Sabtu, 10 Desember 2011

Sofigado, the Greek sweet and sour beef stew

There are some fruits that have an instant allure, a certain something that attracts your senses either by the way they smell, the way they look or even by the way they feel when you touch them. Strawberries, cherries and persimmons are such fruit.






And then there are other fruits, the "ugly" ones, those that don't have much going for them at first glance. You need to get to know them in order to appreciate what they can really do for you or for one of your dishes. Such fruits are quinces.






Unassuming, rather unappealing fruit that can become so much more just by adding some sugar to them and boiling them, thus creating the amazing quince paste, or by sautéing them in lots of butter to accompany a steak, or caramelizing them and serving them with a winter ice cream. But where they actually shine is in dishes like this one, a traditional Greek island dish called Sofigado.






This dish comes from the beautiful, green island of Lefkada located in the Ionian Sea, off the west coast of Greece. Sofigado is a rich, sweet and sour beef stew with quinces and petimezi (grape-must syrup) and its history, much like Pastitsada's, is rooted in the times of Venetian occupation.






It's a pretty straightforward winter stew but with extraordinary flavors and some unique ingredients. As it always happens in Greek cooking, it all starts with olive oil and onions. Lots of onions which, after the meat has been browned in the oil, are sautéed until soft and translucent. Then the meat goes back in the pan and garlic, tomato paste, red wine vinegar and fresh rosemary are introduced to the mix.






The beef is stewed until succulent and then the quinces are added, as well as the petimezi. I have my friend Kiki to thank for a bottle of fresh petimezi that she sent me a couple of months ago (as she did last year, which back then gave me the chance to make Greek moustokouloura cookies). Thanks Kiki!






After twenty minutes or so, when the quinces have softened but still retain their crunch, when the petimezi has permeated the meat and a rich sauce has been created, the stew is ready. Ready to be savored. You'll rarely find such a combination of sweet and sour flavors in traditional Greek cooking, especially when it comes to beef dishes.






The experience of tasting Sofigado resembles that of a rollercoaster. The sweet flavor of the petimezi and quince, reminiscent of the spoon sweets that Greek grandmothers make, hits you first and then the sourness of the fruit becomes the prominent flavor. The umami-ness of the meat comes to balance out all the flavors and the ride goes on and on until you suddenly end up with an empty plate, asking for more.











Sofigado Lefkaditiko (Greek Beef Stew with Quinces and Grape-Must Syrup from Lefkada)

Sofigado can be enjoyed by the whole family as an everyday meal but is also elegant enough to become part of a festive holiday meal or a dinner party.

You can accompany it with rice or mashed potatoes for a festive or special meal, and with French fries or a big green salad for an everyday meal.
You can either use beef or veal in this dish.
For those of you living in The Netherlands, the meat you should use is runderriblap.

In traditional Greek cuisine, onions are usually grated in a box grater rather than chopped. This gives a different texture to the resulting sauces, making them thicker and richer. If you can't bother grating the onions in this recipe, you can whiz them in the food processor until they are almost puréed.

The beauty of this dish is in its sweet and sour flavors and contrasting textures of tender, succulent beef in a rich sauce and juicy, soft yet firm quinces.
The more ripe and fragrant the quinces, the better they are for this dish. If they're not ripe, their taste will be too sour, but don't worry, you can rectify that by adding extra petimezi at the end.

You can find petimezi (grape-must syrup / grape molasses) in Greek or Middle Eastern stores.






Yield: 4-6 main-course servings

Ingredients
1 - 1.2 kg boneless beef stewing steak like chuck steak
120 ml good quality olive oil
2 medium-sized red onions (about 250 g), grated
40 ml red-wine vinegar
7 medium-sized garlic cloves, peeled
1 Tbsp tomato paste
Freshly ground black pepper
2 fresh sprigs of rosemary
Pinch of sugar
330-350 ml hot water
Salt
3 large quinces (1 - 1.1 kg), peeled and cut into wedges
100 ml petimezi (grape-must syrup / grape molasses)

Special equipment: pan or Dutch oven with a 5 - 5.5 liter capacity, box grater or food processor


Preparation
Take the meat and cut with a knife the large pieces of fat off, leaving a fair amount of fat on in order to flavor the dish. Cut the meat into pieces, about 6x6 cm each. Place them on paper towels and pat them dry. This is an important step because the meat will not brown properly if it's damp.

In a large, deep, heavy-bottomed pan or preferably in a Dutch oven, add the olive oil and heat over medium-high heat. When it starts to shimmer, add enough beef pieces to cover 2/3 of the bottom of the pan (do not overcrowd the pan because the beef will boil rather than brown) and brown the pieces on both sides. Remove pieces from the pan and place them in a bowl. Brown the rest of the beef pieces in the same manner and place them in the bowl.


Add the grated onions to the pan and sauté them on medium heat for about 4 minutes until they soften and become translucent. Return the browned beef pieces to the pan, along with the juices accumulated in the bowl you kept them in, and add the red-wine vinegar. Stir well with a spatula or spoon and add the garlic cloves, tomato paste, freshly ground black pepper, rosemary sprigs and a pinch of sugar and stir well. Add the hot water (hot so the cooking process won't stop) and stir well. Put the lid on and let it come to the boil. Then turn the heat down to the lowest setting and let the meat stew for 1 - 1 ½ hours or until it is tender (keep in mind though that it'll cook for a further 25 minutes when you add the quinces). Check the meat every 20 minutes or so, stirring it around a bit.

Then, remove the rosemary sprigs (the leaves would have fallen in the sauce) and add salt. The reason you're adding the salt now is because if you add it at the beginning of the cooking process, the beef will become tough and chewy. Add the quinces and the petimezi to the pan and stir well with a spatula or spoon. The quinces must be almost covered with liquid in order to cook, so if there's not enough liquid in your pan, add a bit of hot water. Put the lid back on and allow beef and quinces to simmer for about 25 minutes, stirring every now and then (not with a spatula or spoon, but by holding the pan by its handles and moving it around in circular motions so that everything gets stirred. You're doing that so that you don't break up the quinces. You don't want them to disintegrate into the sauce. They must remain in whole wedges and not become mushy).
Check the quinces after 15 minutes. It's good to taste them at this point and if they're too sour, you can add a little more petimezi to the pan.

You should end up with tender beef in a rich sauce and soft but not mushy quinces. They should hold their form and add texture to the dish.

Serve hot with your favorite accompaniment and make sure to have lots of bread on the table for dipping it in that delicious sauce.

Sofigado tastes even better the second day.






Minggu, 04 Desember 2011

All I need *

It's strange what I miss being away from home. Besides my family and friends, what I miss the most are the small things. The way the sun shines gloriously in Greece, the way the rain smells when it hits the rocky hills of Athens, the way the sea glistens under the moonlight at Batis beach.






It's the small things in food, too. I miss our sardines and anchovies, they taste like nothing else in the world, my favorite feta, aged in large wooden barrels, that I buy from a shop in my neighborhood, and Miranda biscuits, which I crave when it's really cold outside and all I want is to drink a hot cup of cocoa.






Sure, Holland is famous for its cookies and pastries, but nothing beats Greek Miranda cereal biscuits. When I was little, my mom would make for my brother and me her famous hot cocoa, always with Van Houten, and she'd give us a box of Mirandas. We would use the hot cocoa as a dip, dunking the rectangle-sized biscuits in it, allowing them to soften and then devouring them in one huge bite.






When my mom visited me this past August, among the numerous foodstuff she brought with her, she also brought me Mirandas. Needless to say, I was ecstatic when I saw her taking the boxes of biscuits out of her overstuffed suitcase. My instinct, even if we were in the middle of a heat wave, was to immediately go into the kitchen and make myself a hot cocoa, or better yet, a hot chocolate. And so I did.






I may still be trying to find a recipe for making these Miranda biscuits (and if anyone knows, please share) but I have already found the recipe for my ideal hot chocolate. Not cocoa, chocolate. That's the best.






There's something about pure, dark chocolate melting into hot, steaming milk that gets my taste buds all tingly and excited. When the smell penetrates my nostrils, I'm filled with anticipation for the hot, dark, liquid gold. There's just nothing like it.






Seventy percent chocolate, whole milk, and my secret ingredient, kaimaki (or kaymak). No need for heavy or whipped cream when there's something like kaimaki around, with its rich, creamy texture, to give the hot chocolate that extra-velvety consistency. One tablespoon is enough to make a difference.






Tackling the heavy Dutch winters is not an easy thing. A cup of this hot chocolate drink and a boxful of my favorite biscuits, is all I really need to make it just a little bit easier.






* The writing of this post was accompanied by the music of Air and especially by this song.






Hot Chocolate

I always use 70% chocolate for this drink and of course, the better the quality of the chocolate, the better the quality of the drink. As I always say where chocolate is concerned, make sure you use one whose taste you really like, otherwise you're not going to enjoy the flavor of the drink.

In case you can't find kaimaki where you live (try Middle Eastern stores), you can substitute with clotted cream, crème fraîche or even whipped cream (but it's not going to be the same).

And if you prefer hot cocoa rather than hot chocolate, check this out.






Yield: 2 large (or 4 small) cups

Ingredients
500 ml whole milk
100 g good quality chocolate, 70% (I use Lindt), plus some extra shavings for sprinkling on top
1 Tbsp sugar (or to taste, depending on how sweet you like your chocolate)
2 Tbsp fresh kaimaki


Preparation
Chop the chocolate into small pieces.


In a small saucepan, add the milk and heat over medium heat. When it starts to steam, add the chopped chocolate and stir with a whisk. When the chocolate has melted, add the sugar and stir to dissolve. Don't allow the milk to boil.
Turn the heat off and beat the hot chocolate well with the whisk, in order to create a light foam. Pour immediately into two large cups, add a tablespoon of kaimaki on each cup and sprinkle some chocolate shavings on top.

Enjoy with your favorite biscuits!






Senin, 28 November 2011

Inspiration






Yes, this is a food blog, but there are so many things that inspire me, that I can't help but wanting to share them with you.

Who knows, perhaps this will be a regular thing around here.
Tell me what you think!


I believe I have told you what a huge Woody Allen fan I am. This latest documentary on PBS about his life and work, left me even more impressed by this multitalented man and legendary filmmaker. I lurve Woody.

This is what you get when a prima ballerina, wearing ethereal clothes by Chloé, dances to music by Philip Glass.

Ashley Rodriguez's video on how to make a gradient cake with rolled fondant. She makes it look so easy. (Ashley writes the wonderful food blog Not Without Salt).

Have you ever considered dining in the sky?

I love creative couples, and iconic Dutch fashion photographer duo Inez van Lamsweerde and Vinoodh Matadin, are a fascinating one. The music video for Bjork's Moon, from her latest album Biophilia, is the perfect combination of their imaginative visual creativity and Bjork's evocative musical talent.

I'm not at all good at DIY stuff but this I have to try; how to make your own distressed wood background for photographs.

This and this are my favorite television series of late.

Mikkel Adsbøl is a Danish food photographer. Check out his work. His photographs are stunning.


See you soon with a recipe!


Sabtu, 26 November 2011

Two Years






I can't believe it's been two years since I wrote these words.


Thank you all from the bottom of my heart for joining me on this creative gastronomic adventure.



We've only just began!



Rabu, 23 November 2011

The second mode

I have two cooking modes. The fancy, "over-achieving" mode in which I make everything from scratch, and the quick and easy cooking mode, aka the I'm-too-tired-to-cook-anything-but-pasta mode.






The first mode is the one I get into when I have a lot of time on my hands, a lot of energy and a whole lot of patience. It is during such days that I feel like I can conquer the world with my cooking, and I create dishes like Greek feta-filled breads and small hand pies, or desserts like saragli and bars of chocolate dulce de leche with shortbread crust.






The second mode is my everyday mode. It's the mode I get into when I come home from a busy day, and can't or won't cook anything that takes more than half an hour to prepare. Those days are usually salad, pasta or grilled chicken days.






Yet, this type of cooking for me, need not be uninspired. The outcome doesn't have to be a boring plate of food. See, I love my food and dinnertime is special for S and me. It's our time; when we catch up on our day, when we have the chance to unwind over a glass of wine, enjoy a plate of good food and feel that we are doing something special, even if we're staying in.






Dishes like this one are meant for such evenings. A plate of pasta that is easy and quick to prepare, but that is also elegant and deeply flavorful. Spaghettini with mushrooms, olive oil and garlic.






There's something really comforting and relaxing in the idea that you can make a plate of scrumptious food in less than half an hour. And there's no need to be fussy over the ingredients. Choose your favorite pasta, it doesn't have to be spaghettini, some mushrooms, from the fancy chanterelles to the common button, any kind you have on hand will do, even dried ones that if you give them some time in warm water they'll do wonders for the dish, some good olive oil, garlic and cheese—parmesan, pecorino, kefalotyri—, anything with a tang and a strong umami flavor to match the meatiness of the earthy mushrooms.






And, if your day has been particularly challenging, then play your favorite music in the background, serve the pasta in your most beautiful plates, have a glass of wine and toast to the small, everyday pleasures and to the simple things that bring you joy.












Spaghettini with Mushrooms, Olive Oil and Garlic

The "sauce" for this dish is created by adding wine to the sautéed mushrooms and a little pasta water (water that the pasta has been boiled in) if needed at the end.
I used a white Bordeaux to liven up the dish but you can also use a Sauvignon Blanc.

Don't skip adding the parsley on top. It's not a garnish; it really brings a freshness and vibrancy to the dish.
I also love this dish with pappardelle, tagliatelle or spaghetti.

Serve the pasta with a simple green salad tossed with olive oil and a dash of balsamic vinegar, and have the cheese on hand at the table for further grating on top of the pasta. I always need more cheese on my spaghettini.






Yield: 2 servings

Ingredients
200-250 g spaghettini
3 Tbsp plus 1 Tbsp extra-virgin olive oil
1 medium-sized garlic clove, finely minced
100 g button mushrooms, sliced
50 ml white wine
Salt
Freshly ground black pepper
A handful of fresh parsley leaves, finely chopped
Parmesan cheese, for grating on top of the pasta

Special equipment: grater, colander


Preparation
In a medium-sized skillet, heat the 3 Tbsp of olive oil over medium-high heat and add the garlic. Turn heat down to medium and sauté for 30 seconds, being careful not to burn the garlic. Add the sliced mushrooms along with some salt and pepper and sauté for 2-3 minutes. Add the wine and cook for a further 2 minutes. You don't want all the juices from the mushrooms and wine to evaporate. You need them in order to make up the "sauce".

In the meantime, prepare the pasta. Bring a large pot of water to the boil over high heat and add the salt, followed by the spaghetti. Cook until al dente (firm but not very hard), or cook to your liking. Be careful though, spaghettini cook very quickly because they're very thin pasta.
Reserve 60 ml (1/4 cup) of the pasta water and drain the spaghettini in a colander (but don't shake the pasta), discarding the rest of the water. Return pasta to the pot and add the mushrooms, making sure you scrape every last drop of the liquid out of the skillet and into the pot. The starch from the pasta will create a light "sauce".
Mix well with a large fork or a pasta fork, add the 1 Tbsp of olive oil, and if you find the pasta to be too dry for your liking, add some, or all, of the 60 ml of pasta water you reserved earlier.
Toss pasta well and serve while it's hot on two dishes.
Sprinkle with some finely chopped parsley and grate a generous amount of parmesan on top.






Senin, 14 November 2011

Dutch apple pie

After four years of living in Holland, after four years of speaking just basic Dutch, the decision was made. S and I started taking Dutch language lessons. Better late than never.






It's not hard to get by in Holland with only English, at least in cities with an international character like Amsterdam, Rotterdam and The Hague, where we live. Most people speak English and unless your work demands it, you don't have to learn Dutch. Besides, it's a difficult language.






But now is the time for us to learn it. Perhaps because we're tired of not understanding what's been said on the news about Greece (especially during these past months), perhaps because we want to be able to socialize more with Dutch people rather than only with other expats from Europe or elsewhere, or maybe because we realized that with everything that's been happening in Greece, we are better off living in Holland.






Thoughts of moving back to Greece no longer cross our minds, at least not until further notice. That is until we are able to find a decent job there without having to kiss someone's ass, until we are not obligated to bribe a doctor to take care of us when are in need of his services, until the thought of starting a family in Greece doesn't scare us to death, until people start reading history and stop voting the way they have been voting for the past couple of decades, until we can live with dignity and feel that we have a future in our own country, until, anyway, all the things that made us leave our home in the first place four years ago, actually change.
But I digress.






I may have only just started learning the Dutch language properly, but I have already managed to delve into Dutch cuisine. Granted, it's not the most celebrated cuisine in the world nor is it exceptionally imaginative or unique, but it has some very good characteristics, especially in the baking/pastry department.






Case in point, the Dutch apple pie (Hollandse Appeltaart), Holland's magnificent national pastry. It dates as far back as the Middle Ages and it is said that during that time, because ovens with temperature control didn't exist, baking time was measured by the number of prayers a person had to say until the pie was ready.






The Hollandse appeltaart is displayed in the windows of every café, bar and bakery in Holland. It is famous the world over and the Dutch are very proud of their sweet, apple creation. Quite rightly so, I'd say. Even though I'm not a fan of fruit pies and tarts, I must confess that this apple pie is amazing.






It differs from apple pies from other countries in many respects, mainly in that the filling contains raisins, cinnamon and lemon juice and that the crust is not your basic tart crust, but one reminiscent of Pasta Frola (or Pasta Flora as we call it in Greece), which is something between pâte brisée and cake.






You line the bottom and the sides of a spring-form pan with the dough, which is a cinch to make, and then you fill it with small pieces of apple that have been mixed with raisins, sugar, cinnamon and lemon juice. Thin, round strips of dough are latticed on top, decorating the pie, but leaving the apples still visible underneath. The pie goes in the oven and when it comes out, it is brushed with an apricot glaze, which gives it a beautiful shine.






It is eaten preferably warm, straight out of the oven, and is always served with whipped cream or vanilla ice cream. The Dutch apple pie is not very sweet, since it doesn't contain much sugar and the apples used in the filling are of a tart variety, and it has a very unique flavor.






As expected, the apple flavor is prominent yet it is accompanied by small taste explosions of juicy, sweet raisins. The cinnamon complements the fruit perfectly and the crust is crumbly and at the same time soft and light. If you want to get a real taste of Holland, then all you have to do is make this Dutch apple pie.










Dutch Apple Pie - Hollandse Appeltaart
Adapted from Dutch Cooking

Traditionally, this apple pie is made with a Dutch variety of apples called Goudrenet, which is a tart (but not too much) apple. If you can't find those, use Granny Smith apples or any other kind of tart apple. Be careful though, you don't want to use apples that are too tart, otherwise you'll end up with a sour-tasting apple pie.





Yield: 1 apple pie / 8-10 pieces

Ingredients

for the filling
1 kg tart apples, like Goudrenet (which I used) or Granny Smith
Juice of 1 medium-sized lemon, freshly squeezed
70 g caster sugar
2 tsp ground cinnamon
50 g raisins (I used sultanas)

for the dough
175 g unsalted butter, at room temperature, plus extra for greasing the pan
175 g all-purpose flour
175 g self-raising flour
175 g caster sugar
1 large egg
½ tsp lemon zest, freshly grated
1 Tbsp water
Pinch of salt

1 Tbsp dried breadcrumbs

for the glaze
70 g apricot jam
30 ml (2 Tbsp) white rum (or water)

Whipped cream or vanilla ice cream for serving
Ground cinnamon for sprinkling over the top

Special equipment: 22 cm spring-form pan (7 cm deep), fine sieve, stand or hand-held mixer, pastry brush


Preparation
Put the raisins in a small bowl along with a cup of hot water and let them soak for 15 minutes.

Prepare the filling
In the meantime, in a large bowl, add the lemon juice. Start peeling, coring and cutting the apples into small pieces, placing them in the bowl as you go. Stir them around in the lemon juice every once in a while, so that they don't discolor.
Drain the raisins, squeeze them with your hands and add them to the bowl along with the sugar and cinnamon. Mix well with a wooden spoon or spatula. Set bowl aside.


Butter the bottom and sides of your spring-form pan generously.

Preheat your oven to 180-185 degrees Celsius.

Prepare the dough
In the bowl of a stand mixer (or in a large bowl), beat the butter on medium speed with the paddle attachment (or with your hand-held mixer), until softened and creamy, for 1-2 minutes. Sift all-purpose and self-raising flour directly into the bowl and add the sugar, salt, lemon zest, water and the egg. Mix all the ingredients with your hands and knead until you have a smooth, shiny, soft yet pliable dough that's not sticking to your hands. It will come together very quickly and easily. If it's too dry, add a teaspoon of water and if it's sticky, add a little bit of all-purpose flour.


Cut off a third of the dough and leave it aside.
Take the rest of the dough, shape it into a ball and place it in the middle of the spring-form pan. Using the back of your hand, press the dough over the bottom and up the sides of the pan. The dough should come up to 2/3 of the height of the pan. Try to spread the dough as evenly as possible.
Sprinkle the base of the pastry case with the dried breadcrumbs, which are used to soak up the juices from the apples, so that the base doesn't become soggy.
Mix the filling once more with a spoon or spatula and empty it into the pan. It should fill the whole pastry case.

Take the piece of dough you left aside and divide it into smaller pieces. Roll each piece into long, thin round strips and use them to decorate the tart, lattice style. See photos below.


Place the pan on the middle rack of the oven and bake for 45-50 minutes, until the crust takes on a golden-brown color.

Prepare apricot glaze
Ten minutes before the pie is ready, prepare the glaze by putting the apricot jam and the rum (or water) in a small saucepan. Heat the jam over medium heat, until it comes to the boil and then immediately remove from the heat.

When the apple pie is ready, take it out of the oven and immediately glaze it, using a pastry brush. Allow the pie to slightly cool inside the pan and then remove the sides of the pan. Allow to cool completely and if you want, move the pie onto a platter or cake stand.


The pie is eaten either warm or at room temperature. Serve with a dollop or two of whipped cream or a scoop of vanilla ice cream, and sprinkled with a little ground cinnamon.

It is best eaten the day you make it, as well as the following day.
It can be kept at room temperature, covered, for 2 days (3 tops) but as the days pass, the crust will become softer and more cake-like.