Chicken and beetroot salad with orange, fennel and feta

From the layer cake of my last post to a salad. Huge difference, right? But there needs to be some kind a balance to what we eat. So, salad it is, and my favorite type of salad at that. One that is a full meal, with chicken, to fill you up and make you happy.

This is the type of meal I like on these early spring days, when it’s getting warm and I don’t want heavy dishes but rather light and bright ones. Salads are my go-to dishes during this time of year.

Colorful beetroots—golden, white, chioggia—that make the salad even more appetizing, greens, because I like my salads with a bit of green, feta, because I’m a feta fiend, and chicken, my favorite kind of meat.

With fresh, liquoricy fennel and a citrus dressing with orange zest, lemon juice, honey and olive oil to tie everything together. With crunchy walnuts, because when we eat something it’s not only the flavor that counts but also the texture, and some juicy orange segments, because, yes, we may all have fallen head first into the seasonal strawberries, but there are some luscious and tasty oranges left for us to savor too. So grab them while you still can.

The play of flavors is quite interesting in this salad—refreshing, sweet, sharp, earthy—making it a salad ideal for my palate. I hope it suits yours too.

Chicken and beetroot salad with orange, fennel and feta

Feel free to substitute the types of beetroot I used for regular red beetroot. Just be aware of the fact that red beets stain any other ingredient that has the audacity to share the same plate with them, so if your salad takes on a pink hue, don’t say that I didn’t warn you. Adding it at the last minute and tossing the salad ever so slightly, will save the situation though.

Use a mandoline, if you have it, to achieve those paper-thin slices. A mandoline would also be ideal to cut very thin slices of the onion and fennel.

If you don’t like feta—you don’t like feta????—use any other creamy white cheese you like that is sharp, not sweet.

I used two boneless and skinless chicken breasts that I seasoned with salt, pepper and cayenne, and cooked them in a frying pan with a little olive oil. You can use, however, any leftover chicken you may have, from roast chicken to grilled chicken, and it can be any part of the chicken as long as you cut it into bite-sized pieces.

This salad can be eaten either for lunch or dinner as it is quite filling yet light.

Yield: 2 main-course or 4 salad servings

Ingredients
2 large oranges
350 g raw beetroots (golden, white, chioggia), peeled and very thinly sliced
2 Tbsp lemon juice, freshly squeezed
2 Tbsp orange juice
Salt
3 Tbsp extra virgin olive oil
1 tsp white balsamic vinegar
1 tsp runny honey
Zest of 1 orange, finely grated
Freshly ground white pepper
150 g mixed baby leaves
½ large fennel bulb, trimmed and very thinly sliced, fronds reserved
1 medium red onion, peeled and thinly sliced
300 g cooked chicken, chopped into bite sized pieces
80-90 g feta, cubed
50 g walnuts, roughly chopped

Special equipment: mandoline (optional yet preferable), rasp grater


Preparation
Grate the zest of one of the oranges and place it in a small bowl.

The way to cut the 2 oranges is by using a sharp knife. First, cut off the peel, then the white pith all around the fruit, exposing the flesh, and finally, cut free the flesh of the fruit from the membranes that are in between the wedges. Squeeze the juice out of the membranes and into a large bowl. They should be about 2 Tbsp. Add the thinly sliced beetroot to the bowl along with 1 Tbsp lemon juice and ¼ tsp salt and mix well. Let stand for 15 minutes so the beetroot softens a bit.

Make the dressing. In the small bowl that you added the grated orange zest, add the olive oil, white balsamic vinegar, honey, the remaining 1 Tbsp lemon juice, a good pinch of salt and some white pepper, and using a wire whisk, blend well.

In a large bowl, mix gently with your hands the baby green leaves, fennel, red onion and the chicken. Add the oranges and the beetroot with its juices and mix gently with your hands. Scatter the feta and walnuts on top and finally pour over the dressing. Sprinkle with the reserved fennel fronds and again, using your hands, toss gently to combine all the ingredients.

Serve immediately with some fresh bread and a glass of dry white wine.

Lemon cake with Greek wild thyme honey glaze and pistachios

Since last week, the weather has taken a turn for the worse and it seems that spring is playing hide and seek, which I don’t mind at all. I don’t know why, but I’m not eager for the cold weather to go away just yet.

I’m still in winter mode and the weather conspires in my favor with heavy rain, howling winds and skies that have the most beautiful shades of dark blue and grey. Staying inside, watching movies and cooking was the perfect way to spend the weekend.

A cake felt necessary somehow.

I have baked this one numerous times. It is so good. It’s irresistible, even for a chocoholic like me. It’s a lemon cake with a Greek wild thyme honey glaze and pistachios.

The cake has the full flavor and aroma of the citrus fruit, it’s very moist and buttery, with a soft and dense crumb yet still very light. The glaze has the sweetness and fragrance of the thyme honey and is creamy and smooth, with the chopped pistachios on top adding texture.

It is perfect as a light, low-profile dessert after a big meal, or served thinly sliced with a cup of tea or coffee.

Lemon cake with Greek wild thyme honey glaze and pistachios
Adapted from Patisserie made simple by Edd Kimber

I don’t usually mention it in my recipes, but whenever I use lemon zest, it is from organic, unwaxed lemons. Unless you have picked the lemons yourselves from your backyard lemon tree (I have many of those in my home in Greece – sigh!), then please use unwaxed.

If you don’t have or can’t get hold of lemon extract, grate the zest of one extra lemon.

Yield: 1 cake / 8-10 pieces

Ingredients

for the cake
115 g unsalted butter, at room temperature, cut into pieces, plus extra for greasing the pan
250 g caster sugar
Zest of 2 lemons, grated
1 tsp lemon extract
4 large eggs
220 g all-purpose flour
2 tsp baking powder
125 g sour cream (or full-fat Greek yoghurt)

for the glaze
160 g icing sugar
75 ml (5 Tbsp) cream, full-fat (35%)
1 Tbsp Greek wild thyme honey (or a floral honey if you prefer)
Pinch of salt

A handful of shelled, unsalted pistachios, chopped

Special equipment: stand or hand-held mixer, jug, sieve, loaf pan (23 x 9 x 8 cm), baking paper


Preparation

for the cake
Butter the bottom and sides of your loaf pan with butter and line it with baking paper.
Preheat your oven to 180°C.

In the bowl of your stand mixer (or in a large bowl), add the softened butter, the sugar, the lemon zest and lemon extract, and using the paddle attachment (or your hand-held mixer), beat on medium-high speed until light and fluffy, for about 5 minutes.
Add the eggs into a jug and beat them lightly with a fork. Add the beaten eggs to the bowl in four additions, beating well after each addition to fully combine them.

Sieve together in a separate bowl the flour and baking powder. Add half of it into the bowl of the stand mixer and beat on low speed until just incorporated. Add the sour cream (or yoghurt) and beat on medium until fully combined. Then add the rest of the sieved flour and baking powder into the bowl and beat on low speed until just incorporated. Don’t overmix the batter or the cake will be tough.

Empty the cake batter into your prepared loaf pan and straighten the top with a spatula or the back of a spoon.
Place the pan on the low rack of your oven and bake for 35 minutes. Then transfer it to the middle rack of the oven and bake for a further 15-20 minutes or until a cake tester or toothpick inserted in the middle of the cake comes out clean.

Once ready, take the pan out of the oven and place it on a wire rack. After 15 minutes, remove the cake from the pan, lifting it up from the baking paper and allow it to cool completely on the rack.

for the glaze
In a medium-sized bowl add all the ingredients for the glaze and using a hand whisk, mix them well until you have a smooth glaze.

Take the cooled cake, remove the baking paper from the bottom and place it on the wire rack. Using a spoon or a spatula, glaze the cake and top with the chopped pistachios.

You can keep it at room temperature, covered, for 4-5 days.

On the first day of spring

The sun was out on the first day of spring, March twenty-first. The temperature was still low, it was terribly cold out, but there was something in the air that made me acutely aware of the change of seasons and what that would bring.

More sunshine, more light, more open windows and the sweet smell of flowers wafting in, berries, spring vegetables, and all the possibilities for delicious and colorful plates of food.

I turned my gaze to the dining room table and my eye caught a glimpse of the fruit basket. It was filled with grapefruits, tangerines and blood oranges and I immediately became aware of yet another thing. Of all that I would be missing once spring would arrive for good.

The citrus fruits, the cold nights sitting by a warm fire, the citrus fruits. Yes, I know I’ve said that twice but really, that’s all I’m going to miss from winter. The rest I’m sick of already.

I never get tired of citrus fruits and I always seem to rediscover their beauty once their season is almost over. I feel like I need to get the best out of them to last me for a whole year. I love their versatility, their aroma and vibrant color, their unique flavor and all that they can bring to a dessert, a cake, a granita.

On the first day of spring, I made a cake; a blood orange and Campari cake that was dreamy and everything it promised it would be. A luscious semolina and almond cake with Greek yoghurt and zest of the citrus fruit; with a syrup made with blood orange juice and the highly aromatic apéritif that soaked the cake, balancing the contrasting flavors and rendering a slight bitterness.

Filled with the sweet and acidic taste of blood oranges, the bitterness and spiciness of the Campari, the crunch of the semolina and ground almonds, it was overwhelmingly flavorful, so much so that S and I couldn’t stop eating it. And the color, oh the color, it was something truly inspiring.

Without a doubt, the best dessert I’ve tasted in a while, it surely deserves a place in your heart as well. Hurry now, grab those last blood oranges and make this.

Blood Orange, Campari and Semolina Syrup Cake
Slightly adapted from Polpo

Even though this is a syrup cake, it is not too sweet, as the bitter and acidic notes harmonize its flavors. Make sure to pair it with clotted cream (if you can find it, thankfully I can) or vanilla ice cream.

I always grind my own blanched almonds because the already ground ones are more expensive and not as fresh. You too can grind your own almonds in a food processor, being careful though not to turn them into a paste.

Yield: 10-12 servings

Ingredients

for the cake
Zest of 4 blood oranges
350 g Greek strained yoghurt, full-fat
300 g caster sugar
4 medium-sized eggs, lightly beaten with a fork
250 g unsalted butter, melted and cooled
350 g fine semolina
100 g blanched ground almonds

Unsalted butter for greasing the pan

for the syrup
680 ml fresh blood orange juice (from about 8 fruits)
110 ml Campari
300 g caster sugar

Special equipment: round springform pan 22-23 cm in diameter, rasp grater


Preparation

for the cake
Preheat your oven to 170 degrees Celsius / 340 Fahrenheit.

Prepare your pan by greasing the base and sides with butter.

In a large bowl, add the zest of the blood oranges, the yoghurt, sugar, the lightly beaten eggs and the melted and cooled butter. Stir well with a spatula until you have a homogenous mixture and add the semolina and ground almonds. Mix well with the spatula and empty the mixture into the prepared pan. The mixture will be thick and you will need to level the top with the spatula or the back of a spoon.

Place the pan on the middle rack of the preheated oven and bake for 30-35 minutes, until a cake tester or toothpick inserted in the middle of the cake comes out clean.

Remove the pan from the oven and onto a wire rack. Leave the cake to cool in the pan.

for the syrup
While the cake is cooking, prepare the syrup which should be poured hot on the warm cake.

In a medium-sized, heavy-based saucepan, add the blood orange juice, Campari and sugar and place over a medium heat. Stir with a spoon until the sugar melts and bring syrup to the boil. Turn heat down to low and simmer the syrup for 30 minutes, or until you have a slightly thick syrup, skimming the white foam that gathers on top.

Prick the cake all over with a skewer and pour the hot syrup over the top in two batches, waiting until the cake absorbs it before adding more. Allow the cake to absorb the syrup and cool down completely. Then remove the interlocking side band of the pan and serve the cake, cut into slices.

Serve with clotted cream, whipped cream or vanilla ice cream.

The cake will keep for 4-5 days, covered, at room temperature and it doesn’t lose its wonderful flavor, on the contrary it becomes even better.

Fresh

Yesterday was an extremely hot day, for northern European standards that is, and once upon a time, on such a day, I would go straight to the fridge and get myself a coke, a diet coke, which had been an obsession of mine for many years. Not any more.

About five years ago, I decided to quit drinking any type of soda. It was a good decision. One of those I'm proud I made, along with quitting smoking four years ago. Have I ever told you I was a smoker? No? Well, I was. Not any more.

It's a smart thing I decided to quit some of my bad habits, or addictions I should say, early on, in my twenties, because now that I'm in my early thirties, my body is already thanking me. I'm sure down the road it'll be even more thankful.

I don't mean to get all preachy on you, who am I to talk, I'm full of bad habits still, but this is my reality. However, since we're telling truths here, the reason I used to get pissed off at people who'd tell me how they quit this and that and how good it felt, was because they'd hit a nerve. I didn't want to think of my bad habits, I was scared to admit to them. I didn't want to examine myself and find that what I was doing, was actually detrimental to my health.

Anyway, let me get back to what I was trying to say in the beginning of this post before I got sidetracked. A hot day, that required a drink to quench my thirst, to invigorate and refresh me. Not a soda, nothing that contains soda, but rather a drink that's totally natural, fresh and sweet. A drink filled with the aromas of rosewater, honey and lemon.

A fresh, homemade, rosewater and honey lemonade.

P.S. I will never quit eating chocolate, just so you know. Or meat, or butter, or booze, okay?








Rosewater and Honey Lemonade

I've always loved the flavor of honey paired with lemon yet every time I added honey straight into a fresh lemonade, it wasn't right. The flavor of the honey simple syrup is more subtle, more rounded and it suits my tastes better.

Make sure to use a mild honey whose flavor you enjoy.
You can use the leftover honey simple syrup in all kinds of drinks, alcoholic and otherwise.

Yield: serves 4 / 450 ml honey simple syrup

Ingredients
200-250 ml freshly squeezed lemon juice (from 5-7 lemons)
200 ml honey simple syrup
250 ml cold water
½ - 1 tsp rosewater
Ice cubes

for the honey simple syrup
200 g caster sugar
150 g mild-flavored, runny honey
240 ml water

Special equipment: juicer


Preparation

for the honey simple syrup
In a small saucepan, add the sugar, the honey and the water and bring to the boil over high heat, stirring constantly with a spoon until the sugar and the honey have dissolved. Once the syrup comes to the boil, foam will accumulate on top. Scoop it out with a metal spoon and remove the pan from the heat. Allow the syrup to cool completely before adding it to the lemonade.

You can keep the simple syrup in a glass container, covered, in the fridge for a week.

for the lemonade
In a pitcher, add the lemon juice, 200 ml of the honey simple syrup, the cold water and the rosewater and stir well (I use the back of a wooden spoon to stir mine). Add more or less simple syrup depending on how tart your lemons are.
Serve into glasses filled with ice cubes and enjoy.

A red granita

I said this again about two weeks ago, I'm not giving up on citrus fruit yet.
When I went to my greengrocer's the other day, I found the most amazing blood oranges looking up at me from one of the stalls, begging me to take them home. It was futile trying to resist them. Of course I ended up with a bagful of them.






On my way home, I was daydreaming of juicing them into ruby-red liquid nectar but then the image switched to that of a luscious green salad dressed with scarlet-colored orange segments. What I actually ended up making, was something totally different and unexpected. A blood orange granita with juniper berries and Dutch jenever.






The recipe I followed called for gin, but living in the country that gave birth to gin or more accurately, jenever, which was later taken by the English and turned into gin, I couldn't use anything less than the original and iconic alcoholic spirit.






Jenever (pronounced jeh-nay-fer) is by far better than its English counterpart and even though I'm by no means an expert in alcoholic drinks, a single try was enough to convince me of its superiority. There are two types of jenever, oude (old) and jonge (young), yet this distinction has nothing to do with the age of the spirit but rather the process of its distillation.






Jonge jenever is the mildest-tasting of the two. It has a dry, neutral flavor, reminiscent of vodka or the Greek tsipouro, and it's clear-colored, much like gin, whereas oude jenever is caramel-colored and more aromatic. It has a robust, malty, sweet and full flavor, and taste-wise, bears a similarity to whiskey. Both these types of jenever are made with the addition of juniper berries, which give it its unique flavor, and actually jenever means juniper in Dutch.






I'm not very much accustomed to using juniper berries in my cooking as they're not common in Greek cuisine but ever since I came to Holland, I discovered their unique qualities and they swiftly became a staple in my spice rack. I have used them with venison and in marinades for pork and beef—their pungent and piney aroma and taste complement game and red meat well—, but this was the first time I was using them in a dessert, and a granita at that.






The blue-black dried berries manage to give such an earthy quality to the zingy citrus-based granita, that it is quite remarkable. The blood orange, with its bright color and even brighter flavor, the gently spiced sugar syrup and the addition of jenever, make this granita refreshing, rejuvenating, slightly boozy and not too sweet. The ideal palate cleanser after all the meat consumed at the Easter table, don't you think?










Blood Orange Granita with Juniper Berries and Dutch Jenever
Adapted from The Wall Street Journal

The original recipe calls for gin but I opted for jonge jenever. Don't use oude jenever because it has a different taste.

In Greece, you can buy dried juniper berries at spice stores. In Holland, you can find them in every super-market.

To make this suitable for kids, omit the jenever/gin from the recipe.






Yield: 6-8 servings

Ingredients
1 tsp dried juniper berries (15-17 berries)
230 ml water
115 g caster sugar
470 ml blood orange juice, freshly squeezed
45 ml Dutch jonge jenever (or gin)

Special equipment: mortar and pestle or rolling pin, sieve, shallow baking tray or dish 33 x 24 cm in size (approximately)


Preparation
Crush the juniper berries in a mortar and pestle or with a rolling pin. Place them in a small, heavy-bottomed saucepan along with the water and caster sugar. Set saucepan over medium-high heat and stir the sugar until it dissolves. Bring to the boil, turn heat down to low and simmer for 5 minutes. Remove the pan from the heat and let juniper berries steep until the syrup has cooled completely.


In the meantime, squeeze the blood oranges and pour the juice into a medium-sized bowl. Pass the cool syrup through a sieve and into the blood orange juice. Discard the juniper berries.
Add the jenever or gin and stir well with a spatula.


Pour the mixture into a large, shallow baking dish or tray, large enough that the liquid isn't more than 3-4 cm deep. I used a 33 x 24 cm tray and it worked well. If you use a smaller tray, the granita will take a very long time to freeze, which is not good.
Place the tray in the freezer for 1 hour, until the liquid turns slushy. Take it out of the freezer and scrape the granita with a fork, breaking up the ice, and put it again in the freezer. Repeat the same process every hour, until the granita is completely frozen. This will take about 4 hours, depending on how strong your freezer is.


Scrape the frozen granita with one or two forks and scoop it into bowls or glasses, chilled if you want. Serve immediately.

The granita will keep in the freezer for many days, as long as it is covered well with cling film. Naturally, the first few days, it's at its best.






Happy Easter to everyone who is celebrating today! For us Greeks, Easter Week starts tomorrow and Easter is next Sunday!