Showing posts with label Greece. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Greece. Show all posts

Sunday, March 31, 2013

A Greek Easter Feast

Smoky Slow Cooked Lamb and Traditional Greek Salad

My most memorable Easter was spent on the island of Crete in Greece. Dustin and I were there in 2006  just after getting engaged, upsetting our lives to spend some time in Europe and figure out if marriage was right for us.

We'd rented a tiny studio apartment overlooking the ocean with two wooden twin beds, a hot plate, and a cold water shower. All the other tenants were Greek, including the friend we'd made at the car rental agency who'd found the apartment for us. We spent lazy days cruising the coastline by scooter discovering vibrant red poppy fields, tasting homemade moonshine and wine in the dark back-rooms of grocery stores, and purchasing our daily supply of perfect, sun-warmed tomatoes.

It was spring so the weather was still cool and the tourists were at a minimum. The Easter buzz began two weeks or so before the holiday. Everywhere we went, locals warned us that all businesses would be closed for several days around the holiday and tried to prep us on all the upcoming events. Coming from a background of fuzzy bunnies and egg hunts, we had no context for the festivities that were to come.

Traditional Greek Salad

I don't know the ins and outs of the Catholic religion/Greek orthodoxy, so forgive me if I explain this incorrectly. During the days leading up to Easter, the people will fast. On the eve of the holiday, people gather in the evening, in our case the town center was a small lake, and start to set off fireworks. It was quite pretty to see the reflection of the sparklers in the water as thousands of people gathered around in their Sunday best. As the excitement builds toward midnight, the fireworks become more intense. We were constantly dodging roman candles and M80s at this point, the devilish grins of teenaged boys illuminated by a constant spark.

A religious procession made its way to the lake, led by robed priests and what appeared to be a life-sized figure nailed to a cross. There were prayers and songs and candles held high by all in a moment of silent reflection. And in one fantastic finale, the figure on the cross was floated upright in the middle of the lake and set ablaze. Cheers rang out and firecrackers exploded everywhere. I swear someone threw dynamite into the lake at one point.

It turns out the figure on the cross was Judas, the apostle who betrayed Jesus, whom everyone was happy to burn. We were some of the last people hanging out by the lake after midnight as the local people went to their homes to share a meal and break their fast. The next morning we were invited to our neighbor's apartment for dinner and ate some of the best food of our lives including grilled lamb and fresh bread.

This year, we'd tried to relive some of those memories by hosting a Greek style barbecue on our very different island home. Below you will find recipes for slow-cooked lamb and traditional Greek salad. We also enjoyed spanakopita, tzatziki, and grilled asparagus fresh from our garden as my nephews hunted for eggs in the sand.

Beach egg hunt

I hope you have a delicious, memorable, and special Easter.



Smoky Slow-Cooked Leg of Lamb
serves 10-15

5 lb boneless leg of lamb
5 cloves garlic
1/2 cup fresh rosemary
1/2 cup fresh oregano
juice of 1 lemon
1/2 cup water
olive oil
salt & pepper

In a food processor blend garlic, herbs, and some salt & pepper to form a paste. Cut lamb into large sections about 1 pound each. Rub the lamb with the paste, drizzle with olive oil and allow to marinate for at least 2 hours and up to overnight.

In a slow cooker, add lemon juice and 1/2 cup water. Stack lamb in the slow cooker, sprinkle with more salt & pepper and olive oil and cook on low for just shy of 8 hours. You want the meat to easily pull apart, but not so loose the it fall apart when picked up.

Prepared a charcoal grill with wood chips. Grill the pieces of lamb, drizzled with more oil, for no more than 5 minutes each side so as to impart smoky flavor and form an outer crust, but avoid drying out the meat. If the meat is falling apart (that's ok!) then simply grill it on a piece of foil so it won't fall through the grate.

Serve with tzatziki, on pita bread or make a gravy from the drippings in the slow cooker. Enjoy!


Traditional Greek Salad
serves 10-12

3 cucumbers
5-6 tomatoes
1/2 red onion
1 cup kalamata olives (or other Greek olives if you can find them)
5-6 oz feta cheese (be sure to get the block style and check that it is made with sheep's milk)
fresh oregano or a dried mediterranean herb blend
fresh lemon juice or your favorite vinegar
olive oil
salt & pepper

Cut cucumbers in half lengthwise and chop into 1/2 inch slices. Slice tomatoes so they are a similar thickness to cucumbers. Please in a bowl and sprinkle with salt & pepper.

Layer thinly sliced red onion and olives on top. Slice cheese into 1/4 inch slices and layer on top, sprinkle with herbs and salt & pepper. Drizzle with lemon juice and olive oil when ready to serve. Enjoy!

Monday, August 13, 2012

Make Your Own Limoncello


Limoncello has buried itself in the memory part of my brain, right next to dusty days under the hot Greek sun, walking endless straight lines through silvery olive groves, eyes to the ground in search of ancient pieces of pottery. Limoncello also butts right up against memories of Dustin and I, confused lovers on a quest for meaning in a tiny stone apartment, again in Greece.

Like many college grads, I headed off to Europe for a summer trek to celebrate my accomplishments. It would be the trip that sealed my love for solo travel. (Did you know my trip to NYC this summer was solo? A friend pointed out that I never mentioned this in any posts.) My sister happened to be on the island of Crete in Greece helping out on an archaeological project, so of course I headed her way. Their assignment was to survey miles and miles of farmland and open fields and record any pottery that happened to be lying on the ground. Imagine hours of hiking in the hot summer sun, scrutinizing every stone and dirt clod for possible signs of long gone life. It was grueling for them, week after week, sometimes finding nothing. It was joyous for me, handling a cup thousands of years old among the olive trees and screaming cicadas.

We'd head back to homebase, after these hours of surveying, exhausted and covered in reddish brown dust only to collapse around the shared courtyard in the setting sun. Somehow bowls of pasta materialized, along with liters of local wine, and after, rounds and rounds of creamy limoncello.


Limoncello glides right along, in between and in and out of my memories of Greece. After a few tormenting months in Denver, Dustin and I abruptly left the city and boarded a last minute flight to Europe. I couldn't wait to share with him the beauty I'd found the previous summer on Crete. Bouganvillea covered archways, candlelit shrines hidden deep inside caves, rocky hillsides, the wine-dark Mediterranean.

We spent our nights listening to music out of speakers fashioned from earbuds and paper cups, playing Egyptian Rat Screw on our pushed-together twin beds, trying to figure out whether forever was our future. I'd slice up a couple of impossibly red tomatoes, a cucumber, and the richest feta cheese to go with our homemade wine stored in recycled water bottles. And then in went the rounds and rounds of creamy limoncello. Sweet and tangy.

Sipping limoncello brings me right back, to somewhere in between starting a life and avoiding one.


Limoncello (not creamy, sorry!)
adapted from the recipe by Giada de Laurentiis

10 lemons (or 5-6 Hawaii sized lemons, like softballs)
750 ml vodka (1 bottle)
3 1/2 cups water
2 1/2 cups sugar

Peel lemons with a vegetable peeler, reserving rest of the lemon for another use. It helps to peel them in long strips. Using a very sharp paring knife, remove as much of the pith (white part of the peel) as you can. This takes time, but is the key to a good limoncello. Place peels in a container (like a juice pitcher) and allow to steep at room temperature for 4 days.

Heat water and sugar over medium heat in a sauce pan until sugar dissolves. Allow to cool and add sugar water to pitcher. Steep for another 24 hours.

Strain limoncello and discard peels. Bottle and store in the fridge for up to a month. Enjoy!

This recipe is featured on Foodie Friends Friday




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