A 2 Part Tale of 2 Plants in 2 Countries with 2 Recipes: Purslane-Tomato Salad (Ντομάτα Σαλάτα με Γλιστρίδα) and Beach Lovage-Tomato Salad/Salsa (Ντομάτα Σαλάτα με «Άγριο Σέλινο»)

Introduction

In Greece, friends and relatives are endlessly curious about Alaska. We’re quizzed about daylight, animal life, cost of living, how many thousand miles we live from family. Every exotic Alaskan detail is examined and catalogued.

Back in Alaska, a vast land peopled largely by recent transplants, we describe life on a Greek island in a small village filled with relatives (family roots on the island go beyond reach of transmitted memory). We divert Alaskans with stories of family intrigues, open-handed generosity, and island bureaucratic snafus.

Greece and Alaska could not be more different. Yet, in both places, I shop for groceries, forage for wild edibles, and cook with abandon.

A friend of mine recently asked whether a dish cooked in a Greek kitchen tastes the same when made in Alaska. The simple answer: no.  The same recipe tastes different in Greece and Alaska because the ingredients aren’t the same in the two places.

For example: Greek tomatoes have more flavor, as do Alaska spinach and lettuce. Wild greens available in Greece don’t grow in Alaska and vice versa. American and Greek flour, butter, and eggs all bake up differently. Similar differences are found with virtually every ingredient. In both countries, I use the same basic recipes, but the results always vary, sometimes slightly, sometimes significantly.

No matter where one cooks, the key to a good result is tasting what you are making as you are make it. No one should ever blindly follow a recipe (even mine), no matter how trusted the source. The flavors of vegetables, herbs, spices, meats, cheese, fruits, you name it, all change subtly from purchase to purchase and day to day. The only way to compensate for these changes, and to generally adjust a recipe to please your palate, is to taste.

Two articles with recipes follow that illustrate this point. Part One was written in Greece last summer. It’s about purslane, Portulaca oleracea, a weed growing rampant in much of the world (including North America, but not Alaska). I combined the purslane with tomato to make a cooling salad.

Part Two is about a recent gathering expedition for beach lovage, Ligusticum scoticum, in Alaska. Using the Greek Purslane-Tomato Salad as the starting point, I tweaked the flavors to accommodate my Alaskan ingredients.  I served Beach Lovage-Tomato Salad with grilled king salmon; loaves’ herby freshness and the salad’s tart dressing nicely complimented king salmon’s richness.

Part One: Purslane-Tomato Salad in Greece

For years, our yard in Greece was a wasteland of weeds.  Every year on arrival we whacked down the tangle and borrowed a truck to haul away several loads of debris.

Our messy yard contrasted sharply with the carefully tended gardens of family, friends, and neighbors. Cousin Effie has an especially green thumb.  Most of her yard is paved over, but her narrow strip garden holds an impressive collection of flowering plants.

A couple years ago, Effie was sighing over her lack of a vegetable garden.  Since she lives only a few blocks away, and we are in Alaska for most of the year, we suggested she use our yard.

Now, when we arrive in Greece, we open the gate to a healthy, green garden, both decorative and edible, instead of a jungle. We planted roses and a bottle brush tree.  Effie and cousin Tzani have surrounded them with smaller, flowering plants. Blue jasmine from Tzani and a sweet-smelling white-flowered vine climbs the neighbor’s wall. What were tiny rosemary starts are now bushes.

This year the vegetable garden includes eggplant, okra, green beans, summer squash, tomatoes, mint, and celery.  The eggplants are heavily laden with fruit.  We pick them only when it’s time to cook (or gift eggplants); their texture and flavor are dramatically better than any supermarket eggplant available in Alaska.

While in the village, we take over weeding and watering the garden.  This year, purslane and crab grass were the most dominant weeds. While crab grass is purely an annoyance, purslane makes a tasty edible green.

Purslane has been used in Greece throughout recorded history.  Hippocrates, Galenus, and Dioscurides documented its many medicinal uses.  In the kitchen, it’s used raw in salads, mixed with yogurt, added to soups, served with meat or fish, and pickled for winter salad.

In Greece, purslane is best harvested by June or July, at which time both stem and leaves can be used. In September, stems are too tough to eat, but leaves still taste great.

This year, our first day back on the island, we drove to the main town to shop for basics. The day was a scorcher; we returned home hot and tired.  I wasn’t in the mood to cook and, after a day spent under the relentless Greek sun (at least to an Alaskan), didn’t want to eat more than a salad.

While I cut vegetables, Steve collected a colander full of purslane from the garden. Its succulent, slightly sour leaves, combined with sweet tomatoes and tart lemon juice, made a refreshing salad, perfect for a hot day.

Purslane-Tomato Salad (Ντομάτα Σαλάτα με Γλιστρίδα)

Serves 2 – 4

If you don’t have fresh purslane, see the recipe below for Beach Lovage Salad and follow the recommended substitutions there for a fresh, cooling summer salad.

Dressing:

1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil

2 Tbsp. fresh lemon juice

Salt

Freshly ground black pepper

Salad:

1 1/2 cups diced tomatoes, 1/2” dice

1 1/2 cups cleaned purslane leaves

3/4 cup diced cucumbers, 1/2” dice

3/4 cup diced red onions, 1/2” dice

1/4 cup minced fresh parsley

1 Tbsp. minced fresh mint

Make the dressing: Whisk the olive oil into the lemon juice. Season with salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste.

Make the salad: Toss all the ingredients together. Drizzle with the dressing and toss again. (You may not need all the dressing.) Taste and add salt or freshly ground black pepper, as needed.

Beach Lovage and Chocolate Lilies

Part Two: Beach Lovage-Tomato Salad in Alaska

Nearing the spring equinox, by June’s second week Anchorage was enjoying almost 20 hours of daylight. Winter doldrums were a distant memory; the whole town was in a good mood.

Sunday we woke early. Sun streamed in the window, warming our faces. The sky was clear bright blue. Staying in bed wasn’t possible. We headed out to find a beach where we could harvest wild plants.

After making the circuit of possible foraging sites, we finally came across a field of beach lovage (Ligusticum scoticum).  Also known as Scotch lovage, sea lovage, wild celery, and petrushki, beach lovage grows on sandy beaches along the coasts of Alaska, Canada, and the Northeastern United States.

Beach lovage is easy to identify with its three-lobed leaflets and smooth, reddish-purple stem.  It’s best harvested before flowering.

One caution: Beach lovage is in the Umbelliferae family and its flowers are similar to those of relatives like carrots, parsley, and dill. However, water hemlock, a poisonous plant is also in the Umbelliferae family, and has similar flowers but very different leaves. As with all wild foraging, be certain you know what you’re gathering and be sure to follow the forager’s primary rule: “when in doubt, throw it out.”

The flavor of fresh beach lovage is unique and wonderful. The closest approximation would be to mix celery, parsley, and a little lemon zest, but there is still a missing flavor, the hint of wild bitterness that makes beach lovage special.

Although the flavors of purslane and beach lovage are not at all the same, both have a tart freshness that can't be purchased in a supermarket. As I tossed about ideas for using the beach lovage, I kept thinking about the Purslane-Tomato Salad we'd had last summer. With that in mind, I started mixing and tasting, adding cucumbers, then more mint, then more lemon juice, a little of each at a time, until the balance of flavors was correct for beach lovage - and for our palates.

In the last two weeks, I’ve used beach lovage in a risotto that was devoured by guests, a lovely topping for pan-fried halibut, and delicious halibut cakes.  The best way I served beach lovage was in the modified version of my Greek Purslane-Tomato Salad.

Beach Lovage-Tomato Salad/Salsa (Ντομάτα Σαλάτα με «Άγριο Σέλινο»)

Serves 4 as a salad, or 8 as salsa for serving with fish

If you don’t have beach lovage, substitute 1/4 cup minced parsley, 1/4 cup minced celery leaves, and 1/2 tsp. finely grated lemon zest (or 3 Tbsp. minced parsley, 1 Tbsp. minced lovage, and 1/2 tsp. finely grated lemon zest).

Dressing:

1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil

3 Tbsp. fresh lemon juice

Salt

Freshly ground black pepper

Salad:

1 1/2 cups diced tomatoes, 1/2” dice

1 1/2 cups diced cucumbers, 1/2” dice

3/4 cup diced red onions, 1/2” dice

1/2 cup minced fresh beach lovage leaves

3 Tbsp. minced fresh mint

Make the dressing: Whisk the olive oil into the lemon juice. Season with salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste.

Make the salad: Toss all the ingredients together. Drizzle with the dressing and toss again. (You may not need all the dressing.) Taste and add salt or freshly ground black pepper, as needed. 

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This post is included in Weekend Herb Blogging compiled by Chris from Mele Cotte.

Recipe: Spinach Saganaki (Σπανάκι Σαγανάκι)

Fresh garden greens started trickling into Anchorage farmers’ markets this morning. In two weeks, the trickle will turn into a flood. Greens of all kinds thrive in our cool maritime climate.

Though cultivated greens are only now appearing, we’ve been eating wild greens for the past month. As soon as the snow melted, dandelion greens insistently pushed their way through the saturated earth and were ready to be harvested.  Fireweed shoots, devil’s club, and nettles; chickweed, dock, lamb’s quarters, and shepherd’s purse; all end up in the pot. (For tips on harvesting wild plants, go here.)

Until my husband and I first lived in Greece (1987), eating wild plants never once crossed my mind. I grew up in a family where picky eating was an art form. My father didn’t eat cheese, yogurt, or sour cream. My mother didn’t eat lamb, broccoli, cauliflower, cucumbers, squash, green pepper, and so many other foods I could never keep track.  If my parents didn’t eat it, neither did we.  Plus I had my own food quirks; raw tomatoes didn’t pass my lips until I was 24.

So wild greens? Not likely. It wasn’t just my family; the concept of eating wild greens didn’t remotely exist in the small Pacific Northwest town in which we were raised.  In our world, food came from the grocery store. Food could also come from the garden, but only from seeds that were planted and carefully tended. For wild food, we only knew berries, seafood, and dead animals. 

When  the first rains came the autumn of our arrival in Greece, there was a palpable sense of excitement in the village.  Once the rain stopped, half the village took to the fields, quickly gathering the emerging flush of snails. Over the next week, the dirt roads surrounding the village became peppered with the bent-over backsides of black-clad women, systematically working their way through the fields, gathering an abundance of fresh wild greens.

Though my Greek was limited in those days, I learned by example which greens were tastiest, how to harvest them, and how to clean them. I learned a mixture of different greens cooked together tastes better than a single variety cooked on its own.  I learned to love and crave greens of all kinds, wild and domesticated.  Most importantly, foraging became a permanent, enriching part of our lives.

These days, we eat greens several times a week, and I regularly post recipes using them.

For the past year, my favorite greens recipe has been Spinach Saganaki, based on a dish we had at Tzitzikas and Mermigas (Τζίτζικας και Μέρμηγκας), a restaurant on Mitropoleos Street, just off Syntagma Square, in downtown Athens. (A tasty place to eat on a shady street, particularly if you’re carrying a heavy load of way too many cookbooks; but that’s another story.) I’ve made the dish with a wide range of different greens, alone and combined, including spinach, Swiss chard, kale, amaranth, nettles, and dandelions; every version has been a success.

Two notes about the name:

1) I like calling it Spinach Saganaki only because it translates in Greek to the perfectly alliterative “Spanaki Saganaki.” Ignore the name and don’t limit yourself to making it with spinach; the dish is delicious with all kinds of greens. 

2) I recently described this dish to someone who asked why it had “saganaki” in the name since it didn’t include flaming cheese.  In Greek, “saganaki” is a small two-handled frying-pan, and gives its name to a range of dishes that are traditionally served in the pan, including shrimp saganaki, mussels saganaki, and cheese saganaki. As for setting cheese saganaki on fire, I’ve seen it done in Greece rarely, though it’s common in the US. I can’t explain the difference.

Spinach Saganaki (Σπανάκι Σαγανάκι)

Serves 4 as vegetable or 8 as part of appetizer spread (mezedes/μεζέδες)

Inspired by Βλητοκορφές Σαγανάκι at Tzitzikas and Mermigas/Τζίτζικας και Μέρμηγκας in Athens, Greece

Any wild or domesticated greens, alone or in combination, may be used for Saganaki. Because they cook fastest, it's easiest with greens like spinach, Swiss chard, domesticated dandelions, nettles, vlita (amaranth greens), or poppies. The recipe may be assembled hours in advance and refrigerated; bring to room temperature before baking.)

1/4 cup chopped fresh dill

1/4 cup chopped Italian parsley

3/4 cup chopped green onions, both white and green parts

3/4 cup diced fresh tomatoes, 3/4” dice

1/2 - 3/4 cup roughly crumbled feta cheese

3 -4 Tbsp. olive oil

Salt

Freshly ground black pepper

1/2 pound spinach, or any roughly chopped, cleaned greens (6 packed cups raw, 1 1/2 cups cooked)

Preheat the oven to 400°F.

Mix together all the ingredients except the spinach.

Bring a large pot of salted water to the boil. Add the spinach and cook just until it wilts (NOTE: The length of cooking time depends on the greens used. Spinach is done after 10 seconds; tougher greens will take longer.) Drain the spinach, quickly squeeze out any excess liquid, and mix it with the other ingredients. (The recipe may be made ahead to this point.)

Put the greens mixture in a 9” glass pie pan or other shallow baking dish.  Bake for 10 minutes.  Serve immediately with crusty bread and olives.

Variation: Substitute Peppadew peppers, or roasted red peppers, for the tomatoes. I’ve done this when I’ve been out of tomatoes and it changes the dish entirely, but in a very delicious way.  With tomatoes, the flavor of the dish is lighter and fresher; with peppers the flavor is deeper and heartier.

Variation: Substitute wild sea lovage or purslane for the parsley. (I’ll write about wild sea lovage and purslane tomorrow or the next day.)

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This post is included in Weekend Herb Blogging hosted by Rachel from The Crispy Cook.

Recipe: Braised Green Beans (Fasolakia) with Lemon (Φασολάκια Λαδερά με Λεμόνι)

“If there are three Greeks in a room, you’re bound to hear five different opinions about the correct way to cook just about anything.”

Or so goes the self-deprecating joke at Holy Transfiguration Greek Orthodox Church in Anchorage, Alaska. Although it may not be literally true, the joke helps lighten the mood at festival time.

For the annual Greek festival held in August, parishioners join together to make classics of the Greek table. The correct ways to make Moussaka, Fasolakia (braised green beans), and Dolmades (stuffed grape leaves) trigger the most vigorous debates. Everyone knows the “correct” recipe, but none of them are the same.

At Mama’s Taverna, Lulu captured the essence of these debates as she described how Zoe came up with her wonderful Fasolakia recipe.

The truth is, Greek braised green beans taste great no matter the recipe. As I commented to Lulu, “I’ve sautéed, I’ve not sautéed, I’ve layered, I’ve stirred, I’ve added potatoes, I’ve added zucchini, I’ve cooked the beans plain, I’ve cooked them with meat, I’ve cooked them without and, shockingly, I’ve even made them sans tomatoes. In all their incarnations, I’ve NEVER had a pot of Fasolakia that tastes anything other than absolutely wonderful.”

I no sooner sent the comment than I started obsessing about Fasolakia made without tomatoes (the most common recipe includes them). I used to make tomato-less Fasolakia all the time. In recent years I’ve been stuck on versions with tomato, one of which I wrote about in February: Greek Beef and Green Bean Stew and two of which are included in Tastes Like Home: Mediterranean Cooking in Alaska (Fasolakia and Fasolakia with Zucchini and Potatoes).

Last night I made the tomato-less version. It was everything I’d been wanting. The braised beans and onions were soft and sweet, rich with oil and herbs, and tangy from the fresh lemon juice finish. This is a dish where bread is a necessary accompaniment; it’s a shame to let the remarkably good juices go to waste.

Fasolakia belongs to a class of Greek dishes called Ladera, which means “oily” (ladi/λάδι is the Greek word for oil). The oil and vegetable juices cook together to make a wonderfully unctuous sauce. However, for many today, traditional Ladera has too much oil. Adjust the amount of oil in the recipe to suit your taste; for the traditional version, use the larger amount.

When considering the amount of oil to use, keep in mind that olive oil is a heart-healthy fat. According to the Mayo Clinic, “Olive oil contains monounsaturated fat, which can lower your risk of heart disease by reducing the total and low-density lipoprotein (LDL, or "bad") cholesterol levels in your blood.”

The FDA says there is "limited but not conclusive evidence" that 2 tablespoons of olive oil daily can reduce the risk of heart disease. (Olive oil should be substituted for fats already in the diet, and not just added to what you’re already eating.)

This recipe’s dedicated to Lulu and Zoe.

Braised Green Beans (Fasolakia) with Lemon (Φασολάκια Λαδερά με Λεμόνι)
Serves 4 - 6 as a main course
In this easy recipe, the herbs and vegetables are layered in a Dutch oven and cooked without stirring until the beans are soft and tender. The beans shouldn’t be crunchy, and must be cooked through. Adjust the amount of olive oil as desired. Serve with slices of feta cheese, Kalamata olives, bread, and lemon wedges.

1 1/2 pounds green beans (6 cups cleaned)
4 cups thinly sliced onions
1 1/2 cups minced parsley
1/2 cup minced dill
1/2 cup minced mint
3 Tbsp. minced garlic
Salt
Freshly ground black pepper
1/2 – 1 cup olive oil
1/4 - 1/3 cup fresh lemon juice
Lemon wedges

Wash the beans, break off both ends, and break them in half. Mix the herbs and garlic together.

In a Dutch oven, layer 1 cup of onions on the bottom of the pan, top with 1/3 of the beans, then 1/3 of the herb mix, season with salt and freshly ground black pepper, and drizzle with 1/3 of the olive oil. Repeat. Repeat again but finish with the remaining cup of onions before drizzling with the last 1/3 of olive oil.

Cover and cook over medium high heat until the pan lid is hot. As soon as the lid is hot, turn the heat down to low and simmer for 1 hour, or until the beans are very soft and tender. Stir in 1/4 cup lemon juice. Taste and add lemon juice, salt, or freshly ground black pepper, as needed. Serve hot or at room temperature.
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This is my entry for Heart of the Matter’s May heart-healthy herb challenge hosted this month by Michelle at The Accidental Scientist.

Recipe: Carrots with Capers (Kαρότα με Kάπαρης)

When I want an easy, reliable, colorful vegetable side, I make Carrots with Capers adapted from Marcella Hazan's More Classic Italian Cooking. It goes particularly well with roast meat or chicken.

I’ve made it for 2 and I’ve made it for 100. Over the last 30 years, I’ve made this dish hundreds of times. It’s never been anything other than wonderful.

Marcella explains why: “The tart corrective of the capers is just what the carrots need to add a little zip to their otherwise passive sweetness. And their gentleness, in turn, tempers the tonic bite of the capers.”

I've changed Marcella's original recipe by upping the parsley, garlic, and capers. Because the garlic is cooked in water, its flavor in the finished dish is quite mild.

Try it. You won’t be sorry.

Carrots with Capers (Kαρότα με Kάπαρης)
Serves 4
Adapted from More Classic Italian Cooking by Marcella Hazan (Alfred A. Knopf 1978)
Adding the water a little at a time keeps the carrots from getting waterlogged; it's the same principle as adding broth to risotto in stages. The carrots may be cooked ahead, reheated, and the capers added at the last minute, but the carrots taste better if cooked right before serving. Since capers are salted, be careful not to oversalt at the beginning.

1 pound carrots
1/4 cup capers, preferably salt-cured
1/4 cup olive oil
Salt
Freshly ground black pepper
1 Tbsp. minced garlic
1/4 cup minced parsley
1 – 1 1/2 cups water

Wash the carrots, peel them, and cut off the tops and bottoms. Cut into lengths the size and width of a woman’s little finger.

If using salt-preserved capers, rinse off the salt and let them soak in cold water for 10 – 15 minutes, and rinse them again. If using brined capers, rinse off the brine. Dry the capers and reserve.

Sauté the carrots, lightly seasoned with salt and freshly ground black pepper, in olive oil for 2 minutes. Stir in the garlic and parsley and cook for 1 minute. Stir in 1/4 cup water and cook until the water completely evaporates. Continue adding 1/4 cups of water and evaporating it until the carrots are done. This takes 10 – 20 minutes; cook until the carrots are tender but firm.

When the carrots are done, brown them lightly in the oil remaining in the pan after the water is gone. Stir in the capers and cook for 1 minute. Taste and add salt or freshly ground black pepper, as needed. Serve immediately.
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This is my entry for Antioxidant Rich Foods/Five-a-Day Tuesdays hosted by Sweetnicks.

Recipe: Pastitsio with Greens (Παστίτσιο με Χόρτα)

The snow is gone, the grass is greening, and the dandelions’ first tiny leaves are poking through the earth. I’ve been walking the yard daily, impatient for enough wild greens to make a salad.

In the meantime, I’m making do with spinach and Swiss chard from my Full Circle Farm CSA box.

Teeny had another Mediterranean potluck last night and several guests made dishes from Tastes Like Home: Mediterranean Cooking in Alaska. From the book, Teeny made Halibut with Onions, Pine Nuts, and Tahini Sauce and Lemon-Marinated Dungeness Crab, Tissy made Oregano Chicken and Potatoes, Moira made Tabbouleh, and I made Hummus and Roasted Kalamata Olives.

Everything was delicious. It’s heartening, and a little magical, to see people using the recipes in Tastes Like Home and succeeding in making delicious food.

In addition to cooking from Tastes Like Home, I brought Pastitsio with Greens to Teeny's potluck. Like Pastitsio with Meat Sauce, a traditional Greek dish sometimes called “Greek lasagna,” Pastitsio with Greens is full of complex flavors.

Because it includes three cheeses (feta, kasseri, and manouri or ricotta), Pastitsio with Greens is rich and creamy. The luxuriant pasta and cheese is balanced by abundant greens and flavored with fresh mint, dill, and parsley. My husband describes it as macaroni and cheese that tastes better and isn’t as heavy as regular mac and cheese.

For potlucks or entertaining, one of the best things about Pastitsio with Greens is it can be assembled ahead of time and baked at the last minute. Its creamy goodness is a hit with adults, children, and everybody in between.

Pastitsio with Greens (Παστίτσιο με Χόρτα)
Serves 6 as a main course or 12 as a side dish
Any wild or domesticated greens may be used for Pastitsio with Greens. For better flavor, I prefer using at least two types of greens. I also prefer Pastitsio when most of the greens are sweeter varieties, like spinach, Swiss chard, nettles, vlita (amaranth greens), or poppies, with bitter or stronger flavored greens used only as an accent. In Greece, use fresh manouri, myzithra, or anthotyro instead of ricotta. The Pastitsio can be assembled up to 24 hours ahead and baked just before serving. Because made-ahead Pastitsio has been refrigerated, it takes at least 10 minutes longer to bake.

1/2 pound miniature penne or other hollow pasta

Filling:
1 bunch spinach or other wild or domesticated greens
1 bunch Swiss chard or other wild or domesticated greens
2 cups diced yellow onions, 1/4” dice
2 Tbsp. olive oil
Salt
Freshly ground black pepper
1 Tbsp. minced garlic
1 cup thinly sliced green onions
1/2 cup minced fresh parsley
1/4 cup minced fresh dill
1/4 cup minced fresh mint
1 1/2 cups crumbled feta
1 1/2 cups kasseri or fontina cheese
3/4 cup fresh manouri or ricotta cheese

Béchamel:
1/4 cup butter
1/4 cup flour
2 1/2 cups whole milk
1/4 tsp. nutmeg
Salt
Freshly ground black pepper
2 egg yolks

Topping:
1/3 cup freshly grated parmesan cheese
1/3 cup Panko breadcrumbs

Cook the Pasta: Bring a large pot of salted water to the boil. Add the pasta and cook until it is almost, but not quite, done. Remove the pasta with a slotted spoon to a bowl; reserve the pasta water for blanching the greens. Rinse the pasta with cold water, drain, and reserve.

Make the Filling: Wash the greens very carefully. Discard any tough or damaged stems, leaves, roots, and any flower buds. Bring the pasta water to a boil, and blanch the greens for 1 minute. Drain and immediately rinse the greens with cold water. Using your hands, squeeze as much water as possible from the greens. Chop the greens and put them in bowl.

Sauté the yellow onions, lightly seasoned with salt and freshly ground black pepper, in olive oil until the onions soften and start to turn golden. Stir in the garlic and cook for 1 minute. Add the onions to the bowl with the greens. Add the green onions, parsley, dill, mint, and cheeses to the bowl and toss well to combine thoroughly. Taste and add salt or freshly ground black pepper as needed.

Make the Béchamel: Warm the milk over low heat or in the microwave; don’t bring the milk to a boil. Melt the butter in a large saucepan, mix in the flour to make a smooth paste, and cook for two minutes, stirring constantly. Slowly whisk in the warm milk and cook, stirring, until the sauce is smooth and the thickness of heavy cream. Add the nutmeg, salt, and freshly ground black pepper to taste. Pour 1/2 cup of hot milk sauce into the pasta, and stir to evenly distribute. Put the egg yolks in a small bowl and quickly whisk in 1/2 cup of hot milk sauce. Whisk the egg mixture back into the sauce. Cook over very low heat for two minutes, stirring constantly, and being careful not to let the sauce get hotter than a low simmer. Taste and correct the seasoning.

Make the topping: Mix the parmesan and Panko.

Assemble the Pastitsio: Preheat the oven to 350°F.

For use as a main course: Place half the pasta in the bottom of a well-oiled 9”x9” baking pan. Spread half the filling over the pasta. Top with the remaining pasta, and then with the remaining filling. Spread the béchamel over the filling. Sprinkle the topping over the béchamel. Bake for 35 – 40 minutes, or until the top of the Pastitsio is golden and the juices are bubbling. Let cool for at least 15 minutes before cutting into rectangles and serving. If you cut Pastitsio immediately after removing it from the oven, it will fall apart (but still tastes great).

For use as a side dish: Stir the pasta into the filling. Place the mixture in the bottom of a well-oiled 9”x13” baking pan. Top with the béchamel and then with the topping. Bake for 35 – 40 minutes, or until the top of the Pastitsio is golden and the juices are bubbling. Serve immediately by the spoonful or after 15 minutes if you prefer cutting it into squares.
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This is my entry for Weekend Herb Blogging, hosted this week by Anh of Food Lover's Journey. This week, May 5 to May 11, I'm hosting Weekend Herb Blogging. Please send me your entries to tasteslikehome[at]hotmail[dot]com by May 11!

Greek Cookbooks: Tastes of the Sea with Recipe for Halibut and Red Pepper Souvlaki (Kebabs) with Green Herb Sauce (Σουβλάκι Ψαριού με Πράσινη Σάλτσα)

Καλό Πάσχα! Happy Easter! Χριστός Ανέστη! Christ is Risen! Αληθώς Ανέστη! Truly He is Risen!

We’re just back from Antonia’s house where we ate too much Easter dinner. Antonia goes all out every year with an amazing Easter spread: lamb, moussaka, pastitsio, spanakopita, tsoureki, koulourakia, and salads of every kind. On Easter, no one leaves Antonia’s house - or any Greek’s house - hungry. The amount of food is similar to what one sees at an American Thanksgiving dinner.

I’m never eating again. At least not until tomorrow.

Last week we had our first fresh halibut of the year and broke out the grill in its honor. Halibut is a flatfish with white meat. An average-sized halibut weighs about 25 pounds (a little over 10 kilos), although large halibut can weigh over 500 pounds (about 225 kilos). Frozen halibut is fine, but the texture and flavor of fresh halibut is far superior, so it's always a happy day when the new halibut season starts.

Because halibut is meaty, it makes wonderful kebabs, aka souvlaki. I usually make halibut souvlaki with onions and bay leaves, but last week I used a new recipe from an award-winning Greek cookbook called Γεύσεις της Θάλασσας (Tastes of the Sea).

For this Halibut Souvlaki, chunks of fish are alternated on a skewer with red pepper pieces and topped with an herby, garlicky green sauce. The full-flavored sauce nicely complements the smoky red peppers and mild fish. The original recipe used two kinds of fish on the skewers; next time I make this, I’ll use both salmon and halibut.

Halibut and Red Pepper Souvlaki (Kebabs) with Green Herb Sauce (Σουβλάκι Ψαριού με Πράσινη Σάλτσα)
Serves 4
Adapted from Γεύσεις της Θάλασσας by Βασίλης Φραντζολάς (Tastes of the Sea by Vasilis Frantzolas) (Πατάκη 2004)
This quick and easy recipe packs a lot of flavor. It’s perfect for a mid-week meal, and is tasty and pretty enough to serve to company. Any fish that can be cut in large chunks may be substituted for the halibut.

Souvlaki:
1 1/2 pounds skinless halibut fillets (or 3/4 pound halibut and 3/4 pound salmon)
2 Tbsp. olive oil
2 Tbsp. lemon juice
Salt
Freshly ground black pepper
2 red bell peppers

Green Herb Sauce:
1 packed cup parsley leaves
1/4 packed cup basil leaves
1/4 packed cup mint leaves
1 Tbsp. whole grain mustard
8 anchovy filets
1/2 cup olive oil
Salt
Freshly ground black pepper

Cut the fish in 1 1/2” chunks. Mix it with the olive oil, lemon juice, salt, and freshly ground black pepper and let it marinate for 30 minutes while you prepare the remaining ingredients. Don’t leave the fish in the marinade for longer than 30 minutes or it will begin to “cook.”

Cut the red peppers in half lengthwise and remove the stems and seeds. Cut each half pepper into lengthwise thirds, and cut each third in half crosswise.

Put all the sauce ingredients in a blender and blend until smooth. Taste and add salt or freshly ground black pepper as needed.

Starting with red pepper, alternate the peppers and fish on skewers. Season lightly with salt and freshly ground black pepper. Grill over a hot fire, or on a white hot cast iron grill pan. Halibut cooks very quickly, and is dry when overcooked, so watch it carefully.

Serve the skewers drizzled liberally with herb sauce.
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This is my entry for Weekend Herb Blogging, hosted this week by Margot from Coffee and Vanilla.

Filo Tips and Recipe for Greek Leek Pie – Prasopita (Πρασόπιτα)

Friday night’s Prasopita (prah-SO-pee-tah, Greek leek pie) tasted great, but producing it was not pretty. I learned, yet again, to embrace kitchen disasters for their educational benefits.

It was one of those evenings where everything went wrong. From dodging falling knives to cleaning up egg-splattered floorboards, the frustrations accumulated. It was typical that I opened the filo and found the sheets of pastry inseparably stuck together. All but six were unusable and went straight into the garbage.

I quickly mixed up dough for an olive oil crust, and switched to making tri-cornered hand pies. Unfortunately, I didn’t make nearly enough pastry dough. It started running out while I still had a bowlful of filling. Too impatient to make more pastry, I rolled up the remaining dough and made an open-face, free-form tart.

When I was done, I had three filo-wrapped traditional Prasopites, six tri-cornered leek hand pies, and one free-form leek tart. Although I hadn’t planned it, this gave us the opportunity to directly compare filo-wrapped pies with those having a simple olive oil crust. The comparison was enlightening.

As between the filo and hand pies, it wasn’t a close call; the filo pies were far superior. Crisp filo pastry was the perfect counterpoint to the savory leek filling. Although the hand pie crust was flaky, the filling to crust ratio was too low and the crust’s flavor too dominant.

The open-face tart was another story. In this version, the single layer of olive oil crust nicely balanced the flavorful leek filling. Even better, the crust held its integrity and remained crispy even after it had been in the refrigerator for two days. This is not true of filo-wrapped pies; they rapidly lose their crispness after even a short time in the refrigerator.

So what will I do in the future? For a party, or any situation where pites are likely to be eaten quickly, I’ll stick with traditional filo. Nothing beats buttery-rich filo wrapped around leek and herb filling. I’ll also use filo when I’m not planning to bake all the pies at one time – unbaked filo-wrapped pies freeze well and can be popped in the oven direct from the freezer.

On days when I want Greek pie, but am in a hurry and don’t want to mess with filo, or when I want to limit the amount of fat I ingest, I’ll make an open-face tart. It’s an easy, extremely flavorful, savory treat. I’d happily serve it for any occasion, special or not.

Filo Tips – Working with Filo is Easy
First, pronunciation; in English, there are multiple ways to spell filo (fillo, fyllo, phyllo) because Greek to English isn’t transliterated consistently. But no matter the spelling, the pastry is pronounced FEE-low.

As with the ruined mess I faced on Friday, stuck together filo sheets are the bane of a cook’s existence. It is generally caused by improperly storing filo, by thawing and refreezing filo, or by leaving filo for too long at room temperature. To avoid this problem, buy from stores that sell a lot of filo. When you are ready to use it, thaw filo overnight in the refrigerator, bring it to room temperature before you start to work with it, and use the thawed filo within a week.

Finish making the filling, including cooling it, before you open the package of filo.

Filo is a lot more forgiving than it might seem. A few rips and tears don’t make any difference at all, and usually disappear in the many layers of filo or when a pie is shaped or rolled.

Dried out filo breaks apart and makes working with it difficult to impossible. Once filo is removed from the package, you either must work very quickly or must cover the filo sheets with a slightly damp cloth. The first few times you work with filo, the damp cloth is a must. As you gain confidence, you’ll be able to work quickly enough that the damp cloth is unnecessary.

If you want to make your own filo, Peter Minakis explains how here.

If you want to see how filo is traditionally made in Greece, Maria Verivaki has a video and explanation here.

Recipe for Greek Leek Pie – Prasopita (Πρασόπιτα)
Makes 10 large or 20 small filo-wrapped pastries or 1 10” free-form tart
For vegans or those who are fasting, leave out the feta and eggs, and brush the filo sheets only with olive oil. Freeze extra Prasopites and bake frozen, adding 5 – 10 minutes to the baking time.

Leek Filling:
3 cups diced leeks, white and light green parts only, 1/2” dice (3 medium leeks)
1 1/2 cups diced yellow onions, 1/2” dice
3 Tbsp. olive oil
Salt
Freshly ground black pepper
1 1/2 cups sliced green onions (1 bunch)
1 Tbsp. minced garlic
1/2 cup minced fresh dill
1/2 cup minced fresh parsley
1 cup crumbled feta
2 eggs

Filo:
1 pound box of filo (18” x 14”)
1/2 cup (1 stick) butter
1/4 cup olive oil

Make the Filling: Sauté the leeks and onions, lightly seasoned with salt and freshly ground black pepper, in olive oil until the onions soften and start to turn golden. Put in a bowl and mix with all the remaining filling ingredients, except the eggs. Taste and add salt or freshly ground black pepper, as needed. Stir in the eggs.

Preheat the oven to 400°F.

Clarify the butter (see NOTE below for why and how to clarify butter). Mix the clarified butter and olive oil, and brush a rimmed baking sheet with the mixture.

Alternative 1 - Shaping Large Prasopita: Remove the filo from the box, unroll it, and cover any you are not actively using with plastic wrap or a slightly damp cloth. Lay one 18” x 14” sheet of filo out on the counter and brush it lightly with butter-oil. Cover with another sheet of filo and brush it lightly with butter-oil. Spread 1/2 cup of filling along one of filo’s short edges. Fold in the sides and roll up the filo. Place roll on the prepared baking sheet seam side down and brush lightly with butter-oil. Repeat until all the pastries are rolled.

Alternative 2 – Shaping Small Prasopita: Follow the directions for shaping large Prasopita, but use 9” x 14” filo sheets or cut 18” x 14” filo sheets in half and use 1/4 cup filling.

Alternative 3 – Make Open-Face, Free-Form Tart: In a food processor mix 2 cups flour, 6 Tbsp. olive oil, and 1/2 tsp. salt. Mix in as much water as necessary (4 – 6 Tbsp.) to make dough that sticks together. Form into a ball and let rest at room temperature for 30 minutes. Roll out the dough into a 12” circle, place on a baking sheet, and spread the filling out on the dough, leaving a border of 1 1/2”. Sprinkle a little freshly grated parmesan cheese over the filling. Fold up the edges, sealing with water as necessary for folds in the dough to stick together.

Place the Prasopites (or tart) in the oven and bake for 30 – 40 minutes, or until the filo is brown and crispy (or the tart pastry is set and lightly browned).

Serve immediately.

NOTE: Clarified butter is butter with the milk solids removed. To clarify butter, melt it in a saucepan or microwave and skim off and discard the white foam that rises to the top. Pour the clear yellow butter into a bowl, being careful to keep the milky liquid that sinks to the bottom of the pan out of the clarified butter. Discard the milky liquid. If you don’t clarify butter used for separating layers of filo, the pastry won’t cook correctly, and will be soggy rather than crisp.

UPDATE: Maria Verivaki recently made this Prasopita, and shaped it into one large sprial pie (called Strifti - Στριφτή - in Greek). Here's Maria's post about Prasopita Strifti.
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More Leek Recipes:
Beet, Fennel, and Leek Salad with Lemon-Ginger Dressing (Παντζάρια, Μάραθο και Πράσο Σαλάτα με Πιπερόριζα Σάλτσα) (I make a winter salad and spice it up with ginger salad dressing)
Leek Pilaf (Πρασόρυζο) (I make Greek leeks with rice.)
Leek Soufflé
Leek and Tomato Crumble
The Easiest Grilled Leeks Ever

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This is my entry for Weekend Herb Blogging, hosted this week by its creator Kalyn of Kalyn’s Kitchen.

Recipe: Parsnip Gnocchi with Pearl Onions, Peas, and Mushrooms

Last week I was rambling around the internet and came across a picture of “Parsnip Gnocchi and Chanterelles.” The photographer (Kevin) had enjoyed the dish, which also included peas and pearl onions, at Summit Restaurant in Colorado Springs. The concept captured my imagination.

Too bad there wasn’t a recipe. Even so, it looked possible to recreate using the picture as a guide.

Luckily, I had all the ingredients on hand. Parsnips and mushrooms came in my latest Full Circle Farm CSA box. The pantry held a bag of pearl onions; I’d bought too many for Mushroom Stifado. A bag of peas from last summer’s garden was languishing in the freezer.

I immediately got to work making parsnip gnocchi. When the dish was done, it tasted as good as Kevin's picture looked. I’m already planning to make it again.

Roasted Parsnip Gnocchi with Pearl Onions, Peas, and Mushrooms
Serves 4 - 6
The gnocchi are surprisingly simple to make because, unlike some gnocchi recipes, this dough is easy to handle. Putting ridges in the gnocchi isn't necessary (and they're faster to make if you don’t). The ridges help gnocchi pick up flavors from the other ingredients, so I generally do it. No doubt the finished dish would taste better with wild mushrooms, but it tasted wonderful with the cremini I used. Pearl onions and mushrooms need to be sautéed in batches to ensure they brown properly; if you try to brown too many vegetables in a pot at one time, they’ll steam rather than brown. Because the vegetables are cooked and salted separately, be careful about how much salt you add to any individual vegetable or the finished dish may be too salty.

Parsnip Gnocchi:
2 pounds whole parsnips
2 Tbsp. olive oil
1 cup finely grated parmesan cheese
3/4 - 1 cup flour, plus extra for flouring surfaces

Vegetables:
2 cups pearl onions (1 pound) or 14 ounces frozen pearl onions, thawed
4 – 6 Tbsp. butter
2 cups sliced or quartered mushrooms
2 cups blanched and halved crosswise sugar snap peas
1/2 cup thinly sliced fresh basil or chopped fresh Italian parsley
2 tsp. minced garlic

Make the Gnocchi: Preheat the oven to 400°F. Wash and dry the parsnips. Rub them with olive oil and wrap them in aluminum foil. Roast for 30 – 40 minutes, or until they are easily pierced with a skewer or knife; the exact length of time depends on the parsnips’ size. Let cool, then skin the parsnips.

Purée the parsnips in a food processor. Mix in the parmesan and 3/4 cup flour. Dump the dough on a floured surface. Knead lightly, adding flour as necessary to prevent the dough from being sticky.

Divide the dough into 2” balls. Using your fingertips, roll out each ball on a floured surface into a long, 3/4” diameter, rope. Cut the rope into 3/4” pieces. To make ridged gnocchi, roll each piece of dough off the back of a fork, pressing lightly down as you roll. Put the finished gnocchi on a floured surface, in a single layer, while you cook the vegetables.

Cook the Vegetables: If starting with dried pearl onions, peel them and cut an X in the root end to help hold the onion layers together. An easy way to peel the onions is to drop them in boiling water for a minute and then slip off the peels.

Melt 2 Tbsp. butter over medium heat in a pan large enough to hold all the ingredients. Sauté half the pearl onions, lightly seasoned with salt and freshly ground black pepper, in the butter until the onions are well browned on all sides and cooked through. Be careful not to burn the butter; turn down the heat if necessary to prevent burning. Remove the browned onions from the pan with a slotted spoon and set aside. Repeat with the remaining pearl onions, adding butter as necessary.

In the same pan, sauté half the mushrooms, lightly seasoned with salt and freshly ground black pepper and adding butter as necessary, until they are well-browned on both sides. Remove the browned mushrooms from the pan with a slotted spoon, add to the onions, and set aside. Repeat with the remaining mushrooms, adding butter as necessary.

In the same pan, sauté the peas, lightly seasoned with salt and freshly ground black pepper, until they are almost, but not quite, done. Remove the peas from the pan with a slotted spoon and add to the other vegetables.

Finish the Gnocchi and Vegetables: Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Gently add half the gnocchi to the water and cook until the gnocchi float to the surface. When the gnocchi float, use a slotted spoon to remove them from the water and put them in the pan in which the vegetables cooked. Repeat with the remaining gnocchi.

Over medium heat, gently toss the gnocchi to lightly coat them with butter. Add the vegetables, basil, and garlic, and toss gently to combine. When all the vegetables are heated through, serve immediately.
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This is my entry for Grow Your Own, an event created and hosted by Andrea’s Recipes.

Recipe: Beet and Red Pepper Salad (Παντζάρια Σαλάτα με Κόκκινες Πιπεριές)

Beet and Red Pepper Salad tastes really good. It’s easy to make and looks beautiful on the plate. Try it with feta cheese and olives for a light lunch or savory appetizer.

Beet and Red Pepper Salad (Παντζάρια Σαλάτα με Κόκκινες Πιπεριές)
Serves 4

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