Monthly Archives: May 2009

In Search of a Blender

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My old Waring Pro blender saw its last day. The motor started to grind and squeal and it became increasingly more difficult to get any results from it. I was sort of excited when Julie suggested we upgrade because it is a rare treat when she was on board for new kitchen technology  (she loves her smoothies). The Waring was over 10 years old. It was time.

I’ve been influenced by the informercials and internet videos of  modern blenders. I always had a little envy. When I bought the Waring, it was touted as a professional grade product, best available. The new technologies looked like they could kick my little blender’s ass. I’m sure you’re all familiar with WILL IT BLEND?

 

Will It Blend?

Will It Blend?

 

Many of you know that when I buy something, I do the homework. In fact, I often do it for you too….For this one I went straight to Consumer Reports. Their top three were: (1) Vita-Mix 5000, Blendtec Total Blender (the will it blend model, and the Breville BBL600XL.  Respectively their pricing/rating were $400/85, $400/79 and $200/75.

After reading the reviews, it seemed that all of these were great performers for my purposes, so I set out to check street pricing. The consumer reports numbers were pretty accurate, until I hit Bloomingdales. You’ve got to hand to Bloomies (bring on the rants Howard Stern fans). They have a creative way of offering loyalists incredible discounts. They had the Breville on sale plus we had an additional 20%. All-in it was $150 plus tax. Great deal!

 

Breville BBL600XL

Breville BBL600XL

 

So far my experience has been outstanding. In smoothie mode it performs much like commercial blenders you see in smoothie shops. It whirs and snorts but never groans. The frozen stuff is mincemeat in seconds. The textures are indeed smooth, something the Waring struggled with from the start. I’ve done breadcrumbs and purees with great success as well.

The Breville is quiet and has easily removable curved blades for simple cleaning. The base is stable and the glass container is ample and sturdy. The 750 watt motor is more than powerful enough for anything you can throw at it. If you are looking for a new blender, I can confidently recommend the Breville BBL600XL.

Meatballs

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I can’t get a break! I’ve been traveling for three weeks and for the most part everyone has commented that they enjoyed keeping up with my posts. But today one of my cherished readers complained that there were not enough recipes on the site. Sheesh. Ok, well this one if for you. Let me warn you though, this is real food here. Not some make-your-own-granola-bar stuff. We’re talking balls. Yes, it’s time for meatballs.

Meatballs in Tomato Sauce

Meatballs in Tomato Sauce

As you may have guessed, I have an opinion about this. But first, let’s consult wikipedia for some clarification “In Italy, meatballs are known as polpette and are generally eaten as a main course or in a soup [not with pasta]. The main ingredients of an Italian meatball are: beef and or pork and sometimes turkey, salt, black pepper, garlic powder, olive oil, romano cheese, eggs, bread crumbs and parsley, mixed and rolled by hand to a golf ball size. In the Abruzzo Region of Italy, especially in the Province of Teramo the meatballs are typically the size of marbles and are called polpettine.” 

So, understand that what we call meatballs isn’t a very italian creating. Word has it that when Italians immigrated here they wanted to revel in the bounty of their American success and the modern meatball came to be. How it got tossed on top of pasta is a mystery, but there is something right about it. I’m a huge fan of Sicilian-influenced hole-in-the-wall Italian restaurants (Gaspare’s in the Richmond reigns supreme). Give me chicken parm, lasagna and yes, spaghetti and meatballs any day!

I’ve made a lot of meatballs in my life. I credit my mother for my passion. She makes damn good meatballs. She’s half Italian, so that makes me a quarter. And while I don’t think it was specifically every Sunday when we were rewarded with mom’s spaghetti and meatballs, it kinda felt like that (the jewish part of us probably did Chinese on Sundays more frequently). As with most of my recipes, it’s mostly about concepts, with infinite variations available. Creativity rewards intrepid cooks.

Let’s start with the meat. My favorite combination is 1/3 ground beef, 1/3 ground pork, 1/3 ground veal. I’ve done all-veal, 1/2 pork, 1/2 veal, all beef. Play around and see what works for you. Yesterday I grabbed a chuck roast of 100% grass-fed beef and ground it up myself (I love grinding meat – not only does it produce a better texture, but it just feels more in touch with the food source). Mix your meat together well and now you have your base.

EDITORS NOTE: Lately I’ve been playing around with some recipes that include grinding some cured meats into the mixture. This has an amazing effect on the final outcome. Grab some prosciutto or some salumi (coppa works great) and toss it into the grinder (consider just a couple of ounces). Similarly, a good hunk of lardo brings some awesome flavor and texture.

Optionally, you might consider some onions, shallots or leeks. It’s not essential, but depending on your objective, could add some amazing flavor. A good yellow onion will do fine. Get it soft in olive oil and let it cool down. Adding hot onions starts to cook the meat and gives you dense spots in the meatballs. Yesterday I melted some leeks and accidentally charred them a bit (jet lag complicates cooking) but the result was welcomed.

Raw Meatballs

Raw Meatballs

Dairy and bread are also optional, yet welcomed additions. Lately I’ve been adding a creamy ricotta. The result is a fluffier ball with a rich flavor. I also take a brioche or Italian batard and throw it in the food processor. I prefer fresh bread crumbs to dry or stale for meatballs. If you are not using ricotta, I’d soak the breadcrumbs in milk. I also add an ample handful of cheese at this point. Typically romano or parmigiano – experimentation is welcomed here. Add one egg per pound of meat.

Seasoning comes next. Dried herbs tend to work better than fresh, except in the case of parsley. I often will just add salt, pepper and some chili flakes. Oregano is cool. Thyme works. If you want to get tricky, try fried sage and porcini mushrooms [chopped finely] or fried basil and roasted peppers. I like to fry fresh herbs, it gives them better crumble and doesn’t kick you in the teeth with too much flavor. Add ample salt and pepper.

It is very important to mix your meatballs by hand. This is where the love is imparted. If you don’t get meat on your hands, you’re not making meatballs. Cook one and taste it. Adjust for seasoning and texture.

Cooking Meatballs

Cooking Meatballs

There are a few ways to cook meatballs. I like a little crust on the outside, but soft in the middle. To get this, you fry on a low flame in olive and then finish in a pot of sauce before they are fully cooked through. If you are not using tomato sauce, take some beef stock (good stuff, not the crap in the box) and poach the meatballs in a sheet tray in the oven. Don’t feel like you have to use tomato sauce. One of my favorite variations is to serve meatball in a puddle of some stock, pan drippings and a little olive oil with a dollop of ricotta cheese and a warm crusty loaf of bread. Or put them on a bed of baby arugula tossed in olive oil, salt and pepper. Yum.

So, there you are. Go out and become meatball masters my little ones. And like anything in life, practice makes perfect. While we’re on the subject, if you’re looking for a good meatball around San Francisco, I’d suggest trying A16, Delfina, Gaspares and Piccino! Or, try to swing an invite from the zealot!

Sustainability Overhaul: Step One

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As I mentioned in earlier posts, I was very effected by Michael Pollan’s books and would like to make changes to our current diet. Julie and I actually eat somewhat close to the prescribed ideal. But Judah is another story. We’ve been very lazy with our approach to child food and, as a result, have been feeding him far too many non-whole-food products.


 

Without getting too soap-boxy (I’ll leave you to read the books and get specifics for yourselves), the problem is that much of the food we (as in Americans) consume each day is not actually food. Our “food system” has become a a vehicle for the delivery of processed ingredients, mostly corn-based, via food-like products. If you read the labels on your foodstuffs and it has more than five ingredients, or you don’t recognize most of the ingredients (don’t be fooled by words that sound familiar – broccoli is broccoli, tomatoes are tomatoes) chances are you are eating the very stuff that has made our nation so unhealthy and overweight.

Equally, if not more, troubling is that when we choose our meat, we must remember that we aren’t just getting nutrition from the meat itself. Rather, we must consider that we eat what our meat eats. Again, corn is a major culprit. You can read Pollan’s history of how corn became the defacto diet of our livestock, which is only part of the disturbing story here. Feedlot conditions, disease and antibiotics all paint a very scary portrait of industrial meat production. But most importantly, the negative effects have made their way into our diet. Cows were meant to eat grass and the dietary effects of that are tantamount to creating a more sustainable and healthy diet for my family.

paycheck

What also surprised me, and is prompting my change, is that even if you are shopping at Whole Foods, you are not exempt from these problems. I’ve been a holier-than-thou Whole Foods junkie for years. Unfortunately, organic corn-based processed foods are very present in much of the offerings on their shelves and their meat, eggs and dairy are not necessarily all that pious. I thought that WF was watching my back but sadly it seems that they are not terribly distant from the same problems that plague the likes of traditional supermarkets. Being “organic” just isn’t enough.

So what does all of this mean for me and my family? As I said, I have to trust that you have read or will read the books to understand the breadth of reasons why we are making these decisions. And, I am not a person of extremes. Our lives are simply too busy to eat every meal from more-than-organic farms and pastured 100% grass-fed meats. This is the goal, but the reality needs to be more flexible.

With that, I’d like to chronicle my attempts by posting the specific trials and tribulations of a family attempting sustainability. Today we’ve made the first step. We used to receive a weekly delivery from Planet Organics, which we are now resuming. I am trying to vette them as much as possible, which is not an easy process. From what I can tell, they support local, sustainable farmers, including Marin Sun Farms Meats, which is 100% grass-fed. Still, I’d like to know more about the specific farms they support and the processes of those farms. The devil is in the details.

 

 

Additionally, I will still need to shop at Whole Foods or Rainbow Grocery, but with a much keener eye than before. Gone are the days of believe the low-fat hype. No longer will I grab boxes with health claims and food-like substances just because in-Whole-Foods-we-trust! I feel empowered and will not fall pray to the bullshit that has encumbered our society, unless I choose to (which those who know me, know that I have a soft-spot for junk food and am fully aware of my shortcomings!).

Lastly, the farmer’s markets of the Bay Area provide the best way to connect with my food sources and I plan to expand my horizons to include Alemany (yeah Nicole!) and Berkeley (yeah Cristina!). I’ve been a Ferry Building fan since inception, but my wallet suffers each week and I need additional resources.

It won’t be easy to break Judah of his chicken-dinosaur, fish-stick, hot dog, pizza, spaghetti and macaroni & cheese diet. But if we learned anything from Greece is that with patience and the right timing, he’ll open up to other foods. In the interest of his carbon and nitrogen composition, and avoiding the epidemics of type-2 diabetes, heart disease and cancer, we need to break out of the corn-based diet and bring real foods into his life. Our lives.

On My Way Home: Fresh Fish!

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Internet has been spotty at our last jaunt on the island of Milos. We’ve been driving through the construction zone that is burying the new high-speed line as we come and go to our villa in Pollonia. Food has been straightforward Greek here, nothing to write home about, yet consistently good. This is the first time we’ve really been able to indulge in fresh fish though, which is an interesting conundrum.

 

Fish Close Up

Fish Close Up

I’ve never been to an island culture before that made eating fish so prohibitive. The average fish is 40-100 euros per kilo, which quickly adds up. We’ve heard claims that the Mediterranean is over-fished. Some say that only the best line-caught fish are sold fresh in restaurants and the rest is frozen. Whatever the case, eating fish is more of a luxury than a staple to the Greek diet, which came as a surprise.

More importantly, for the first time in a number of years, I’m not looking forward to coming home right now. Since introducing a young child in the mix, traveling has presented new challenges. I’ve uniformly been ready to return to the comforts of home on our jaunts to Mexico, Spain and Ecuador. But now that Judah is four, he’s starting to participate in the experience of the traveling more and it’s a lot of fun. I can’t wait to show him more of this wonderful world!

 

Judah in Greece

Judah in Greece

Lastly, I am excited and nervous about how I am going to maintain the reinforced, and new, principles I am taking from Michael Pollan. After finishing Omnivore’s Dilemma I immediately devoured In Defense of Food (click to buy) and don’t think I can look at the supermarket in the same way. I was a Whole Foods devotee and my eyes are now wide open to the fact that the industrial food complex is not limited to the traditional food system. I cannot stress how important it is to read these books. Do yourself the favor…

I am hopeful that I can keep up with my posts at home. Running a more-than-full-time career requires a lot of time. But I love the energy generated by my food posts. Help me spread the word and give me suggestions for posts and I’ll be motivated to keep it up. I’ll see you back in the states in a few days. And I’ll be reviewing Flour & Water as soon I return.

The Pastoral Life: Folengandros

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The heaviness of Santorini was lifted as soon as we reached the port. Our ferry was bound for Ios, Sikinos, Folengandros and Milos. We were planning to head to Milos and thought a couple day’s stop in Folengandros would be a nice transition. We heard that it has majestic cliffs and a charming small-village culture. It would be a welcome change to the angst of Santorini.  

Judah Climbs to the Church, Folengandros, Greece

Judah Climbs to the Church, Folengandros, Greece

Folengandros has a population of about 650 during the summer and 350 the rest of the year. It is quite mountainous and the towering cliffs serve as a deterrent to most beach-seeking tourists. In fact, for many years the island was known as the Alcatraz of Greece, as exiles were sent here. Nowadays it seems to be home to a slow-moving group of Greeks who seek the simple life are unrepentant about it. And they’ve got a ton of Churches in which to repent.
Sheep Herding, Folengandros, Greece

Sheep Herding, Folengandros, Greece

We drove around the island yesterday and saw an abundance of grazing goat and sheep. Having just completed Omnivore’s Dilemma I’ve been wrestling with how we can find a balance in our lives by seeking a more sustainable food supply. Seeing these animals that will ultimately become my “Matsada”, a local dish I am excited to try this evening, I can’t help think that there was a time where it was easier to find that balance. And, in some places, it is still the only option. On this island of 350 full-time residents, these pastoral animals are their primary source of meat.

Meatballs and Fried Potatoes, Irene's, Folengandros, Greece

Meatballs and Fried Potatoes, Irene's, Folengandros, Greece

But, I’d like to get back to food.  The lunch we just ate brought my attention full-circle. Not necessarily for the quality of the food or the uniqueness of the preparations, but rather because of the simplicity and honesty of it. The setting was a courtyard outside a makeshift kitchen, which clearly occupied the ground floor of the owner’s home. Irene, in fact, was the owner, as the name of her restaurant attests. Her husband joins her in the kitchen, where they sincerely seem to take pride in feeding others.

J&J at Irene's, Folengandros, Greece

J&J at Irene's, Folengandros, Greece

We lunched on Greek Salad, meatballs and fried potatoes, zucchini cakes, and a toasted garlic bread. Everything was tasty, fresh and made with care. Any restaurant would be proud to offer such quality. Judah even left behind his phobias to try the meatballs and proclaimed them “yummy”. But what stole the show was the [free] cake that arrived at the end of the meal. It was a moist yellow cake with lemon and honey. Utter perfection. We all gobbled it up with abandon and applauded our hosts when they returned.

Lemon Honey Cake, Irene's, Folengandros, Greece

Lemon Honey Cake, Irene's, Folengandros, Greece

This meal marked a clear departure from the past four days and a return to some of the themes we started with in Greece. For one, we didn’t receive a single free treat in Santorini. Not that we expect it or require it, but it was certainly part of the charm of our first week in Greece. Moreover, it represents the local’s true desire to welcome their guests. And we do feel welcome. When I offered “bravo” (the Greeks have borrowed the word from the Italians) they were effusive with their thanks. For us, it is a great way to start the final week of our trip.

The Santorini Paradox

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This rant is a departure from food for a moment. If you haven’t noticed, what my blog is really about is my lifestyle. Food happens to be my greatest passion. Travel is a close second with reading and music not far behind. These things really all come together when I am living in balance. I consider myself a hedonist, which is best defined as “a school of philosophy which argues that pleasure has an ultimate importance and is the most important pursuit of humanity”. This is my ‘religion’.

 

Oia Blue Villa, Santorini, Greece

Oia Blue Villa, Santorini, Greece

 

Santorini has me in a frenzy. I want to love it. I want to cherish it as the most stellar geological freak, window-into-history, nature-kicks-everyone’s-ass, mind-fuck on the planet. It is all of that, and more. The deeper I dig into the history the more I am intrigued and the more I want to learn. The longer I stare out into the caldera, which is my current view as I write this from my balcony at the Oia Blue Villa (pictured above), the longer I want to drift in amazement at how insignificant we are compared to the power of this earth.

But then there’s the fucking tourists. I know, let’s just get it out of the way….I am a hypocrite and an elitist. What gives me the right to claim superiority over any other traveler? Who am I to judge someone else and feel that my experience is more valid or just than theirs? I have no right to judge others when I myself am a tourist. Herein lies the paradox. I get that. I own it. But I still feel it and I don’t apologize for it.

For the uninitiated, Santorini was a honking volcano in the middle of the Mediterranean until around 1600BC. It was also a major outpost for the Minoan civilization, which pre-dated the Greeks and vied for power against the Myceneans. Until the thing blew up. I mean the whole island popped it’s lid and left nothing but the edges of the mountain (the rim) and a vast sinkhole (the caldera) that spans 18 km at it’s widest point. This was the 2nd largest volcanic eruption in the history of humankind. The first was 73,000 years ago and left only 10,000 people on the planet. Look at the aerial shot and you’ll get the picture.

Aerial View of Santorini

Aerial View of Santorini

I’ve been to a lot of cool places on earth. I’ve seen many geological wonders. But this place takes the cake. Where else can you witness the raw force of nature at such a scale up close so accessibly? And the Greeks don’t mess around. They’ve built villages all along the inside of the rim. Stunning white villa/caves sit precariously on the edge of the abyss with winding stairways, cafés, terraces and infinity pools that scoff at the 700ft tsunami that rose from here 3600 years ago and destroyed Crete. It’s tasteful, yet alarming.

The cruise ships pull up to the harbor and a stream of tour buses pick up the pods and drop them off in the various villages, Oia being the most scenic and sunsettyful. The pathways in Oia are very narrow, which means it gets tight. The presence of the crowds is palpable, and this isn’t even close to high-season now. In July and August the place swells by multiples with throngs of people, 10 cruise ships at a time and nearly overflows into the volcano. And it’s not the type of tourist that ‘gets-it’. It’s the cruise-ship, packaged tourist, all-you-can-eat-buffet, day-excursion, barely-get-your-hands-dirty-with-the-local-culture stuff that I abhor. Mix that with Germans and Italians having their party holidays and add in a nice stream of backpacker-ouzo-thump-thump-full-moon-ravers. And again, I know, I am an unapologetic hypocrite and an elitist. Tough.

 

Cruise Ships in Santorini Caldera

Cruise Ships in Santorini Caldera

 

Scholarly types are pointing at Santorini as the most logical location for the legend of Atlantis. Plato provides the most lucid account of this mythical city, now under the sea. It would make sense that a Greek story actually occurred in Greece, considering their somewhat limited world-view at the time. Standing here I understand how it is possible. Much of his writing about Atlantis matches the place well.

But moreover, the metaphors in Plato’s tale of Atlantis strike me.”When the human nature got the upper hand” (Plato, Critias 121b), they became sinful and invaded by crimes. As a consequence, they were bound to loose their paradise. Maybe all this tourism is building up to something and we’re supposed to be lured here so that badass mother-earth can bitch-slap as many people as possible, during a full-moon party while all the cruise ships are having Mexico theme night.

So, again, the Paradox. I’m still looking out on the caldera. I just had an hour conversation with our villa’s concierge who is a South African transplant and manages a crop of luxury properties on Santorini. But she totally gets it and agrees. Yet, she moved here. She’s so drawn to the primitive power of her Atlantis, that the shlock are just a manageable nuisance that clog her paradise for a few months a year. AND, they enable her by providing buckets of cash for her thriving business.

For me, I am storing away the images and emotions so I can recall them when the world feels small. I doubt I will return here. I’ve got my slice of Atlantis and my ship sails tomorrow (no, its not a cruise ship, wiseass).

The Dish: Warm Country Feta

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Ambrosia & Nectar

Ambrosia & Nectar

Had an exceptional dish tonight that I needed to share. Up the hill from our villa on Santorini is a little place called Ambrosia & Nectar. Giada DiLaurentis beat us there and did a feature on this dish. The benefit is that we have the recipe to recreate it at home.

The cheese is just warm enough, but not too hot. The crust is flakey and the sauce is sweet. With the right Feta, the balance of saltiness and sweet play very well together. Sesame seeds and figs add layers that also work well. This could be an appetizer or a dessert. Amazing.

More thoughts on Santorini soon. I have conflicting feelings about the state of tourism and environmentalism here, though really appreciate being here in low season. I can only imagine the throngs of cruise-boaters in July and August filling the streets of Oia trying to grab that magical photo of the caldera and buy that special little trinket. Moreover, I can’t imagine what happens to all of the plastic bottles generated since there is ZERO natural potable water on the island.

Click here for Giada’s recipe courtesy of Food Network.

Warm Country Feta, Ambrosia & Nectar, Santorini

Warm Country Feta, Ambrosia & Nectar, Santorini

Interlude: Greek Food Porn

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Required Reading: Omnivore’s Dilemma

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Omnivores Dilemma

Omnivore's Dilemma

People have been telling me since the 2006 publication of Omnivore’s Dilemma that I must read it. Unfortunately the choices I make to manage my time on a daily basis have excluded reading. Next to food and travel, reading is a top passion of mine and I plan to reintroduce it as a regular element in my life. Fortunately when I travel I inhale books, so I try to catch up every time I’m on the road.

On this trip I’ve finally gotten to Michael Pollan’s masterwork. While all of the themes he discusses are quite familiar to me, the level of detail, investigation, history and insight makes Omnivore’s Dilemma a veritable textbook for anyone who eats. His research into the industrial food complex and pastoral farming are essential in aiding the choices we make at the supermarket, farmer’s market on in our own backyards.

I’ll get on my soapbox another time. I’d like to start a category specifically to discuss sustainable eating. I have a lot to say. But for now, let’s all get on the same page and read Omnivore’s Dilemma. If you have, post a comment about your experience. If you haven’t, pick it up and let me know.

Purchase The Omnivore’s Dilemma: HERE


Souvlaki Complex: Who You Calling Gyro?

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Pita, pork, giro. Nafplio, Greece

Pita, pork, giro. Nafplio, Greece

Let’s get right to it, a Gyro ain’t Greek! We love Gyros. Julie could live on vertically grilled lamb wrapped in a pita or lavash, stuffed with veggies and some tadziki or tahini. Visit any Mediterranean place in the USA and you can have a Gyro. But don’t ask for this in Greece.

 

It took us a week to figure it out. Frankly, we didn’t see it, and we didn’t ask. We’d look on menus and signs, but nada, zilch, nunca. So we started to get curious and asked our hotelier. “What is this thing we call Gyro? You know, pita sandwich, lamb, cucumbers?”. Hotelier: “Oh, lamb? You mean Souvlaki!”

Close, but not quite. Today we finally figured it out. Well, sort of.  We went to a Souvlaki restaurant. I quickly learned that Souvlaki is a generic term for lamb, often skewered like a kebab. Very popular in Greece with restaurants dedicated to the cause. But not a Gyro. Still, we were close.

And there on the menu we found it. Well, sort of. “Pita, chicken, giro”, “Pita, pork, giro”. Chicken? Pork? Julie wasn’t having it: “I would like the Pita, lamb, giro”. Waiter: “No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no” (said like Zohan). “Souvlaki lamb is too big to fit on pita. Only pork or chicken”. Sure enough I confirmed the vertical rotisserie had only pork and chicken. Lamb was for grilling – you know, Souvlaki. Kebabs. So, we ordered the Pita, one-of-each, giro.

Damn good eats (see pic). Pork was moist, flavorful and included tadziki, fried potatoes, tomatoes on a grilled pita. Chicken was also flavorful, but no tadziki and less exotic. We both had only one, even though our waiter emasculated us for not eating two.  They were only 2 euros each. This was as close as we’re gonna get to a Gyro.

Turns out that a Gyro is an American invention by a guy named Papa George. You can read an article about him, admittedly by his own company, here. If this stuff really interested you, like me, you can read the Gyro wiki HERE, which ascribes a relationship to Middle Eastern Shewarma and Turkish döner kebab.

There’s nothing wrong with inventing new stuff that’s kinda like an old-country dish. I can’t tell you when I ever saw spaghetti and meatballs in Italy. Sure, you can get polpette of various types and they certainly love their pasta, but to combine them – nah.

So, Americans, be proud and go eat some Gyro for me! I’ll happy continue with the pork and chicken pita or a lamb kebab until I get home. When I return, we’ll continue to enjoy our Gyros, for their own merits, and be content that the record is set straight.

Ed: (Don’t you just love how this whole post contradicts my post about bastardizing Greek salads? But Gyros are actually good, right?)

The Water of Love

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Today I was surprised. We were all surprised. It was one of those days where you stumble across something lovely and want to savor it, respect it, pay homage to it. I suppose writing this blog is the best I can do to honor our meal at To Nero Tis Agapis (The Water of Love) restaurant on the island of Spetses, Greece.

We planned to rent bikes and ride until it started to rain and then find somewhere for lunch. The rain held back and we made it a quarter of the way around the island and faced the decision: press on and take a chance of no more restaurants and possible rain, or turn back and eat. We decided to pack a lunch for a long ride tomorrow, since the weather forecast was more forgiving and find somewhere to eat lunch now.

I had a place stuck in my head that we had passed 10 or 15 minutes earlier. It was perched over the sea and had a white-linen elegance top to bottom, without feeling pretentious. It was totally empty.

I often judge a restaurant by the number of people inside. If it’s good, the locals will be eating there. But this was 2pm on a Tuesday in a shoulder season on an upscale tourist island. No matter, it was about to start raining and the place looked fine.

As I’ve mentioned in previous posts, I am really amazed by Greek hospitality. We have still yet to enjoy a meal without receiving something on the house. It must be a national ploy to justify higher costs by making visitors think they are getting something for free. Still, I love it! The people really take time to make you feel welcome, play with our son Judah and create an experience. Good for you, Greece.

Here we were welcomed, seated and treated to a warm basket of bread and an amous bouche of raw sardine in olive oil with parsley. The young waitress, originally from Athens, with perfect English, immediately offered suggestions. Have you tried this traditional dish or that type of fish? She had Julie and I hooked, as we love to get suggestions and let someone else do the ordering. This was our chance to let go and try some new things. We were in her hands.

 

Tarosalata, Fish Roe Dip, Spetses, Grecce

Taramosalata, Fish Roe Dip, Spetses, Grecce

 

She started us off with something so wonderful it was shocking how fast it went down. As you can see by the photo there was an ample sized plate of “Taramosalata”, a dip of fish roe, common to the region, but new to me. It was lightly fishy, but mostly creamy and fluffy and savory – oh my. We scooped and scooped with warm bread until I was dredging the plate for stragglers. Really, I was not expecting this and it started off this meal off very right.

 

Baked Cheese with Tomatoes

Baked Cheese with Tomatoes

 

Next she brought us some baked cheese with tomatoes and herbs. Clean and simple, filled with flavor and a sweet crust on the cheese. This was followed by our first foray into octopus in Greece. We both have mixed feelings about this sea-critter, as it universally seems chewy, but is tasty enough and seemingly a darling to foodies. Here, they balanced the chewiness by drying and then grilling it until slightly crispy. The dish was elevated with some grilled local mushrooms, similar to chanterelles, and tiny pearl onions, all drizzled with a fine balsamic reduction.

Fresh Cod, Before

Fresh Cod, Before

 

Fresh Cod, After

Fresh Cod, After

 

For our main course we were offered a choice of fresh fish, just off the boat. Interestingly, on the Greek Islands, most of the fish is frozen, which must be indicated on the menu, by law. Fresh fish is very seasonal and a mixed bag. Luckily, The Water of Love is devoted to seasonality and they keep up with local fishermen. Today we were offered cod and red mullet. We opted for the cod. It was prepared flash fried, whole. Upon piercing the skin, the flaky snow white flesh burst through. I drizzled mine with lemon, olive oil and pepper. Simple & simply perfect – perhaps the best piece of cod I’ve ever had.

 

Baklava

Baklava

 

For dessert we were served bakhlavah, fillo pastry with chopped nuts and honey and halvas, a semolina cake. Both were subtly sweet though I prefer the flakiness and nuttiness of bakhlavah. Of course they were on-the-house!

 

Halvas

Halvas

 

We spent a while chatting with our waitress, reveling in the fact that the seasonal crowds were still weeks away and we were their only guests. The rain subsided and we hopped back on our bikes filled with a bit of smugness in knowing that we just had an experience. Maybe it was a special occasion for the chef to step up, or maybe every meal at The Water of Love is this good. Regardless, unless you take the trip to Spetses and venture out of the main port to seek out this tiny enclave, you’ll just have to trust me.

Respect To the Greek Salad

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It’s a common occurrence to find a food made in its homeland significantly more appealing than the neutered counterpart we are served stateside. Pizza comes to mind. All Thai food falls into this realm. Who among us has had a proper fish taco outside of Baja? Well, to my surprise, the Greek Salad is also one of these dishes and I’m amazed that there is actually something more to this dish.

On any menu the LAST, I mean LAST salad I would ever order was the Greek salad. Frankly, I never knew who did. Why was it there? Who was it for? In the US the standard recipe seems to be iceberg lettuce paired with sliced olives, tomato wedges, chopped cucumbers, crumbled feta, onions and sport peppers crowned with a vinaigrette. What’s interesting is that it is not terribly different from the proper version, but subtle differences mean a lot here.

In Greece, the “Greek” salad uses tomatoes as the base. In fact, I’d like to say that the Greek Salad is a tomato salad, first and foremost. Everything else is there to compliment the tomato. They also cut their wedges in half, to make them bite sized without comprising the burst. There is no, or very little, lettuce in a Greek salad. It is very American to require roughage in our salads. Take it away and you have a much more focused offering. Feta comes in a block, topped with some finé herbs, which makes more sense, as you can add as you need. A nice hunk goes well with a tomato bite, rather than a smattering of crumbles randomly accumulated. The olive is one of those things that doesn’t translate well at home. Here they are buttery and light and add a compliment as opposed to a bitter contrast. We’ve mostly seen a variety with wrinkled black skins that are amazing. Include them whole, with the pit.

An important element in the mix is the red onion. Clearly they are using a small, fresh variety here because I am gobbling them up raw and with abandon. At home I often avoid the massive, thick sliced, musky rings pawned in salads. When I shop for onions I always seek farmer’s market treats – small, shiny skin, picked within a few days. You can’t beat the flavor. For this salad, a nice sliver size works best. 

I’ve yet to see a sport pepper here, but have universally seen green bell peppers. Now I’m no big fan of the green pepper. I prefer yellow and red for their sweetness and rarely find a use for green. But here it works perfectly. A crispy bite texturally and in flavor, it just makes sense. The dressing tends to be a very light olive oil and lemon or vinegar. Not much needed.

I’m clearly interpreting what I see and giving props to the Greeks for surprising me with simple, clean and sometimes elegant food. In fact, today, we had the best meal so far and one that could hold its own with many in my travels. But that’s the next post. For now, go try to make a proper greek salad and give it some respect.

First Meal in Athens, Greece [Complete with Jet Lag!]

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Judah at the dinner table, Athens, Greece

Judah's Babysitter in Athens, Greece

We arrived in Greece this morning on the day of Julie’s 40th birthday. To give her some respite from the 15 hours of travel with our four year old, I got her a spa afternoon and took the rugrat for the day. We walked the neighborhood called Monastiraki, in the shadow of the Acropolis.

 

Judah snacked on fried potatoes and grilled bread with olive oil “melted butter” to get him to eat it. I’m always amazed at how fresh and flavorful fries are everywhere else but at home. Our potatoes are just a symptom of the industrial farming complex (can you tell I am finally reading Omnivoure’s Dilemma?). These are small and dense, with a natural burst of flavor that we try to replicate by soaking our fast food fries in sugar water.

A few local beers got me in stride. The streets were bustling with young Greeks. My first impression was ‘that this ain’t Italy’! The people are quite stout and hearty – I won’t be headturning much here. But I was so pleased to see how unbelievably friendly they are, particularly to children. Our waiters became instant nannies and Judah played with abandon. This is going to be fun.

After Julie returned from her spa, it was clear that jet lag was beating us all down. We decided to dine early, which in Greece means 8:30! We headed out to a recommended spot, Mamacas….

When done right, I love the whitewashed Greek minimalism. Mamacas felt warm and inviting and it had a hum, despite the early hour. A few splashes of color and smells of roasted meats added to the sensual invitation.

The thing about traveling with a four year old is that we only have so much to entertain him. Meals are tough. His tastes lean towards standard American child fare, no matter how much we offer, cajole or entice. The kid loves his pizza, mac-n-cheese and hot dogs. So, when confronted with a long meal of adult food, Judah is indulged with his iPod. I know, we’re awful parents! But thanks to Yo Gabba Gabba and Super Why, our kid is happy, we’re sane and he is actually learning to read.

We started with a “fava bean puree” that actually arrived yellow in color. First bite confirmed that it was chick peas instead. Scooped with a warm grilled flatbread and topped with fresh, sweet red onions, lemon and perfect olive oil, it was fresh and clean. A great start.

Next was a spicy grilled feta cheese, so distant from the salty mess we put on “Greek” salads, I was confounded. Apparantly there a many more varieties of Feta than I’ve known and I’m excited to dive in. This preparation was simple and rustic, and even Julie, who shies away from the unhealthy, gobbled it up.

But the dish that floored both of us and signaled that this was going to be a good trip was the spit fired lamb. Low on presentation but off the charts on flavor it tasted like it was butchered today and immediately put on the spit, roasted all day and just reached it’s readiness for our carniverous appetites. The meat was earthy and tender with a minimum of seasoning and a burst of sweetness from the fat and skin. I commented that I wish I were one of those people who enjoyed gnawing to the bone, as this was worth savoring. Maybe I’ll become one as I did a pretty good job on the shank.

True to the Greek spirit the friendly waiters brought us free drinks and dessert while fawning over Judah. He’;s going to be an asset here, although I am writing this in the middle of the night because he cannot sleep. Ever try to teach a kid how to fall back to sleep when he isn’t tired? Where’s the damn iPod?

Meatpaper at Camino [Fight for your Corndog!]

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The other night I was invited by  my friend Yaella to join her for round three of my birthday celebrations at an event sponsored by Meatpaper magazine. The main draw for me was an opportunity to enjoy a growing trend of the whole-animal movement. Creative chefs find ways to utilize the entire animal in their cuisine, saving waste and pushing the limits of their skills. Pork was to be butchered and served. I was excited as there simply is no better animal to dissect and consume as a whole.

Upon arriving we were greeted and told there was liquor in the front, meat in the back. We queued up for some fancy cocktails that went down way too easily. I immediately noticed that there were way way too many people for my liking. When it comes to food events you’ve got to have a lot of passed nibbles or I’ll start to get surly. It seemed like everybody was well on their way to being surly.

There were buffet tables set up that had scant traces of pork, by means of Fatted Calf terrine, which was rustic and earthy – they never disappoint. Further down the table there was a curious vegetarian offering of potato salad next to a snap pea and asparagus salad. They were tasty and plentiful, but not why anyone had come. Lastly there were unidentified slices of Perbaco salumi of various hues and a bacon marshmallow that Yaella and I agreed would be best served on top of a sweet potato or root vegetable soup. I kept thinking to myself, if this is all we’re eating the natives will get restless.

Camino has a kicking kitchen. I’ve yet to eat off their regular menu, but I suspect I’ll return just to witness their use of the screaming fire pit. Apparently there was some butchering at one point in the evening. That would have been nice to see. Now, there was only a sea of people jostling, reaching and scavenging. It wasn’t pretty. At one point I saw a tray of five corn dogs sneak over the counter and a fight nearly broke out. A massive guy lunged over a spritely hippy chick as she slid the last dog from the tray and darted into the crowd. He looked like he was going to hit her.

This went on for another hour or so until I gave up hope that we would eat at all. I did manage to try some of the pork loin crostini (I think) and some lard-laced cookies. One benefit of everyone hovering at the kitchen was that the bar remained relatively empty. I got shitfaced.

Ultimately we toughed it out and enjoy some solid East-Bay people. But in the end we were still hungry so we slogged across the bridge and ended the night at Beretta!