Cypriana E-Book

Theo A. Michaels

• Herausgeber: Ryland Peters & Small
• Kategorie: Lebensstil
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Beschreibung

Over 80 modern recipes inspired by the traditional cooking of Greece and Cyprus from popular chef and TV personality Theo Michaels.Fresh ingredients sing from the plate, from juicy watermelon and glossy kalamata olives, to fragrant oregano-roasted lamb and delicate fish wrapped in vine leaves.Presenting a feast for the eyes as well as the tastebuds, fresh and delicious recipes are organized into chapters entitled Meze, Sea, Land, Sun, Fire and Sundowners, evoking the Greek way of life.Meze features mouth-watering small plates for sharing from creamy whipped dips to meatballs. The sea is woven into Greek culture and seafood is a staple; enjoy the freshest fish and shellfish cooked simply and served with a squeeze of lemon juice. Meat is a huge part of the Greek diet and cooking over charcoal is part of daily life. Traditions of 'horta' means there are plenty of vegetable dishes to enjoy. Finally, Greek desserts are often just a sweet note to savour with a bitter black coffee or come sundown you may prefer a Greek-inspired cocktail such as an Ouzo Sour. This is an updated and expanded new edition of Orexi! featuring 8 new recipes.

Leseprobe

CYPRIANA

CYPRIANA

Vibrant recipes inspired by the food of Greece & Cyprus

THEO A. MICHAELS

photography by Mowie Kay

Dedication

For my yiayias and papous

Senior Designers Megan Smith and Sonya Nathoo

Editors Julia Charles and Kate Reeves-Brown

Production Manager Gordana Simakovic

Creative Director Leslie Harrington

Editorial Director Julia Charles

Food Stylist Kathy Kordalis

Prop Stylists Tony Hutchinson and Lauren Miller

Jacket Illustration Jason Brooks

Interior Illustrations Colin Elgie

Indexer Cathy Heath

Greek translations Myrsini Psalidaki

First published in 2019 titled Orexi!

This updated and expanded edition

published in 2024 by Ryland Peters & Small

20–21 Jockey’s Fields

London WC1R 4BW

and

341 E 116th St

New York NY 10029

www.rylandpeters.com

Text © Theo A. Michaels 2019, 2024.

Design and commissioned photographs © Ryland Peters & Small 2019, 2024. See page 208 for full picture credits.

ISBN: 978-1-78879-601-9

E-ISBN: 978-1-78879-631-6

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

The author’s moral rights have been asserted. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher.

Printed and bound in China.

CIP data from the Library of Congress has been applied for.

A CIP record for this book is available from the British Library.

Important Notes for Cooks

* Extra-virgin olive oil is the highest quality oil. It is unrefined, contains antioxidants and anti-inflammatories and has a low smoke point and heightened flavour. It is best used for dressings and drizzles. Refined olive oil is milder in flavour and contains less health benefits but its higher smoke point makes it good for cooking. I use Aloades olive oil from a family owned business in Cyprus.

* Both British (metric) and American (imperial plus US cups) are included in these recipes; however, it is important to work with one set of measurements and not alternate between the two.

CONTENTS

EAT LIKE A GREEK

YOGURT & PITA

Yiaourti kai pita

MEZE

Meze

SEA

Thalassa

LAND

Gi

SUN

Ilios

FIRE

Fotia

SUNDOWNERS

Dysi iliou

INDEX

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS & PICTURE CREDITS

EAT LIKE A GREEK

In the following pages you’ll discover Greek and Cypriot-inspired recipes. Some are born out of childhood memories, others from professional kitchens, more than a few stem from an urgent need to whip up something fast to feed a rabble of hungry kids, and others from those precious lazy weekends when cooking for friends and family is as therapeutic as it is fun. This book contains, and I quote, ‘the best Greek recipes ever written in the history of Greek cuisine’ (thanks Mum). Many of the dishes may, of course, be familiar to lovers of Greek food, while others are my own new creations. Some recipes are inspired by simple village food rarely experienced outside the Greek community, others are creations that my own family cook; not found in a Greek taverna but frequently present on our kitchen table.

The Greek diet is regarded as one of the healthiest in the world, largely due to the high content of vegetables, fruit, grains, pulses, seafood, olive oil and also fermented dairy foods like live yogurt and feta cheese, but I think eating like a Greek is more than that – it is a life philosophy. It’s about maintaining a balanced way of eating and living that is sustainable and not adhering to the concept of a prescribed ‘diet’. Too much of anything isn’t good but not enough of some foods is just as bad. I’ve never liked the idea of a diet full of rules. I find no love or sensuality in that and, quite frankly, it strips away all the pleasure of eating for me. My own food philosophy originates from village life. My mother grew up in Cyprus and her family grew most of their own produce as their main source of sustenance; leeks, pulses, chard, beetroot, potatoes, tomatoes, cucumbers, figs, dates and so on. They also kept a small number of livestock; pigeons, rabbits, even the odd turkey. They ate meat in moderation, maybe once a week, usually on a Sunday and even then it was mostly chicken. At the time, this way of living was simply born out of necessity; eating what you cultivated was frugality at its best and provided the means to feed a family. Things have changed a lot in Cyprus since then with the abundance of processed foods and use of agricultural chemicals, but ironically, a couple of generations later back in the UK and I’m trying to eat and feed my family with organic, local and sustainable produce as if it’s a new idea.

And what actually is Greek food? What makes something Greek? Contrary to popular belief, just adding feta to something doesn’t cut it (see page 114 for me just adding feta to make something Greek...). But is Greek food simply defined by its ingredients? For sure, there are a handful of foods that are exclusive plus there are specific dishes like saganaki and kleftiko but the headline flavours of lemon, thyme, oregano and olive oil that lace so many of our dishes and are indigenous to the land aren’t exclusive to us (albeit they are the world’s best, I’m just saying...). Other ingredients like pasta and rice may be associated more with Italy or China but have been used in Greek and Cypriot cuisine for centuries. Every nation that has ever been invaded has been left with an indelible mark on its culture and cuisine. Ingredients and seasonings from all around the globe are now available in every ‘world food’ aisle in your supermarket and previously unknown cooking methods have been popularized, meaning the food we all eat is constantly evolving. Right now, incredibly talented Greek and Cypriot chefs are pushing the boundaries of what we define as Greek cuisine today, but it most likely won’t be how we define it 100 years from now. And nor should it be.

Personally, I believe the heritage of Greek food is not simply about the ingredients, but is a combination of the people, their lands and history and the adaptability of a nation that are all bound by an unbroken thread woven through the tapestry of Greek and Cypriot culture. The legends and myths that Greeks do so well become entwined with the cuisine, lashing romance and history, sometimes nostalgia around each recipe. It’s about the famed Greek hospitality that lingers in every dish, the habit of making enough for 10 when only 5 are coming to dinner. It’s about abundance; we feed everyone – it’s how we show our love, and how I show mine. (Though my wife has commented that diamonds work just as well...) Anyone who knows a Greek, knows hospitality; no one goes hungry. Having dinner at a Greek home with just enough for everyone, wouldn’t have the essence of a Cypriot dinner. Alone, we may eat frugally, but we entertain BIG. So hospitality and abundance for sure, but it’s also the stories that cradle a plate of food, the childhood memory of eating something all together and the conversations around a table. Ultimately, I would define Greek food as honest, made from wonderful produce, rooted in village life, but made with a passion that Greeks can barely hide. The epitome of this, for me, is the Greek salad, probably one of the simplest to create, the difficulty lies in restraint. Its beauty lies in letting its ingredients shine. The ripest tomatoes, juicy cucumbers, sharp red onions, creamy feta, tangy olives, heady dried oregano, a drizzle of golden olive oil and a splash of sharp vinegar. Food of the Gods.

I wrote this book not intending to set out rigid instructions but to provide a template for you to work within, and that I hope will inspire you to add your own touches. I’ve shared my recipes and knowledge, but ultimately food should be enjoyed, and if that means adding a little more of this or a little less of that to suit your preferences, then please go ahead. It’s the nuances and personality of each cook that is the magic ingredient. A heavy hand, a light hand, is precisely what gives each dish its own DNA, what makes one mother’s moussaka different from another’s. I tend to use drizzles and glugs, a pinch of this and a handful of that and I want you to feel comfortable doing the same, don’t overthink it and have fun. I am hoping to come across copies of this book transformed into a cook’s crime scene with blood-red beetroot stains and olive oil fingerprints – a cookbook should be well-used.

All that remains is for me to say ‘Orexi!’, which comes from the Greek Kali Orexi, meaning good appetite, a bit like saying the French Bon Appetit!, only louder. Theo x

YOGURT & PITA

yiaourti kai pita

Both yogurt and pita are synonymous with Greek and Cypriot cuisines and an everyday staple. Though styles may vary slightly from country to country, region to region and household to household, they are all, in essence, just simple recipes of humble origin that are still as popular today as they were thousands of years ago. I find a romance in making both, following processes that are as old as Greek civilization itself, and then finally devouring the fruits of my labour and tasting a little bit of history.

I am sharing the recipes I use at home here. You’ll notice in the yogurt recipe I give very precise temperatures, which is something I fundamentally dislike doing... But I’ve made it a ton of times and rarely hit them exactly, so don’t be put off as a little variation is okay. Also, as a rule, the longer you leave your yogurt fermenting, the sharper it will taste; personally, I think about 5 hours is good, but it is up to you.

Pita for me is synonymous with family barbecues and it almost feels as vital to proceedings as the charcoal! A little insider knowledge: if you ever find yourself at a Greek barbecue, keep a look out for a conspicuous-looking kitchen towel that’s warm to the touch with yeast-scented steam seeping out... that is where you’ll find the pita!

HOMEMADE YOGURT

spitiko yiaourti

Making your own yogurt is extremely easy and surprisingly satisfying. To kick-start the process, I use yogurt with ‘live active cultures’. Besides being good for you, they also do the job of speeding up the fermentation process.

2 litres/quarts full-fat/whole milk

70 g/⅓ cup active live natural/plain yogurt

a thermometer

MAKES ABOUT 750 G/3½ CUPS

Warm the milk in a large saucepan to just under boiling point; do this slowly to avoid a grainy textured yogurt. Keep stirring to avoid it burning at the bottom of the pan. You want the thermometer to read about 93°C/200°F. Once you’ve hit that temperature, remove from the heat and let it cool to about 45°C/115°F.

Mix 250–500 ml/1–2 cups of the warm milk into the yogurt, and then tip the lot back into the pan with the rest of the milk and whisk. Cover with a lid and let it ferment for about 5 hours at 43°C/110°F. You can do this in the oven with the light on or in a warm spot in the kitchen.

After the 5 hours is up, transfer the pan to the fridge to cool and set. Once chilled, decant it into a sterilized jar and it will keep for a couple of weeks. If this regular yogurt doesn’t float your boat and you want something more unctuous, then I suggest you go Greek! Which is just a simple case of straining... Line a colander with some muslin/cheesecloth, pour in the yogurt, tie the ends of the cloth and put the colander in a saucepan in the fridge. Leave for 1–2 hours until you have thick and creamy yogurt.

LEAVENED FLATBREAD

pita

Light, fluffy Cypriot-style pita is traditionally thinner and cooked until the steam inside puffs up and creates a stuffable pocket. To keep these supple, envelop them in a kitchen towel while they are still hot from the oven.

400 g/3 cups plain/all-purpose flour, plus extra for dusting

a 7-g/¼-oz. sachet dried active yeast

2 generous pinches of sugar

2 generous pinches of salt

2 tablespoons olive oil

250 ml/1 cup warm water

MAKES 8

Preheat the oven to 230°C (450°F) Gas 8 with a baking sheet inside.

Sift 340 g/2½ cups of the flour into a mixing bowl and add the yeast, sugar and salt. Mix briefly. Drizzle over the olive oil and pour in the warm water. Gently mix everything together into a 'shaggy mess' with a wooden spoon. Knead this 'mess' for about 5 minutes. If it’s too sticky, add the remaining flour and keep kneading until fully incorporated. Once the dough has a springy texture, pop it in a lightly oiled bowl and cover with a kitchen towel. Leave for at least 45 minutes and up to 2 hours to rise; it should double in size and be extremely light and aerated. Knock the air out of it and divide into 8 balls. Flatten with the palm of your hand, cover with a damp cloth and let rest for 15 minutes. Roll each ball to 5 mm/¼ inch thick, quickly place the pitas onto the hot baking sheet and back into the oven as quickly as possible to avoid losing heat. Once puffed up with steam, they are done.

UNLEAVENED FLATBREAD

pita horis mayia

Unleavened bread is made without any raising agents, such as yeast, so this recipe couldn’t be easier or quicker. These Greek-style pitas are soft and pliable and great for wrapping around meats and salad.

215 g/1 cup Greek yogurt

260 g/2 cups plain/all-purpose flour, plus extra for dusting

1 tablespoon olive oil

salt butter, for cooking

MAKES 6

Add the yogurt, flour and olive oil to a bowl with a pinch of salt, and mix with a wooden spoon to combine everything.

Then knead with your hands until a soft dough ball appears. It will seem too dry at first, but persevere, and add a little more yogurt or flour if needed.

Cut the dough into six pieces. Roll out each piece to 5 mm/¼ inch thick. I usually fry these in a frying pan/ skillet on a medium heat in a little butter (but you can use dash of olive oil if you like) for a couple of minutes on each side.

Once cooked, wrap in a kitchen towel to keep warm or let them cool; either way they’re great.

TIP If you want more gyro-style flatbreads but don’t have the time (or inclination) to make pitas from scratch, you can add a heaped teaspoon of baking powder to the flour in this recipe at the start; it won’t officially be unleavened but is a good ‘cheat’ to know!

MEZE

MEZE

meze

We have all come together to eat, family and friends, a sacred occasion but not a rare one. This time the congregation is eating out at a local taverna, one of many in North London, amidst the Cypriot community living in the neighbourhood. The word taverna is derived from the latin taberna which can mean inn, shop, shed or even workshop and I rather like the romantic notion that the latter is exactly what it is. A cook’s workshop, where they can fine-tune their offerings for their dining guests’ pleasure. Nothing too pretentious, just good food cooked in a traditional way.

We enter the taverna and walk to the table, all of us urgently strategizing where to sit – you only have a few seconds so the pressure is immense. Yiayias and papous have an automatic rank of seniority that only comes with age and instantly dictates their seats but the young (basically the army privates of any Greek family) who have not yet earned their stripes are not given a choice. The old with the old, the young with the young. If you procrastinate too long you may get a seat in the wrong division, but that’s okay – you’ll jump to another one as soon as a call of nature leaves it free. Conversation starts to warm up as the piles of charred pitas arrive along with an array of colourful whipped dips and bowls of glossy olives. Once we are all settled in, a second wave of dishes appears; small plates, some steaming hot, some chilled, all delicious. I hear the music from Zorba the Greek playing in the background (and briefly wonder if it’s just in my own head) as the animated conversation around me reaches a crescendo and plate after plate of lovingly made food continues to appear on the table in front of us.

As the bottom of each plate starts to peep through, a waiter discreetly slips it under another full one and another wave of mezedes hits the table. This time the scent of the ocean arrives with it: deep-fried calamari, octopus, grilled fish, an aquatic precursor to the meats. Lemons are juggled across the table, pinches of salt scattered across dishes, the concept of eating together is not contrived, it’s just the way it is done. Soon the smell of charcoal, charred lamb and rich stews meanders through the air, making the carnivores salivate as if the previous hours of food hadn’t existed. Then the meats arrive, again as before, small dishes, rich in flavour and just enough to share with a little left over. More pitas are ordered, wine glasses are topped up – kids sneak a sip whenever the watchful eyes of the higher-ranking family members wander. Heated debate, that to an outsider might sound like a family intervention, is just the whispering of sweet nothings for us, and I am guessing it’s the same for all the other Greek and Cypriot families as well.

There comes a point when the food slows, empty dishes and plates start to disappear from the table and the unconscious hankering for something sweet is satisfied when a selection of bite-sized desserts arrive. Baklava, glyko – one or two bites is just enough to sate the need for sugar and are washed down with a strong Greek coffee and a shot of zivania (a clear Cypriot brandy). So what makes a meze? Simply put, it is small plates, any of your choosing, brought to the table on what appears to be a conveyor belt of food – the only criteria is that you have good company to share it with. The food is, of course, divine, but we all know it’s not really about that... it’s about the family, the friends, the conversation and the human connections. Philosophizing, making controversial statements designed to raise embarrassed laughter, debating about life, love and the world with a little local gossip thrown in for good measure – you know, all the important stuff in life. To share food is to create a bond and the tradition of breaking bread is as old as time itself with one purpose; to build relationships. So many cultures have their own tradition of small shared plates from Spanish tapas and Venetian cicchetti to Moroccan kemia. Sometimes it is as simple as a small selection of nibbles to be grazing on with a glass of wine at sunset, sometimes it is a substantial feast eaten as a meal, but there are no rules other than to enjoy the food, the company and yourself!

SEA BREAM & WATERMELON CEVICHE

me ceviche karpouzi

On hot afternoons in w, sometimes I’d be quietly lazing about, with only the scent of the sun-kissed earth between the lemon trees and sound of the waves meandering through the air for company... Suddenly I’d hear shouts of ‘Karpouzi! Karpouzi!’ as a gravelly voiced old farmer drove through the village in an open-top trailer piled high with watermelons. But I didn’t mind being startled and falling off my chair... they were damn good watermelons. My ceviche is inspired by those moments and the memory of eating the sweet fruit with the juices running down my chin and the salty breath of the sea.

1 sea bream fillet (120 g/4¼ oz.)

1 garlic clove

freshly squeezed juice of 2 lemons

70 g/2½ oz. watermelon, flesh diced into 1.25-cm/½-inch cubes

20 g/¾ oz. red onion, finely diced

1 teaspoon finely diced fresh red chilli/chile

a generous pinch of freshly chopped coriander/cilantro leaves

1 tablespoon olive oil

salt

crisply toasted pita bread, to serve

SERVES 2 AS AN APPETIZER OR 4 AS MEZE

If it isn’t already prepared, prepare the fish fillet by skinning and deboning it, and cutting away the darker meat that runs lengthways along the fish where the skin was. The easiest way to do this is, once the fillet is skinned and deboned, simply turn it over (skinned-side up) and cut a ‘v’ lengthways along the middle. Once done, cut the flesh into 1.25-cm/½-inch cubes.

Gently crush the garlic clove to just break the shell but keep the clove whole, more or less.

Add the garlic, cubed fish and lemon juice to a bowl, ensuring the fish is completely covered by the lemon juice. Let it ‘cook’ for 15 minutes, by which time it will have turned opaque.

Remove the fish from the lemon juice, shaking off any excess liquid, and place the fish in a clean bowl (reserving the liquid). Add the watermelon, red onion, chilli and coriander a little at a time, tasting to ensure the flavour is evenly balanced. Once done, add the olive oil, a pinch of salt and a teaspoon of the reserved lemon liquid.

Serve immediately. It goes well with some crisply toasted pita bread.

TIP You can substitute sea bream with sea bass. Always ensure you use the freshest fish possible.

SALT-BAKED BEETROOT WITH WILD GARLIC

pantzaria salata

One of the mainstays at our family’s kitchen table is a bowl of pantzaria salata. At its heart, it is sliced beetroot with a light dressing of olive oil, vinegar and raw slices of garlic. Here salt-baking the beetroot both intensifies the flavour and seasons it, while the wild garlic leaves and flowers maintain that traditional flavour combination but in a slightly more subtle way.

1 egg white

350 g/1¾ cups coarse rock salt

150 g/¾ cup sugar

4–5 small beetroots/beets (about 350 g/12 oz.)

a few sprigs of fresh thyme

1 small garlic clove, peeled

12 wild garlic/ramps leaves

freshly ground black pepper

olive oil, for drizzling

red wine vinegar, for drizzling

a roasting pan or deep-sided baking sheet, lined with baking parchment

SERVES 6

Preheat the oven to 180°C (360°F) Gas 4.

First make the salt crust by whisking the egg white, then folding in the salt and sugar. You should have a wet cement-type consistency; add more salt if needed.

Put a little of the salt mixture in the centre of the parchment on the prepared roasting pan to make a bed for the beetroots to sit on. Group the beetroots together on top of this, add the thyme sprigs and spoon the remaining salt mixture over the top, ensuring the beetroots are fully covered. Bake in the oven for 1½–2 hours, depending on the size of the beetroots.

Once done, leave to cool for 10 minutes before breaking open the salt crust. Remove the beetroots and, while they are still warm (but cool enough to handle), peel the skin off. If they go cold, the skin is harder to peel. Slice the beetroots into discs about 5 mm/¼ inch thick. (A good life hack is to rub olive oil on your hands before touching the beetroot and it stops it staining your fingers!)

Slice the garlic as thinly as you can scatter it over the beetroot. Season with black pepper and drizzles of olive oil and vinegar. Roughly slice the wild garlic leaves, leaving a few whole just for show, and gently fold all the ingredients together. Serve at room temperature.

TIP If you have wild garlic flowers you can add these to the salad as a final garnish, dotted over the salad after you have plated up.

RAINBOW TOMATO SALAD

tomatosalata ouranio toxo

There is almost nothing as wonderful and satisfying to eat as a naturally grown tomato. Bursting with colour, sweetness, and a heady summer aroma that lingers in the air, a beautiful plump tomato is a gift from the Gods. Buy tomatoes in season and never store them in your fridge. I always include a few of the plum variety in this salad to ensure sweetness and then simply anoint them with a pomegranate molasses and white balsamic dressing to complement their ripe flesh. Served flat on a plate, rather than elbowing each other in a bowl, this recipe treats tomatoes with the respect a gift deserves.

500 g/1 lb. 2 oz. ripe heirloom tomatoes

¼ red onion

2 tablespoons freshly chopped flat-leaf parsley

a pinch of Greek dried oregano

4 tablespoons white balsamic vinegar

1 teaspoon pomegranate molasses

2 tablespoons pomegranate seeds

sea salt flakes and freshly ground black pepper

olive oil, for drizzling

SERVES 8 AS MEZE

Slice the tomatoes about 1.25 cm/½ inch thick and gently layer them in a serving dish. Slice the red onion as finely as you can and scatter over the tomatoes, followed by the chopped parsley.

Season generously with the oregano and some coarsely ground black pepper and a pinch of sea salt flakes.

Drizzle over some olive oil, just a couple of shakes to let it seep through the crevices between the tomatoes.

Mix together the balsamic vinegar and pomegranate molasses to give you a rich purple dressing (you can up the quantities of this and store for another day; I love it). Sprinkle some of it over the tomatoes and finish with a light scattering of pomegranate seeds.

There is nothing more to do. At a push, a few shavings of Kefalotyri cheese won’t hurt it, but tomatoes are very self-conscious and would hate to feel overdressed.

SALAD FOR THE SOUL

kolyva

This salad is inspired by kolyva, a dish served during a mnimosino in the Greek Orthodox church. Mnimosino is a memorial service for loved ones who have passed. Kolyva is a symbolic and decorated dish and (I don’t know why I feel guilty about this) it tastes delicious. Whenever I’ve attended church for one of these services, the family will have made their own version of kolyva