Paros Potatoes

Today marked the end of week one of this yoga retreat, and although we have begun by easing ourselves into things very gently, by the end of this morning’s practice we were all feeling ready to embrace the forthcoming rest day tomorrow.  Especially after Graeme’s special workout that he put us through yesterday afternoon - a routine which he has devised to help students develop the strength and fitness which will, in the long run, make our asana practice more effortless - at least that’s the theory anyway.

Of course, such hard work must always be balanced by a certain amount of fun and relaxation, so last night we had our weekly pot luck dinner.  A wonderful variety of dishes appeared, including:  a beautiful mixed salad, zucchini fritters, a torn bread salad (with caramelised onions, garlic and prosciutto), lentils, beetroot in a yoghurt sauce with toasted walnuts, hummus, rice with mushrooms and asparagus, and chicken cooked in a coconut milk and banana curry.  Needless to say, we had beautiful local Paros wines to wash it all down with, and for dessert we had big bowls of fresh apricots and cherries, as well as chocolate-dipped strawberries and Greek pastries.  For my own contribution to this feast I made a big bowl of these crispy paprika salted potatoes - so simple, it is a stretch to really call this a recipe;  however, they were such a huge success that I thought it would be rude not to share them with you as well.

I discovered in the local supermarket the other day this wonderful tin of paprika salt.  Now I would not ordinarily buy something like this - after all it doesn’t take much to mix a bit of salt and paprika together to make your own - but as soon as I lifted the lid of the tin to inspect, I was so captivated by the smell and the colour that I just couldn’t resist.  Besides, this is my idea of the perfect “souvenir” to take home as a reminder, for months to come, of this holiday.

Paros Potatoes Recipe

(Quantities here are not critical, this recipe is really just a guideline)

potatoes (Agria, if you can get them, are best)

olive oil (Greek, if you can get it)

paprika salt (or coarse sea salt and smoky paprika)

dried oregano

freshly ground black pepper

Peel potatoes, and cut into largish dice - about 2.5cm (1 inch).  Put potatoes into a pot and cover with cold salted water.  Set the pan over high heat and bring to the boil.  Boil for about 5 minutes - by this stage the potatoes should be just barely fork tender - not cooked through, but just starting to yield when poked with a fork.

Remove pan from the heat, drain potatoes into a colander or sieve, and shake really well to “rough” the potatoes up.  Set aside for half an hour or so to allow the potatoes to dry completely.

Pour olive oil into a large skillet - enough to completely cover the base of the pan to a depth of about .5cm (1/4 inch) - and set the skillet over high heat.  Once the oil is hot (test by carefully dipping a piece of potato into the oil - if it immediately starts to sizzle it is ready) add potatoes to the pan in a single layer.  You may have to cook them in several batches if you are doing a lot of potatoes.  As soon as you have added the potatoes to the pan, sprinkle over a little of the paprika salt (coarse sea salt and smoky paprika) and dried oregano.  Turn the potatoes over in the hot oil from time to time (depending on your element you may need to turn the heat down a little) and cook until they are golden brown all over, cooked through, and crispy on the outside.

Remove to a paper towel to drain, sprinkle again liberally with the paprika salt, dried oregano and freshly ground black pepper.  Keep warm while you cook the remaining batches.

Once all your potatoes are cooked, put them in a large serving bowl, toss them well to make sure all the potatoes are well coated with the spices.

Serve immediately and try not to be overwhelmed by the sighs of satisfaction from your guests.  One word of advice - bring these to the table last, for I can tell you this - the minute you put these on the table someone will not be able to resist sneaking one, and before you know it the bowl will be empty before you even finish bringing the rest of the dishes to the table.  As you will have already devoured several of these in the privacy of your kitchen as you’ve cooked, you should not be surprised by this!!

Mystery Food Photos - Random # 6

I do have a new photo for you this week - unfortunately no mystery since, if you can read Spanish (or actually, to be more precise, Catalan), you will know immediately what it is.  But before I come to that, I thought I would give you a bit of a round-up of all the mystery photos I have shared with you in case you missed any of them.

Photo # 1 - pistachios - photographed on the island of Paros, Greece

I think this was my favourite photo of them all, and this was the one that stumped all of you.

Photo # 2 - carob - again photographed on Paros

Some good guesses for this one, and Natalia at gatti fili e farina got it right.

Photo # 3 - gooseneck barnacles - photographed at La Boqueria market in Barcelona

This one really got your interest, and there was all sorts of wild and wonderful guessing going on, with one anonymous reader guessing that they were in fact barnacles.

Photo # 4 - liquorice (or licorice, depending on where you come from) root, again photographed at La Boqueria market

This one attracted lots of very good guesses, with even-star, Elizabeth and Alaskan Dave Down Under all getting it right.

Photo # 5 - razor clams - once again, photographed at La Boqueria market

Okay so you guys really know your clams - Natalia at gatti fili e farina, Joi, Heather at girlichef, Natashya at Living in the Kitchen with Puppies, Alex at A Moderate Life, and Rhonda all got this one right.  (Why not go and visit these great bloggers - they obviously know a thing or two about food!)

And now to today's photo.  I guess it won't come as any surprise to you that this was once again photographed at La Boqueria market in Barcelona.  Well, I make no apology for that - after all, you just don't see stuff like this at Peter Timbs Butchery in Edgeware!

As I said earlier, this is no mystery as such, since things are quite clearly labeled - but the real mystery to my is why on earth anyone would want to eat some of this.  Personally, I quite like a bit of offal (that is, liver and kidneys), and I get that it is truly honouring the animal which has given its life for your sustenance by eating every part of it, but I'm not ashamed to admit that there are just some things that I'm just a bit squeamish about.  In this photo are:  lambs' heads (on the left), bulls' testicles (centre front), bulls' gullets (on the right, directly behind the kidneys).  This vendor also usually has bulls' penises, but they were all out on the afternoon I was there (no doubt they're so popular they sell out of those by lunch time)!

I would love to know - which was your favourite photo in the series, and what food or animal body parts make you feel squeamish?

I really enjoyed bringing you all these photos, and I am immensely heartened by the interest that you all showed in this series.  Although some of these items are somewhat more exotic (and not necessarily available everywhere), it was a very salient reminder to me of how far removed from the source of our food we can become when we buy packaged ingredients at the supermarket.

I care passionately about eating food which, as much as possible, is made from scratch from natural ingredients;  food which is made slowly, with passion and with love;  food which is fresh and seasonal;  food which is prepared simply and not messed about with;  food made from ingredients you know, understand and can identify - not ingredients which have sesquipedalian (I sooo love that word) names you can't pronounce - really, who wants to eat calcium disodium ethylenediamintetraacetate (yummo!)?  That said, I'm not super woman - I don't have the time to spend in the kitchen that my grandmother may have done, so keeping it real means that I do take some shortcuts in the kitchen.  Whilst I like to make my own pasta on occasion, most of the time I buy store-bought, dried pasta.  Likewise bread - yes I do make my own sometimes, but mostly I buy a good artisan loaf from a local baker.  I like making my own jam, but can't be bothered too much with preserving so I use tinned tomatoes instead of bottling my own.  I often fall back on a jar of curry paste or tin of cannellini beans.  And I eat more than my fair share of ice cream and chocolate - both of which are health foods as far as I'm concerned.

A place where you'll find many like-minded souls, wonderful people who all share a similar food philosophy is the Hearth and Soul group.  Previously, known as the Two for Tuesdays blog hop, the group has had a name change and refocus of definition to better reflect what food means to its contributors. Why not hop over and see what it's all about.  I am contributing this post to the group, and you can see all of this week's contributions here.

Whitebait Fritters Recipe

Spring, at last, has officially come to New Zealand - not that one wishes one's life away, but I have longed for this day for the last two months.  I am just so not a winter person, and even though I did manage to escape the start of winter by spending a month in the Greek Islands, I have not faced the last two months with any kind of equanimity.  I've ached to be back on Paros (you may remember an earlier post), enjoying sun filled days and clear blue skies ...

... eating beautiful seafood and summery salads ...

... and relaxing and laughing with wonderful friends.

Meanwhile, back here in Christchurch, even though we have a way to go before we're really enjoying warmer weather, the days are at last getting longer and a bit more conducive to spending a bit of time outdoors.

(No that's not me in this photo)

In spring my heart feels lighter - to me it always seems to be a time of hopefulness, of renewal - the air holds such promise - and that sombreness that creeps into my soul in the winter seems to dissolve away.  I notice it in my yoga practice too - that lethargy that seeps into my bones during winter is starting to lift and I feel more vibrant and energetic.

And with the arrival of spring, the quintessential New Zealand spring dish simply has to be whitebait fritters.  New Zealand whitebait are much smaller than Chinese or British varieties, and have a sweet, delicate flavour.

Very strict regulations control the catching season and types of equipment used, making whitebait a prized delicacy and the most expensive fish in New Zealand (usually anywhere from $100-$150 kilo) - it pays to make good friends with someone who catches their own!  Although the season is relatively short here, whitebait do freeze well, so if you can get your hands on a good supply it's great to have a few kilos in the freezer to enjoy during summer and autumn.

When it comes to making whitebait fritters, I think people are pretty much divided into two camps.  First there is the more solid version - sort of a pattie which seems to have but a few whitebait dispersed through a firm batter with lots of flour in it - this is the method which seems to be largely favoured by West Coast cafes and fish & chip shops (where the ubiquitous whitebait sandwich is popular), mostly I think because they can be pre-cooked and reheated.  The alternative, is something altogether more delicate - a light, lacy fritter, packed full of whitebait, just barely held together with some beaten egg.  This is definitely my preference, and here is my recipe.

Whitebait Fritters Recipe

Makes about 12 large fritters

Click here for a printable copy of this recipe

500g whitebait

3 large free range eggs, lightly beaten

2 tablespoons flour

salt & pepper

neutral flavoured oil or butter

Sift flour into a bowl, then gradually add beaten egg a little at a time, stirring well after each addition, to get a nice smooth batter of pouring consistency.  Season with salt and pepper.  Wash whitebait well and add to batter.

Heat a little oil or butter in a skillet over medium-high heat.  Add spoonfuls of batter to the hot pan and cook until golden on both sides.  Remove and keep warm while you cook the remainder of the batter.

Serve on a large platter with lemon wedges.

I also served this with some plantain chips and a fresh green salad, and who could resist a good New Zealand sauvignon blanc with this?!

In the unlikely event that you find yourself with any leftovers, they are great the next day served cold on fresh ciabatta bread.

Blood Orange & Black Olive Salad Recipe

I'm ashamed to say that it's been a long time since I contributed to the I Heart Cooking Clubs group;  nevertheless, some of you may recall that the group is cooking with Mark Bittman, and our theme this week is Raw Foods.  I'll be honest - when I read that my heart sank.  Now that doesn't mean I have anything against raw foods - quite the opposite in fact - but here in New Zealand, in the middle of winter, our thoughts turn more readily to soups and stews right now.  And, let's face it, a lot of what's seasonal here right now doesn't exactly lend itself to being served up "in the raw", so to speak.  Raw kumara (sweet potato) or pumpkin?  I don't think so!

What's more, this idea seemed to just compound the battle already raging within over my food choices right now.  As I mentioned last week, having just come back from a month in Greece, I find myself constantly longing for the food which reminds me of that time - which was of course beautiful, light, fresh summer food.

 The salad in this photo is one that I made while on Paros of fried eggplant, rocket, green olives, lemon zest and a local cheese called Mizithra

I just cannot get excited right now about root vegetables and casseroles, things that normally I really enjoy when the season comes around.  So I have been trying in my cooking lately, as much as possible, to give my wintery food a bit of a summery twist or "tweek" it in some way that is reminiscent of the food I ate in Greece.  I think I succeeded reasonably well with the Dried Fruit Compote I posted last week - a compote of dried peaches, apricots, figs, cherries and prunes - same fruit that I had eaten almost daily on Paros, just given a different treatment.  I think I also captured some of that feeling in a warm salad I made during the week of steamed beetroot and brown lentils - I got my Greek fix, by tossing everything in a very lemony vinaigrette (sweetened ever so slightly with a little honey and spiked with dried oregano), then adding black olives, chunks of feta, and some roasted hazelnuts.

So the challenge then for me - make something raw, using seasonal ingredients, and which would also transport me back to Greece for a few glorious moments.  This orange and black olive salad fits the bill perfectly for me, and even though Mark Bittman was actually inspired to make this dish after a visit to the south of France, I could easily be in Greece.  You see I chose to use blood oranges, instead of the naval oranges that were called for in the original recipe, and just the gorgeous rosy-orange colour of those on the plate with the pile of black olive paste reminds me immediately of this beautiful Paros sunrise.

Now, I know you are waiting for me to just get on with the recipe, but before I do here is a little mystery food item for you.  Do you know what this is in the photo below?  Post your answer in the comment section - sorry I don't have a prize for getting it right, and I imagine for some of you out there it's a complete "no-brainer", but it was something I had never seen before.  Clue - unsurprisingly, I took this photo during my holiday in Greece...

Keep watching this space for next week's mystery food item.  Now, on with the recipe.

Blood Orange & Black Olive Salad

Adapted from Mark Bitman's

"Zucca's Orange and Olive Salad"

Vegetarian, gluten-free

Click here for a printable copy

1 cup of Kalamata olives (or any black olives you prefer)

olive oil (quantity will vary with type of olives used)

1x blood orange per person

thyme

fennel seeds

Begin by removing the seeds from the olives - please do yourself a favour and avoid already pitted olives.  This is very easy to do - simply place the olive on a hard surface such as a plate or board;  press firmly with your thumb (or if your olives are harder you can use the bottom of a cup or glass);  the olive will easily split open;  remove the seed and discard.

Put the pitted olives now into your food processor with about a teaspoon of olive oil and pulse a couple of times to roughly chop the olives.  Add a little more olive oil and keep pulsing till you have the desired consistency - take care not to turn this into complete "mush";  you want to keep a bit of texture to the paste.

Now to the oranges.  Grate the zest of one orange and set aside.  Then remove all the skin (including the white pith) from the oranges, and slice into thickish rounds.  Hint, do this on a plate so that you can collect all the juices which will come out of the oranges.

To serve, arrange orange slices on a plate and top with a dollop of the olive paste.  Drizzle with your best olive oil and some of the reserved orange juice.  Sprinkle with a few thyme leaves and fennel seeds and a little of the reserved orange zest.

Then sit back, close your eyes, and enjoy your Paros sunrise on a plate!

Remembering Paros & Dried Fruit Compote

No prizes for noticing that I haven't blogged for a couple of months - well, I've got a good excuse - well, for some of that time at least.  As many of you know, I have just had a wonderful trip to Europe, thus managing to escape a good chunk of this New Zealand winter.  Add to that a couple of weeks before I went away of being "too busy" to blog, and then coming home and taking a couple more weeks to get back into regular routines - you know how it goes - "I'll start blogging again tomorrow", but tomorrow keeps becoming the next day and the next day and so on.  Not being a natural writer, I have found it surprisingly difficult to get back into it - I know that once I sit down and just start to write, things will start to unfold, but somehow I have been a bit afraid to just sit down and get started, as though I don't know where to begin.  But anyway, enough excuses, here goes ...

So what exactly have I been doing while I was away?  I began my trip with several days in Barcelona (quite possibly my favourite city in the world, so far) - an opportunity to shop, to enjoy great food and make daily visits to La Boqueria market (absolute foodie heaven) (you can see more of my photos from La Boqueria here) ...

... to enjoy the cultural and artistic history of this wonderful city, including a visit to the Fundacio Joan Miro (a museum housing an extensive collection of the works of Joan Miro, one of my favourite artists) ...

... and, on my last evening in Barcelona, take in a cooking class at Cook & Taste.  As well as a tour of the market, we cooked a typical four course Catalan meal which included Chupito de Sopa de Tomate al Aroma de Idiazabal (shots of tomato soup flavoured with idiazabal smoked cheese), Tortilla de Patatas y Pan con Tomate (potato omelette with tomato bread), Paella de Marisco (seafood paella) and Crema Catalana (Catalan cream) - yes, I promise to share some of these recipes with you in the future.  The cooking school kitchen is lovely, and our tutor, Ignasius, was immensely knowledgeable and informative, as well as being very warm, friendly and entertaining.  The other students (mostly from the US, but surprisingly also another couple from New Zealand) were equally friendly and amusing.  In groups of 3 or 4 we all got a hands-on turn at cooking one of the courses, and then we all got to eat together the meal we had created.  The food was delicious, and there was plenty of good Spanish wine to wash it down with.  All in all, this was a wonderfully fitting way to end my stay in this beautiful city.

From Barcelona I travelled to Athens for a night, and then on to the island of Paros for a four week yoga intensive with Graeme and Leonie Northfield, which was the whole purpose of my trip.  It is almost impossible to put into words what a deeply profound experience this was, and I am not even going to try.

I can, however, tell you this.  I have been privileged to have Graeme and Leonie as my teachers for several years now.  I appreciate enormously the vast amount of experience they each have, and the knowledge and wisdom that they bring to their teaching.  I appreciate their passion for teaching students to develop a practice which is both safe and which will endure.  I am grateful for the wise and intuitive way in which they have guided my practice, helping me through injuries, and encouraging and leading me forward when the time is right.  Most of all, I'm incredibly grateful for their warmth, love and compassion.  And they're also good fun ...

I'm also incredibly grateful to have had the opportunity to practice with some of the most wonderful people I have ever had the privilege to meet, and who I now feel I can call friends.  Fellow students who, despite coming together as strangers, opened their hearts and without reservation offered love and support for each other when it was needed.  I could not help but feel very humbled.

But, enough, I know you just want me to get right to the food!  The first thing I can tell you is that the Greeks really, really know how to do vegetables and this is a great place to dine out for a vegetarian.  All the cafes and tavernas I dined in had probably at least 20 vegetable dishes to choose from, and then several salads as well.  Everything was fresh, in season, and simply but deliciously prepared - nothing "chefy" about this, just really simple, honest food bursting with flavour - special favourites were peppers and tomatoes stuffed with rice, wild greens simply steamed and served with loads of lemon juice and black pepper, artichoke hearts braised with broad beans, courgette fritters (I think these were everyone's favourites), and aubergines Imam (cooked in lots of olive oil and filled with tomatoes and feta).  Of course no meal is complete without the ubiquitous Greek salad - we managed to have these on an almost daily basis without ever tiring of them.

We had regular group pot luck dinners - always celebratory affairs, with beautiful food, plenty of local wine, and of course much laughter.

We dined in beautiful tavernas so close to the water's edge that the fish could have almost jumped onto our plates - of course you nearly have to take out a mortgage to pay for the fish here!  As fish stocks in the Mediterranean diminish, so the prices seem to escalate.  From what I observed fish seemed to be usually served whole in restaurants, rather than by the fillet, and accordingly are charged by the kilo, with prices starting at 55Euros per kilo (that's NZ$110 per kilo - yes you are reading that right) and going up to around 110Euros per kilo (NZ$220 - gulp)!  So if you're planning to eat seafood here, expect to have to really cut a lot of moths loose from your wallet.  On the other hand, if you are happy to eat a little further down the food chain, you'll do yourself and the planet a favour.  Seafood such as sardines and calamari are plentiful and sustainable, as well as tasting great -you could eat a beautiful dish of grilled sardines or calamari for around 7Euros a plate.

Although I have never been that much of a breakfast person, it was in fact breakfast that became my favourite meal of every day.  As is so often the case, good food for me is as much about connecting with others as it is about what's on your plate.  It became our morning ritual, having finished our yoga practice, to enjoy a refreshing swim, after which everyone would disappear to their rooms to prepare their breakfast, emerging a little while later to eat breakfast together in the garden - usually a bowl of thick, luscious Greek yoghurt;  a mountain of fresh fruit (peaches, apricots, melons, cherries, strawberries were all very abundant);  a drizzle of local honey and some nuts.  It was fun each morning to peer into each other's bowls and see what assortment everyone had come up with.  Breakfast was a leisurely affair - usually a couple of hours when we would sit and talk, laugh, occasionally cry - a time to share and support, and a time to plan the rest of the day - should we have a sleep first and then go to town for a coffee, or maybe go for coffee first and then sleep? - or maybe an excursion to the supermarket to get some ingredients for one of our potluck dinners is in order.  Oh the tough decisions you have to make when you're on holiday!

Since I've returned home, I've found myself still needing to have my "Greek breakfast" and contemplate my day at a leisurely pace.  I have never before been much of a yoghurt lover - I often use it as an ingredient, but seldom eat it straight.  Oh, how my head has been turned since eating real Greek yoghurt!  You can buy a variety of "Greek style" yoghurts here, but they're not quite the same - you can, however, almost approximate it:  firstly, line a seive with a paper towel;  at least 3 hours before you want to eat it (overnight is ideal) spoon a serving of yoghurt into the paper towel;  set over a bowl (in the fridge) to drain.  That solves the yoghurt issue, but what about the fruit?  In the depths of winter here stone fruit, berries and melon are simply not an option.  Yes, I guess you could have a selection of apples, oranges and pears - but, I'm sorry, they just don't do it for me.  Although they are all fruits that I like to use in salads and sometimes even in desserts, but just as fruits for their own sake - no, not for me - I am without question a summer fruits girl.  My solution is a dried fruit compote - full of peaches, apricots, figs, cherries and prunes, infused with lemon, vanilla and star anise, in a syrup thick with honey (for a New Zealand twist I used manuka honey) - topped off with a sprinkling of chopped pistachio nuts, I ended up with a breakfast that even in the depths of the New Zealand winter transports me back to Paros everyday, and helps me to to still feel connected to new found friends at far flung corners of the world.

And, of course, I strongly recommend good coffee on the side!

Dried Fruit Compote Recipe

Makes 6-8 generous servings

Click here for a printable copy of this recipe

There are no precise quantities required here - those given are approximate and should be adjusted to suit your personal taste

4-6 cups of dried fruit, whatever you like

I used approximately one cup each of dried peaches, apricots, figs, cherries and prunes

I also left all of my fruit whole, but if you like little pieces by all means go ahead and chop

For the syrup:

2 cups of cold water

1/2 cup brown sugar

1/3 cup honey (I used Manuka)

1 vanilla bean

2 star anise

3-4 strips of lemon peel (or orange would also be good)

To serve:

Greek-style yoghurt

chopped pistachios

Put the cold water, sugar and honey into a medium sized saucepan.  Split the vanilla pod lengthwise, scrape out the seeds, then add the seeds and the pod to the pan, along with the star anise and the strips of peel.

Set the pan over medium heat and stir until the sugar and honey has dissolved and the syrup begins to simmer.  Allow to simmer for about 5 minutes, then add all of the fruit to the pan.  Allow to simmer gently over low heat until the fruit is just soft - around 15 minutes.

Remove fruit from the pan to a bowl, then continue to simmer the liquid for a few more minutes until it has a thick, syrupy consistency.

Remove pan from the heat and pour the syrup over the fruit.  Cool completely and refrigerate overnight.  (Of course you could eat this straight away, but I think leaving all the fruit to steep in the syrup overnight really allows all the flavours to develop and mellow out).

To serve - put a generous dollop of Greek-style yoghurt in the bottom of a bowl and drizzle generously with some of the syrup.  Place a good serving of the fruit over the top and finish with a sprinkling of chopped pistachios.

Kali Orexi!