10 minute read
Greek Food Today
Diane Kochilas shares delicious twists from her kitchen to yours
BY TARA Q. THOMAS
It was the spanakopita grilled cheese that got me. There, on TV, was Diane Kochilas, often known as the Greek Food Guru, sandwiching spinach pie filling between two pieces of bread and giving it the American grilled cheese treatment. It was the sort of riff on a classic dish that could have come off as sacrilege, but in her hands—broadcast from her Athens, Greece, kitchen on her own PBS show—it seemed entirely natural, not to mention delicious.
For 30 years, Kochilas has built her career on bringing Greek cuisine to the masses, whether it’s through books—18 at last count—or on TV, on her own shows as well as those of stars including Martha Stewart, Bobby Flay and Andrew Zimmern. She has been filing stories on the country’s foodways for major newspapers and magazines for the three decades, and has run the Glorious Greek Cooking School on her ancestral island of Ikaria since 2003. Respected institutions such as the Culinary Institute of America and Harvard have tapped her for her expertise, and so have numerous restaurateurs. She has consulted for Pylos and Molyvos, two of the top Greek restaurants in New York City, as well as Avli in Chicago and Volos in Toronto. She is currently the consulting chef for Committee in Boston.
Her latest book, however, is a departure from her usual deep dive into the specifics of a place. Instead, it reflects on what she cooks in her own home. “My Greek Table,” a large, lushly illustrated volume that grew out of her PBS show of the same name, is a fascinating peek into what real Greek cooking is today. It captures the feel of a cuisine that’s alive and vital, as diverse as the people who flow through the country and as sensitive to the politics, economics and time pressures as any. Spanakopita sandwiches instead of a phyllo pie? Heck yes. And with a side of her tahini-avocado dip, please.
It took Kochilas a while to get to this point. In part, it’s the double-edged sword of being a foreigner in an adopted land. She is American, the daughter of a Greek immigrant who married a Greek-Italian from Brooklyn and was born in Queens, the largest borough of New York City. “My dad cooked—he worked as a cook in the merchant marine—but he passed away when I was a kid,” she tells me from Athens, where she has lived since 1992. While she came to Greek food free from the constraints that tradition and familiarity can enforce, she also had to work hard to discover what the locals know inherently.
Her exposure to real Greek food was limited until she was 12. “My mother, in her infinite wisdom, wanted to keep a young teenager off the streets of New York in the 1970s,” Kochilas explains. “She was a working mom then, and what was I to do alone in the summer? So she sent me with my older sister to Greece.”
She landed in Ikaria, her father’s homeland, and the connection was instantaneous. “I can’t even begin to describe it,” Kochilas says. “I couldn’t even really speak much Greek. I just remember this feeling of, ‘Wow, this place is really special.’ ” She continued to spend nearly every summer in Greece before heading off to New York University to study journalism. “I’ve always been a writer since I was a little kid,” she reflects. Although she found work as an editor at a magazine afterward, she always returned to Greece. “I can’t get through the year if I don’t spend the summer in Ikaria,” she says, only partly joking.
The island is special, even among the 6,000 that Greece boasts, she says. “Culturally, it’s very different. There’s no natural port, so it was never a stopover on any trade routes, and because the waters around it are very rough, it was always a place of exile, the place the politically unwanted were sent. As a result, there’s an open-mindedness that’s part of people’s DNA and a strong sense of solidarity. It’s also not a particularly materialistic place, so it’s a breath of fresh air.”
It also happens to be full of exceptionally healthy people, something Kochilas noted long before the New York Times Magazine trumpeted Ikaria as part of the “Blue Zone,” where life expectancy far exceeds the norm. On Ikaria, one in three people live beyond 90, and few ever develop heart disease or dementia. The old people may be wrinkled and stooped with age, but they are still gathering in cafes and climbing the stone steps to church. “People are walking everywhere and gardening—bending, stretching, killing the lambs,” Kochilas says.
That’s the place where Kochilas’ approach to food began to take shape. “It’s the Mediterranean diet,” she explains. “Lots of foraged foods—mushrooms, wild greens and herbs—simply prepared. And seasonal —the cuisine is based on really fresh food in season.” While she eats meat, Kochilas thralls to the diversity and resourcefulness of Greek cooks when it comes to plantbased cuisine. “Greece probably has more vegetable main courses than any other cuisine in the Mediterranean,” she says. “There are all sorts of beans and pulses, and all sorts of greens and vegetables, that are steamed or stewed with a lot of olive oil.”
Reading “My Greek Table,” it’s clear just how resourceful and creative Greeks have been over the centuries, taking humble ingredients and preparing them in countless flavorful ways, often influenced by the myriad cultures that have left their impressions on the land. There are the ravioli that nod to the Venetians who once occupied parts of Greece and that Kochilas moves into the modern era by using wonton wrappers instead of handrolled pasta. The five eggplant dishes come from Lesvos, an island she says claims at least 22 unique recipes—a nod to the island’s proximity to Turkey. This means that when you turn to a recipe for Greek Honey Hot Sauce, it doesn’t come across as strange; rather, it’s Kochilas doing what Greeks have always done—absorbing influences and making a dish her own. That particular recipe was inspired by staff meals she has had while working in professional kitchens, many of which are staffed by Mexicans. “Staff meals are always these cultural hybrids,” she says. “Some of my best cooking is in fact those dishes. And I like spicy.”
Diane Kochilas
But if you want to cook like a Greek, it’s best to start with the basics—and the basics are terrifically easy. All you’ll need is a bottle of good Greek olive oil and a lemon. “Greeks are the third largest producers and first in consumption of olive oil,” Kochilas tells me, “and we love lemon.” Lemon juice, in fact, combined with olive oil, makes up what she calls “the most fundamental flavor profile in the Greek kitchen.” Whip together one part lemon juice with three parts olive oil, and you have ladolemeno, a creamy dressing traditionally poured over vegetables and grilled fish. At home Kochilas will sometimes use it in place of mayonnaise dressing in a coleslaw, or add extra lemon so she can make a Greek-accented ceviche.
Interestingly, there’s a bonus beyond taste for blending the two. “The lemon actually helps make the nutrients in foods more available to your body, especially when you’re cooking anything with greens,” she says. “There’s this folk knowledge about it in Greece. Many people don’t know the reasoning behind it; they just do it naturally.” She calls out spanakorizo, a popular dish of rice cooked with spinach, as an example. “The spinach and rice make a complete protein; you squeeze lemon over it, and that makes it much easier for your body to absorb the iron. There are a lot of little secrets like that, that people know innately.”
To add extra flavor to a dish, Greeks tend to look to herbs rather than spice. “That’s not to say [Greeks] don’t use spices—certainly cinnamon and nutmeg, allspice and cumin are fairly common—but the use of herbs is more pronounced,” she says. “And the use of herbs as medicine is still a living tradition; people will make all sorts of herbal teas for all sorts of ailments.”
And Kochilas admits to a few “secret weapons” in the kitchen, like dried-mushroom powder, even though there’s nothing particularly Greek about it. “I just grind dried mushrooms and add the powder to meat and darkflavored dishes,” she explains. And she’s not shy about salt, which intensifies flavors. “The fear of salt in the U.S. is because people eat so much processed foods that they are getting much more salt than they need,” she says. If you lay off the processed foods, there’s no reason to leave off the salt, or to avoid the capers, feta, taramasalata and other saline ingredients that spike so many Greek dishes.
All that said, there are a few differences that take attention to bridge. One is the vegetables themselves. “I just had a conversation with a friend a few nights ago about a pumpkin moussaka recipe she loves, but she was complaining that the pumpkin tends to be watery,” Kochilas relates. “That’s because, in the U.S., everything tends to be overwatered and less flavorful. Greece is quite a dry country, and people don’t water their plants as much, so the fruit here, from olives to strawberries, tends to be intensely flavored.” The difference can require some adjusting. For example, in Kochilas’s take on the recipe in “My Greek Table,” she has replaced pumpkin with a combination of the tighter-fleshed butternut squash as well as sweet potatoes.
The other difference is how people eat. While the average Athenian’s daily schedule now looks all too much just like a New Yorker’s, complete with work-desk lunches and rushed dinners, the epitome of a good meal still means a varied selection of mezes— little plates—to be enjoyed over a drink with family and friends. “There’s no fast rule,” Kochilas says when I ask her how many plates there should be, and what sorts. “The real rule is to have variety—in terms of textures, you’ll want spreads that are soft, as well as things that are crunchy; you’ll want dishes of varied heat levels, some spicy and others milder.” The only constraint as to how many dishes to make is your energy level, she says, but even then, the work can be spread over the course of days. “Dips you can do a day or two ahead of time; phyllo pies, whether individual or whole, you can make ahead and freeze raw, then bake them to order. And a lot of mezes are served at room temperature, so you don’t have to worry about serving them just out of the oven. That goes for all sorts of things, even braised bean dishes and pies,” she says.
As for what to make, well, perhaps the most important lesson to take away from “My Greek Table” is that to cook like a Greek, you don’t have to stick to any recipe. “You sort of know what your guests like,” Kochilas says, adding, “and recipes evolve. The chicken keftedes: That came out of my own head. In Greece we’d more likely use pork or lamb, but that was one that was on the menu at Committee, and we were keeping in mind what people in the U.S. like to eat.” And whereas Greeks would likely serve them with a garlickly yogurt sauce, Kochilas might opt for fresh peas in the summer, whirring them with olive oil and herbs until silky and bright green.
Then Kochilas hesitates. “There is one rule,” she admits. “But it concerns what to serve for a drink. Generally, anything that swims goes well with ouzo or grappa—what we call tsipouro—and everything that walks goes well with wine.” But then again, this is Greece. “Of course that’s not to say that with grilled shrimp, you might not want to have a nice white wine,” she says, and I can practically hear her wink. Anything goes—as long as it’s fresh, seasonal and seasoned with plenty of lemon and olive oil.
Baked Chicken Keftedes
MAKES 6 MEZE (APPETIZER) SERVINGS
Classic Greek meatballs are made with either ground pork, lamb, beef or a combination thereof. Here’s a lighter version, flavored the classic way with plenty of onions, a little garlic and a lot of mint—the telltale herb in all Greek meatballs. Serve these with tzatziki, fresh pea fava, feta cheese dips or yogurt dressings.
2 pounds ground chicken or turkey
3 garlic cloves, minced
2 red onions, finely chopped
1 large egg, lightly beaten
2 tablespoons extra virgin Greek olive oil, plus more for frying
1/2 teaspoon paprika
2/3 cup chopped fresh mint
1/2 cup chopped fresh parsley
1/2 to 1 cup panko bread crumbs
salt and freshly ground black pepper
1. In a large bowl, combine the ground chicken, garlic, onions, egg, olive oil, paprika, mint, parsley and 1/2 cup of the panko. Season with salt and pepper and mix to combine. Test for firm ness by shaping one meatball. If it holds its shape, don't add any more of the panko; if it comes apart, add more of the panko, a tablespoon at a time, until the mixture is firm enough to hold its shape when formed into a meatball.
2. Heat a little olive oil in a small skillet. Take a teaspoon of the mixture and fry it to test for seasoning; adjust accordingly.
3. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper. Form the mixture into 1-tablespoon meatballs. Place them on the prepared baking sheet in neat rows. Cover loosely with plastic wrap and refrigerate for at least 30 minutes or up to 6 hours.
4. Preheat the oven to 350°F. Uncover and bake the meatballs for 20 to 25 minutes, until golden brown, turning gently with a spatula or kitchen tongs, until browned on all sides. Remove from the oven and serve.
Spring Fresh Pea Puree
MAKES ABOUT 3 CUPS
Fava is one of the all-time classic Greek meze [appetizer] recipes, most often made with yellow split peas cooked until they disintegrate into a puree. … Here's a contemporary idea that calls for using fresh or frozen peas. It works well as a sandwich spread or spooned over bruschetta, and it pairs beautifully with ouzo-seared shrimp or grilled or fried seafood.
2 cups fresh or frozen shelled peas
1/2 cup ouzo, or 1 star anise pod
1/4 cup chopped fresh parsley
2 tablespoons chopped fresh tarragon 1
/3 to 2/3 cup extra virgin Greek olive oil
juice of 1 lemon, plus more as needed, strained
Greek sea salt or kosher salt
freshly ground black pepper
2 tablespoons chopped fresh chives or red onion scant 1 teaspoon whole pink peppercorns
2 tablespoons crumbled Greek feta
1. Place the peas in a medium saucepan and add water to cover and the ouzo or star anise. Cover and bring to a boil over medium-high heat. Reduce the heat to low and simmer until tender, about 3 minutes for fresh peas, 3 to 5 minutes for frozen. Drain (discard the star anise, if you used it).
2. Transfer the hot peas to the bowl of a food processor. Add the parsley and tarragon. While pulsing on and off, add enough of the olive oil and lemon juice in alternating increments to achieve a smooth, silky puree. Season with salt and black pepper to taste.
3. Transfer the fava to a serving dish and garnish with the chives, pink peppercorns and feta.
Tip: Do not salt the water when boiling peas because doing so toughens them up.
