Tag Archives: greece

Greece Revisited

Posted on by
1

Hosted a dinner party on Saturday night. The objective was to recreate some of the flavors of our Greece trip. While everyone was effusive with their compliments, I’d give the performance mixed reviews. Here was the menu:

Babaganouj
Tzatziki
Greek Salad
Grilled, Herb-Rubbed Leg of Lamb
Grilled Fennel
Grilled Yellow Potatoes
Petite Strawberries with Yogurt and Honey

I made the baba a few days in advance with an eggplant from our planet organics box. Real simple, tahini, lemon, garlic, parsely. Tzatziki is also pretty simple. Peel and seed a cucumber, puree with lemon juice, clove of garlic and some dill. Mix with 1.5 cups of greek yogurt. Both served with an Acme sweet batard, nice and warm.

Greek Salad

Greek Salad

For the salad, you can refer to the previous post where I spell out rules. Two farmers market visits scored me some vine tomatoes, sweet red onion, green peppers and cucumbers. I assembled the salad in two layers since I was feeding nine. I piled fresh dill in between the layers and put some slabs of feta on top. A simple splash of olive oil and citrus vinegar was all that was necessary to coax the best from the veggies.

Fennel Before Grilling

Fennel Before Grilling

Everything was going smoothly. For the mains, I purchased five pounds of a pastured, grass-fed leg of lamb. I figured I’d try out Avedano’s, an oft-mentioned butcher in Bernal (on Cortland). I rubbed the sucker in rosemary, thyme and shopped garlic and let it sit for four hours. I prepped the fennel by trimming and quartering the bulbs and tossing them in olive oil, salt and pepper. For the potatoes, which were small and lovely, I par-boiled them until al-dente, halved them and tossed them in olive oil, rosemary, salt and pepper.

Potatoes Before Grilling

Potatoes Before Grilling

Once the grill was hot I put the fennel on and got some lovely char going. From previous experiences I learned that fennel needs to be cooked through and takes a long time. Crunchy fennel doesn’t work. Once browned I moved them to the edges of the grill, away from the direct heat. I then did the same for the lamb, getting some char on and then moving the legs away from the direct coals (which I only put on half of my Weber).

Leg of Lamb, Marinating

Leg of Lamb, Marinating

I cooked the lamb to 135 degrees, medium rare. Pulled it off, let it rest. Off come the fennel, tossed in the remaining oil, salted and served. Put the potatoes on the direct heat to crisp up for a few minutes while I sliced the lamb. I found the meat to have a confusing maze of fat and tissue. There was plenty of meat, but I think the next time I would trim up the sections better to eliminate the unnecessary stuff. Pulled the potatoes off, cut them into quarters and tossed them back in the rosemary oil.

The fennel was sublime. Really. Best dish of the night. I can’t imagine a better preparation. The potatoes were good, but were made even better as my friend David and I dredged them into the oil. The trick is to make sure these guys are well coated. Everyone complimented the meat, but I wasn’t sold. I found it to lack lambiness. I hope this isn’t a symptom of the grass-fed. Perhaps it was the cut or the preparation – I’ll own it if it’s me. The only way to tell is to give it another shot. It’s a long summer.

Julie flexed her culinary muscle by taking over the strawberry dessert. I didn’t leave much yogurt so she dished out a dollop over some sweet, petite farmer’s market strawberries and a little dash of honey. Really, a perfect ending to the meal. Simple, sweet and small.

On My Way Home: Fresh Fish!

Posted on by
Reply

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

Posted on by
Reply
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

Posted on by
1

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

Posted on by
1
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

Posted on by
Reply

Souvlaki Complex: Who You Calling Gyro?

Posted on by
3

 

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

Posted on by
2

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

Posted on by
2


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!]

Posted on by
Reply

 

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?