I read this book many years ago, almost all in one sitting.  D and I had driven up to our beach house for one last fall weekend and to celebrate our wedding anniversary.  We have a lovely time on this annual weekend, walking the beach, lying on the deck and watching the stars and cooking up delectable little treats to eat.  But it is also the first Sunday in the NFL Season and D is often anxious to make his way over to the “big cottage” that is equipped with satellite TV.  In the mean while, I will make a cup of tea and cozy up on the deck or if the weather is still really fair, down to the beach for an afternoon read.

Tom Stone lived in Greece for twenty-two years and one summer, was partner and cook of a tavern which catered to the fishermen of the area in the mornings, locals at lunch and tourists in the evening and sometime early into the morning.

Here is an excerpt from the chapter entitled “The Main Course”, with the sub-head of “First Lessons” about the weekend before the Taverna opens for business (page 104-105):

That Saturday morning, I unpacked the rest of my things and began making space for myself in the kitchen.

It was, of course, infinitely smaller than the one I had remembered when I was indulging in my fantasies back in Rethymnon.  Barely large enough to accommodate tiny Demetra and myself, much less Memis and the boys, every available space in it seemed to be utilized twice over.  The walls were lined with shelves, cupboards, plates, glasses, flour, pastas, herbs, matches, old lottery tickets, nails, string, and, among other useless items, a broken telephone.  In the center stood a large working table, and another, smaller table was in a nook leading to the glass-fronted display units.  Along the back wall crouched a huge, blackened electric stove with four hot plates on top.  Next to it was a gas-operated three-burner range.

To the left of the stove, also along the back wall, were two stained, stainless steel sinks and a draining board, and leading off that to the rear, a long, narrow space that Theologos had recently added on in one of his attempts at improvement.  It was a bedroom, dressing and storage room, with two narrow cots that were used both for quick naps and for the boys to sleep at night.  A narrow passageway running behind the walk in refrigerator linked it to the taverna’s single toilet, also accessible from the dining area, and barely larger than those you find on airplanes.  In an alcove was a wash basin and a door that led to the outside storage area, mainly used for empty creates and bottles and for washing and peeling vegetables.

I staked a claim to the small table between the kitchen area and the refrigerated display units and set up my food processor and work area there.  Since Memis was apparently also going to help (at no extra cost, it seemed) and had clearly fallen for one potato cutter, I left him to find a space for it.

One of the features of this and many of my favourite stories of living in a foreign place, are the appendices of recipes in the back of the book:

I was going to fashion these around a skewer to grill but the weather turned cold, so I didn’t want D to have to fire up the barbeque.  There were moist and delicious and reminded me of my own time in Greece.

Kath’s quote: Diogenes, the ancient Greek philosopher, once advised a young courtier, “If you lived on cabbage, you would not be obliged to flatter the powerful.” To which the courtier replied, “If you flattered the powerful, you would not be obliged to live upon cabbage.” – Diogenes

Love-that is all.

In the olden days when I was a young Mom, I had a couple of go-to recipe books where many of our family’s meals originated.  The Best of Bridge was one resource and the Company’s Coming cookbooks another.  But the most family meals likely came from The Campbell Soup Cookbook.  With a few simple ingredients, a can of cream soup (it didn’t much matter whether it was cream of chicken, cream of mushroom or cream of celery) could be transformed into supper.

Fast forward to present day where I try to cook as “clean” as possible, avoiding processed foods, “white” ingredients, reducing fat and increasing fibre.  BUT, my family still have favourite dishes that they love the taste and memories of.  This week our youngest was writing her last major paper of her winter semester at university.  On the day that she successfully sent it off,  I asked her what she would like me to make for dinner to celebrate her hard work.  The answer: Chicken Enchiladas and I knew that I better not muck around with the recipe too much because this particular offspring is a stickler for tradition and authenticity.  So I had to be sneaky about it.  I prefer to refer to my tactics as “clever”.

The original recipe is pretty basic: cook up fresh or left over chicken with diced onion and chili powder.  In the mean time, mix a can of cream soup with equal parts of sour cream.  Add a couple of dollops of this mixture to the chicken.  Place the chicken mixture in a line across the edge of a flour tortilla.  Roll up, place in a pan and spread with the sour cream mixture.  Cover with foil and bake until the centre of the middle wrap is heated through and add grated cheese over top.

I modified the recipe by mixing up a batch of the soup substitute:

The consistency was different, the substitute version in foreground.

The two versions looked identical when added to the chicken and heated.

The difference in consistency was evident before they were placed into the oven.

Both versions side by side and you couldn’t tell the difference (even to the discerning taste buds of Daughter #2).

Lucky for us, J1, J2 and the Wee One arrived at our door right at supper time so we had another expert judge at the table and at our house at dinner time, it is always to more, the merrier.

Kath’s quote: “Serve this dish with much too much wine for your guests, along with some cooked green vegetables and a huge salad. You will be famous in about half an hour.” -Jeff Smith (The Frugal Gourmet)

Love-that is all.

One last recipe to clean out the provisions and pack for our trip.

Love-that is all.

Two sleeps and we will be off on our winter vacation and so I am trying to use up groceries in the house AND bake up some healthy snacks for the car ride to Minneapolis where we will catch our flights.  I had a bag of frozen peach slices in the freezer and this whipped together in no time.  I poured the half thawed peach slices right into the batter without chopping them first and I was pleased with the hearty look of the finished product as well as the delicious taste of a meaty peach.

Kath’s quote: “An apple is an excellent thing — until you have tried a peach.”-George du Maurier

Love-that is all.

What started as a “ministry” (defined as a term of service to others) for D and I has turned out to be anything but.  I’ll explain.  A number of years ago a young family came to our house to learn a little bit more about our community.  I had put out refreshments and a couple of things to nibble on.  They asked in advance if they could bring their newborn baby along.  When they arrived, our youngest daughter whisked the baby away and kept him entertained while the adults enjoyed some one on one time together.  This was our version of hospitality, nothing out of the ordinary, just how you take care of people when you invite them to your home.  Well, the husband and wife went on and on about how our evening together was an absolute delight and the most pleasurable evening that they had enjoyed in a very long time.  Even though our family is all grown up, it doesn’t mean that D and I do not remember those years, when everything was focused on the caring of our children with little time alone with other adults.  Well this got me thinking-maybe D and I should host one of these evenings once a month!

We start as soon as most parents are getting home from work so all that they have to do is gather up the family and arrive at our place in time for dinner.  D and I (and Sister #3 who had to be recruited when the gang grew too large for us to manage on our own), eat with the kids in the dining room and the parents help themselves in the kitchen and find a spot in the living room.  As soon as we have completed supper we head downstairs to our family room that we have set up for play.  The evening commences when the young families head home in time for their kids to have a regular bedtime.

Fast forward a number of years (I truly do not know how many), and our little time “of service” is rolling along.  Except that it does not feel anything like a favour to others but an absolute joy for us.  In fact, D is like a little child himself, watching out the window in anticipation of the families’ arrival.  I have had to become more and more imaginative with my cooking as the group has grown quite large and I want to ensure that the meals are quick, not messy, nutritious and affordable.  We plan in advance.  We have a gathering this week and found a great buy on whole wheat tortellini that I will serve with a tomato veggie sauce.

In addition to the joy that we experience when being with the families and all of the hugs and kisses from the toddlers upon their departure, the families take the time to reciprocate whenever they can with pictures for the fridge (both from the portrait studio and crayon renditions by the children), other much appreciate gifts and often times, dinners at their home.  I know that cooking for us is stressful.  Not because we are picking eaters, in fact, we are quite the contrary, but because people seem to think that we consume culinary masterpieces on a regular basis, when this is absolutely not the case.

Recently, one of “our” families asked us to dine with them.  As we were heaping accolades upon Theresa and the meal, she quietly said :”Oh, I am so glad.  We wanted this meal to be special, because we wanted to show you how much we appreciate what you do for us.”  There it is again:  Food=love.  We knew we were loved because of the care that went on in kitchen, in fact we knew we were loved, from the very time of the invite.

I didn’t want to put any extra pressure on T and J, so I didn’t take my camera that evening.  Instead, J texted me the main course recipe with his I Phone and I recreated it at home.  I altered the recipe quite substantially, not because it wasn’t perfect, but because I didn’t have the exact same ingredients as Theresa in the house.  Her version is from The Joy of Cooking which she indicates is her go-to recipe book.  It was mine too when I was a young Mom, but when the spine broke and my favourite recipes kept slipping out to be forever lost in the untidiness of new parenthood, I had to lay it to rest.

I assembled the dish last evening, but then when no one came home for dinner (I indulged in Superbowl leftovers in front of the Jets game) I baked it up this morning.  I have a dinner date tonight so that our house will enjoy this scrumptious dish without me.  In the mean time the taste is just as delectable as Theresa’s version.

Kath’s quote: “Stand facing the stove.” – Marion Rombauer Becker (collaborator of the Joy of Cooking)

Love-that is all.