sliced
1 large carrot, finely chopped
1 finely chopped chili pepper (not too hot)
4 cloves of garlic, minced
Place chickpeas in a large pot, cover with fresh water, and bring to a boil. Skim any yucky stuff that rises to the surface. Reduce heat to a simmer, add half of the oregano, and simmer uncovered for an hour. Strain the chickpeas, but reserve the liquid; don't pour it down the sink!
Preheat the oven to 300. Place a large skillet over medium heat and sauté the onion, carrot and chili until the onion is translucent. Turn off the heat, then add the garlic, the rest of the oregano, and the chickpeas. Mix, season with salt, and pour the lot into a Dutch oven or earthenware baking dish with a cover. Add 2 cups of the reserved cooking water, stir, cover, and place in the oven. Bake for 60 to 90 minutes, until the chickpeas are tender. Check every 15 minutes or so and add more of the reserved cooking water if the pan seems to be drying out.
I hope you enjoyed out little trip to Greece. If this meets with your approval, maybe I'll come back in a few weeks and post recipes for sauces and spreads--Tzatziki and such. Meanwhile, what's for dinner at your house?