The Peinirli

Soutzouki and pastourmas have always been staples in my fridge in Greece. Here in Holland they’re impossible to find and even if I do manage to scare up something that resembles any one of them, their taste and quality is a far cry from what I’m used to.

One of the things I brought back with me from Greece, besides the good supply of chocolates, are these two delicacies. Soutzouki, as I’ve previously mentioned, is a spicy fresh sausage made nine out of ten times with beef meat, and pastourmas is seasoned, spicy air-cured beef.

The best way to eat these two is to simply slice them and serve them with a chunk of fresh bread and a shot glass of ouzo; they make the perfect meze on a warm summer evening. On the other hand, a wonderful way to savor them is adding them to a peinirli.

The Greek word Peinirli (Πεϊνιρλί) derives from the Turkish word Peynirli which translates to “with cheese” (peynir means cheese in Turkish). Peinirli is a boat- or rather canoe-shaped yeasted bread, similar to the Turkish pide but larger, with a dough that’s soft inside and beautifully crusty but not hard on the outside.

Peinirli is beloved by all Greeks, especially those whose families come from Constantinople and Smyrni as mine, but also Pontus. When Greeks from Pontus (the Greek name for the Turkish Black Sea south coast) arrived in Greece in the 1920’s after the population exchange between Greece and Turkey, some of them settled in Drosia, an Athenian suburb, and opened restaurants that served their specialty, the peinirli. Till today, Athenians make the almost one-hour trip by car to Drosia to have the best peinirli in Greece.

One more thing that makes peinirli unique and delicious is its fillings, with the traditional one being the Greek kaseri cheese that sizzles in the middle of the risen baked dough, and the butter that needs to be added as soon as the little doughy boat comes out of the oven so it can melt gloriously on top of said cheese.

Peinirli can have various other fillings like minced meat, eggs, tomato, ham, sausages and many more. In my family, what constitutes a traditional peinirli is one filled with soutzouki or pastourma, cheese and tomato.

The pungent and spicy flavor of both pastourma and soutzouki paired with the rich cheese and fresh tomato make for a tasty treat. Both these delicacies are quite heavy when cooked though, so tread cautiously. Try not to eat too much.

No matter what kind of filling you end up using in your peinirli, I do hope you enjoy this classic Greek yeasted savory delight.

Peinirli

Peinirli is quite substantial fare and can be enjoyed as a main meal, much like pizza, or as a snack cut in smaller pieces.

If you can’t find soutzouki, you can use any other kind of sausage you want. Same with pastourmas, just substitute with another type of spicy air-cured beef.

If you have a pizza stone, then by all means use it to bake the peinirli. The result will be excellent.

Semolina flour is finely milled semolina (it’s not fine semolina but semolina that is so finely milled that has the texture of flour). In Greece, this flour is widely used for bread and all kinds of yeasted savory doughs. If you can’t find it, use strong bread flour.

Yield: 8 peinirli

Ingredients

for the dough
300 g all purpose flour, plus extra for sprinkling your work surface
200 g semolina flour (from durum wheat)
9 g instant dried yeast
1 tsp sea salt
½ tsp sugar
200 ml lukewarm water
150 ml lukewarm fresh whole milk
50 ml good quality olive oil, plus extra for greasing dough and bowl

for the cheese filling
Greek kasseri cheese or Swiss Emmentaler, grated
Unsalted butter, preferably sheep’s butter

for the pastourma or soutzouki filling
Pastourma, sliced
Soutzouki, sliced
Tomato, sliced
Greek kasseri cheese or Swiss Emmentaler, grated

Special equipment: box grater, stand mixer with dough hook attachment (optional), large baking sheet, baking paper, pizza stone (optional)


Preparation
In the bowl of your stand mixer or in a large bowl, add the flours, the yeast, sugar, salt (making sure it doesn’t come in contact with the yeast), the lukewarm water and milk, and the olive oil.

If you’re kneading in a stand mixer, attach the dough hook and knead for about 7 minutes, on the lowest speed, until the dough no longer sticks to the sides of the bowl, remains slightly moist and it is smooth and elastic. Empty it onto a lightly floured surface (use all–purpose flour for this) and knead it a little to see how it feels. It should feel a little sticky to the touch.

If you're kneading by hand, once you have mixed the ingredients together into a rough dough, take it out of the bowl and onto a clean surface and knead well. It'll take about 10 minutes. What you're aiming for is a soft and pliable dough that's sticking slightly to your hands and that remains moist but not overly so that you can’t knead it.

Note: Not all flours are the same, so if your dough is very wet, don't be afraid to add more flour (all-purpose flour). Add a little at a time though, testing the consistency of the dough. You don't want to end up with a stodgy, stiff dough. I find that with this dough, I always seem to add a little more flour so that it doesn’t stick too much (about 35 g more).

Shape the dough into a ball, lightly grease the bowl of your stand mixer (or a large bowl) as well as the dough ball with olive oil and place the dough inside the bowl. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap and place it in a warm place, allowing the dough to proof and double in size. It will take about 1 hour to proof, depending on how warm the room you leave it in is.
During the winter, I always leave my dough next to a working radiator. Not on top of it but on a chair and right in front of it.

Once the dough has proofed, take it out of the bowl and knead it for a couple of seconds just to deflate it a bit. It should feel smooth, pliable and soft. Divide the dough into 8 equal pieces (around 115 g each) and shape into balls. Oil the balls (so they don’t stick to one another) and place them in the bowl after you oil it again. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap and place it in a warm place, allowing the balls of dough to proof until almost doubled in sized. It will take 30-40 minutes.

Preheat your oven to 225 degrees Celsius / 435 Fahrenheit.
If you have a pizza stone, place it on the lower rack of the oven to preheat as well. If not, prepare your baking sheet by lining it with baking paper.

Once the dough balls have proofed, take each one and place it on a floured surface and flatten it into an oblong shape (about 26x13 cm). Take the bottom edge and fold it (see photo below). Then take the upper edge and fold it (see photo). Seal the two pointy ends by pressing them together (where the two folded parts overlap). If it’s difficult because of the flour, add a little water with your fingertips between the two pieces of dough and press them together to seal. You will have a boat-shaped dough with elevated sides that’ll keep your filling inside.
Continue with the rest of the dough balls. My oven is small so I can fit only three at a time. While the first batch is baking I shape the rest.

Place the shaped peinirli onto the prepared baking sheet (or onto the pizza stone that you have sprinkled with a little flour), prick the inside of the “boat” (where you’ll later add your filling) with a fork so it doesn’t puff up and place on the lower rack of your preheated oven. Bake for 10 minutes, until they begin to color. Take them out and lower the heat to 185 degrees Celsius / 365 Fahrenheit.

Fill the peinirli with the ingredients of your choice. If you’re using cheese, add a generous amount in the middle. If you’re using the soutzouki or pastourma, add a couple of slices of tomato at the bottom, followed by a couple of slices of soutzouki or pastourma and then some grated cheese on top. Be careful not to overflow the boat, no pun intended.

Return the peinirli in the oven and bake for a further 10 minutes, until the cheese melts but doesn’t brown. It shouldn’t form a crust.

Take them out of the oven and if you made the cheese peinirli, add a couple of knobs of butter on top to melt.

Serve immediately.

The Spetzofai

Ideally, I would prefer to use in my cooking fruits and vegetables that are in season and that don't come from thousands of kilometers away or from another continent but from the country I live in. That, I believe, is something every one of us should be doing anyway.






Eating foods that are in season, not only reduces your carbon footprint but it's a way to actively support your local farmers and save money. When produce is in season locally and it's in abundance, it is usually less expensive and you can get more for your money. Let's face it, if you want to buy strawberries in the middle of winter, you're going to have to pay thrice as much for half the amount. Is it really worth it?






Not to mention the health benefits of eating fresh, organic, unprocessed foods, and of course one other factor, the taste; nothing beats the vibrant, highly fragrant and juicy quality of in-season fruits and vegetables that are packed with flavor and nutrients.






Having said all that, I am one of those people who get uncontrollable craves from time to time and do succumb to the allure of the odd aubergine (to make papoutsakia) or asparagus in winter and I have to admit, even though reluctantly, that I eat courgettes all year round.






There are times when I simply can't help myself. When a glistening and perfectly round greenhouse tomato smiles at me in the produce isle of the super market when all I have been craving that day was a Greek horiatiki salad, well, it's too much of a pressure not to put that tomato in my basket. And when relatives from Greece have sent me a boxful of goodies, including horiatika loukanika (Greek, country/peasant sausages) so spicy and aromatic that they beg of me to make spetzofai with them, what can I do? I have to buy peppers, even though they are not in season.






The traditional Greek dish of Spetzofai (or Spetsofai) has always been among my favorite dishes from a very young age. It is a rustic spicy dish of peppers and thick country sausages in a rich tomato sauce, and it is a specialty of the Mount Pelion and Volos regions of Thessaly in Central Greece. These regions produce the most robust-flavored and delicious, fiery sausages made from goat, sheep, beef and pork meat, that are generally used in dishes like the spetzofai.






Even though spetzofai is a classic Greek dish, its name is derived from the Italian word 'spezzatino' (meaning a dish containing small pieces of meat / from the verb spezzare = to break something into pieces). The word spetzofai is a composite word (spetzo- and -fai); the first part, 'spetzo', is derived from spezzatino and the second part 'fai', is the Greek word for food.






This deliciously luscious dish is made in Greece all year round and it is generally eaten as a main dish. It is also offered as a mezes, served in a small plate and accompanying other small savory treats, along with lots of tsipouro or wine.






There are many variations of spetzofai all around Greece; the one from Pelio contains aubergines, while in other areas they prepare it with just green bell peppers and elsewhere, multicolored peppers as well as hot and piquant ones are added to the dish.

Greek kefalotyri cheese, cubed

My spetzofai is made with a variety of peppers, Greek spicy country sausages, fresh tomatoes and red wine, and it has an intensely deep and earthy flavor. It is one of those dishes that once you get a taste of it, you simply can't stop eating it. Paired with feta or kefalotyri cheese, lots of crusty bread* to soak up all that thick red sauce, and some booze, it is guaranteed to warm you up during the dark and snowy days of winter—like the ones we've been having.






* or, you can just combine cheese and bread into one, and pair the spetzofai with another Mount Pelion specialty, the tyropsomo—the Greek feta-filled bread.







Greek Spetzofai (Peppers and Spicy Country Sausages in a Rich Tomato Sauce)

If you use sausages that are very piquant and spicy, you may want to tone it down with the peppers, using only mild-flavored ones like bell peppers. If your sausages are not that spicy, then go all out with the peppers and use the most fiery ones you can handle.

I used long sweet red peppers from Florina and long light-green mild peppers (bull's horn peppers), called 'kerato' in Greece. If you can't find these where you live, you can use what's available in your country.

If you can find them, use Greek country spicy sausages from Pelio or Volos, otherwise any kind of thick spicy sausage will do. The flavor of the sausages is prominent, as the peppers are fried in the rendered sausage fat, so make sure you use good quality sausages.

Read here on how to handle hot chili peppers.






Yield: 4 main servings

Ingredients
4 spicy thick country sausages (pork or beef / I prefer pork), sliced thickly (about 4 cm-thick slices)
2 Tbsp olive oil
2 large green bell peppers, deseeded and cut into large pieces
4 long sweet red peppers, deseeded and cut into large strips
2 red long chili peppers, deseeded and cut in half lengthwise
1 green long chili pepper, deseeded and cut in half lengthwise
5 long light-green mild peppers, deseeded and cut into large strips
3 medium-sized tomatoes (not skinned), puréed in a processor, or 450-500 g canned puréed tomatoes
1 ½ tsp tomato paste
60 ml (¼ cup) dry red wine, Greek Agiorgitiko or Cabernet Sauvignon
Salt
Freshly ground black pepper

Special equipment: food processor (optional), a large, shallow, heavy-bottomed pan or skillet with lid


Preparation
In a large, shallow, heavy-bottomed pan or skillet, add 1 Tbsp of the olive oil and heat over medium-high heat. When it starts to shimmer, add the sausage slices and fry them until they release some of their fat and take on a golden brown color, for about 5 minutes. Remove them from the pan with a slotted spoon and place them in a large bowl.
Add the green bell peppers to the pan and sauté them well on both sides, until they soften a bit. Remove them from the pan and into the large bowl with the sausages.
Add the long red peppers and both green and red chili peppers to the pan. Sauté them well on both sides, until they slightly soften, remove them from the pan and place them in the bowl.
Add the long green peppers, sauté them well on both sides, until they soften, remove them from the pan and place them in the bowl.


Then add the puréed tomatoes and cook over medium heat, scraping the bottom of the pan as you do, to get all those burnt up bits that are oh-so-flavorful. Cook the puréed tomatoes until they start to thicken and add the tomato paste. Stir it around to dissolve and add the rest of the olive oil (1 Tbsp) and the wine. Stir everything around and when the alcohol from the wine has evaporated and you can't smell it anymore, allow the sauce to simmer for 3 minutes.
Then, return the sausages and peppers to the pan, stir everything around, mixing all the ingredients well, and allow to come to the boil. Put on the lid, turn heat down to low and allow to simmer gently for about 20 minutes, until the sausages are cooked through and the peppers have softened.
Have a taste and check for seasoning. If the sausages you're using are too spicy or salty, you'll probably won't need to add any salt or pepper.

Serve with lots of crusty bread, with feta or kefalotyri and don't forget the tsipouro or red wine.

The spetzofai is even tastier the following day, as the flavors have had time to develop and deepen.

The Saganaki

There are dishes that you aspire to cook, dishes that intimidate or unnerve you and then there are other dishes, those that effortlessly happen in your kitchen. They come together easily, unassumingly, they ooze comfort and smell and feel like home.






It's the kind of food that is cooked for and meant to be shared by family and friends. It is food prepared on a whim, when you're all sitting at the backyard on an early spring evening and you suddenly realize everyone's hungry and you could use something to eat.

Fresh soutzouki

It is familiar food that your mom would cook, food over which fights would start once upon a time at the dinner table between you and your brother, when you'd fight over the last bite. This is one of those dishes.






This is Politiko Saganaki; a dish that is the epitome of my family's comfort food. Politiko refers to the type of Greek cuisine I grew up with (of which you can read all about here) and the saganaki, well, if you don't know what saganaki is then I'm your girl.






Anyone who is familiar with Greek food knows saganaki. The word saganaki (σαγανάκι in Greek) is a diminutive of sagani (σαγάνι) which means two-handled frying pan or dish so, essentially, saganaki is a small round frying pan. Saganaki also refers to a number of dishes in Greek cuisine that are cooked in this type of pan.






And now that we've gotten over with the formalities and definitions of the word, let's get down to business. Saganaki is simply awesome fare. It is a traditional mezes and one of the ultimate types of food that all Greeks love. Saganaki dishes are always present in any large Greek feast or intimate gathering and are served at the table directly in the pan, with a side of good wine, beer or ouzo. Since the saganaki is a small pan, the portions are rather small, usually one or two servings.






Most people are under the misconception that saganaki is fried Greek cheese but, even though fried cheese like kefalograviera, kefalotyri or feta is a saganaki dish (and among the best ones of the kind), it is not the only such dish there is. There's garides (shrimps) saganaki made with whole shrimps, tomato and feta cheese, mydia (mussels) saganaki, and different vegetables or meat saganaki, in which case the limit is only your imagination.
Oh, and something else, saganaki is not a flambé dish. Just setting the record straight.






And then we have my kind of saganaki, the Politiko Saganaki. At first glance, this may seem like just a dish of fried eggs and sausage. No, it's far more than that. There are juicy tomato slices hidden underneath the eggs, sizzling in the clarified butter. There's crumbled feta on top and hot red pepper. But the secret of all this, is the sausage, which is not an ordinary one. It's soutzouki*; a thick, fresh, spicy and hot beef sausage that is traditional in Politiki cuisine and is what makes this dish extraordinary.

Fresh soutzouki

The flavor of the soutzouki is deep and unique. It has a spicy quality that slightly burns the tip of your tongue as you savor it and along with the creamy eggs, salty feta and fresh tomato, you have the quintessential Greek fried saganaki. A dish you should try simply because it will be one of the best Greek dishes you will ever have.


*Not to be confused with soutzoukos, which is a Greek sweet made with grape-must and almonds.















Politiko Saganaki (Greek Saganaki with Eggs, Tomato, Feta and Soutzouki)

Not all Greeks are familiar with soutzouki—it is a fresh sausage used predominantly in Politiki cuisine—and many are not used to its spiciness and piquant flavor. It contains cumin, sumac and hot ground pepper and is usually made with beef although you can find some that are made with pork. It's fairly fatty and you can add it not only to this saganaki but also to pizzas and sandwiches.

It is really worth the effort of tracking down soutzouki. The dish will not be the same without it and you'll be missing out on a good thing. You can try it at Greek, Armenian, Lebanese or Turkish food stores. I can't really suggest a substitute for it because there's nothing else like it but you can try a hot and spicy beef sausage of your choice. What I can suggest though, if you're living in Athens, Greece or even if you're just visiting, is that you go to the store* that sells the best soutzouki and pastourma in the world. The store that has been in the same location for more than 50 years and from which my grandfather used to buy his soutzouki since the '60s.

You can either use clarified butter** or vegetable oil in this dish but I would strongly suggest you use clarified butter. Even though it's not the healthiest thing out there (who are we kidding, this dish is not a health conscious dish but we can still be friends, right?), it is the best choice for this saganaki.






Yield: 2 servings

Ingredients
3 Tbsp clarified butter (or light-flavored vegetable oil like sunflower oil)
3 slices of fresh soutzouki, thickly sliced (casing removed)
4-5 tomato slices, thinly sliced
3 large fresh eggs
50 g feta cheese
Salt
Boukovo (Greek hot red pepper) or cayenne pepper, ground

Special equipment: saganaki (small, round frying pan with two handles) or small frying pan


Preparation
Heat the clarified butter (or vegetable oil) in the saganaki or other small frying pan, over medium heat and when it starts to shimmer, add the soutzouki slices. Brown them on both sides (they will brown very quickly because the soutzouki is a fresh sausage, it will take about 20 seconds per side).


Take the soutzouki slices out of the pan and add the tomato slices. Sauté them for 1 minute until they soften a bit, carefully crack the eggs on top and arrange the soutzouki slices between them. Fry the eggs over medium heat to your liking.

Turn the heat off and crumble the feta cheese on top. Season with a little salt (keep in mind that soutzouki is fairly salty) and boukovo or cayenne pepper.

Serve immediately, directly in the saganaki.



*The name of the store is "Ο Γιώργος" (O Giorgos) and the address is
Δ. Γούναρη 21-23, στοά Πολίτου, Πειραιάς (D. Gounari 21-23, stoa Politou, Piraeus)

**Clarified butter is butter from which the milk solids and moisture have been removed. What remains is pure butterfat. Clarified butter can be heated to higher temperatures than regular oil. If you want to make your own clarified butter, you can follow David Lebovitz's superb recipe.

Here We Go!

Many claim that the way one cooks an omelette is the way of telling if one's a good cook or not.

I claim that what one puts inside an omelette is the way of telling if one's a good cook or not.

Call me crazy, but I hate a plain omelette. Most French people would have me killed for uttering this phrase but it's the truth! Ever since I was a child I always detested it, or so my mother claims. Eating a single egg constituted a nightmare for me. The poor woman always tried to embellish every egg dish she cooked with different ingredients so that I would eat it.
She'd use the secret power of tomatoes, cheese and French fries incorporated into scrambled eggs in order for me to even sample them. Other times she would use the allure of olive oil, feta cheese and rustic bread as an accompaniment to fried eggs.
Eventually as the years passed she actually had me hooked! I enjoyed the sight and taste of a well cooked omelette, with all the trimmings of course, but it wasn't until I began cooking omelettes myself that I truly discovered what one can do with the help of a plain old chicken egg.




I've tried so many combinations over the years but the following is at the top of my list. The use of a Catalan red wine sausage gives the omelette a deep flavor which undercuts the creaminess of the eggs but does not overpower the overall dish. The thyme with its earthy scent, the mushrooms and the onions complement each other and constitute this gorgeous, simple, flavorful, easy to do recipe that will have anyone tasting it licking their fingers and asking for more.

It's a perfect dish for brunch or lunch but S (my boyfriend) and I prefer having it for a light supper paired with a leafy salad and a whole-wheat baguette.




Omelette with Catalan red wine Sausage, Mushrooms, Onions and Thyme

If you're unable to find a Catalan red wine sausage, which is a pork sausage infused with red wine, you can certainly use any other type of sausage you like as long as it doesn't have an overwhelming taste. For example, chorizo is not a sausage for this dish.

Yield: 2 servings

Ingredients
4 medium free-range eggs
80 g Catalan red wine sausage, sliced
70 g small chestnut (cremini) mushrooms, sliced
1 small onion, sliced
1 Tbsp olive oil
1 tsp fresh thyme, chopped
Salt
Freshly ground white pepper

Preparation
In a small bowl crack the eggs open, add salt, pepper and thyme. Beat lightly with a fork.
Heat a large skillet, preferably non-stick, on medium-high heat and add the olive oil. Add the onions and sauté in the oil until they begin to soften.
Add the mushrooms and sauté for another minute. Once they're lightly cooked, add the sausage and stir it around until it gets coated with the oil and starts to release its own fat.
Pour the eggs over all the ingredients and shake the skillet so that the eggs spread evenly around the pan.
Lower the heat to medium-low and cook, lifting edges to let uncooked egg run underneath, for about 6-7 minutes or until set on the bottom and almost set but still moist on top.
Slide and fold the omelette onto a plate, sprinkle a little more thyme on top and serve immediately.