If you ever have the time and inclination to do so, I'd love to see some of your recipes posted here.
Okay,
@Renzatic: This is for you.
@Arkitect and
@lizkat may also derive some pleasure from reading these tales, memories, and recipes of Greece.
Greek style lamb chops, Greek style lemon potatoes, a mixed green salad (homemade French dressing), and homemade aioli.
Recipes to follow later.
My father loved Greece, and loved the culture and climate of Greece and he loved Greek cuisine. Or, rather, to be more precise, he loved certain, specific dishes he used to dine on, nightly, if and whenever possible, when holidaying in Greece: Namely, lamb chops (lamb cutlets, if we are aiming for a ambience that suggests a more cultured, elegant, civilised and elevated world, for, if Mark Twain could assert that "cauliflower is simply cabbage with a college education", then, well, I'd argue that cutlets are simply middle class - bourgeois - chops) with roasted potatoes, a salad, and wine.
Now, as he is no longer with us, - and hasn't been for the best part of two decades - I am unable to put this question to him; I do know that while he loved lamb cutlets (chops) and roasted potatoes whenever I prepared them for him (anytime my mother was away, and I donned my chef's apron, he requested lamb cutlets and roast potatoes for dinner every evening; luckily, I am partial to them, too, and we would also cheerfully drink wine together, and chat at length over dinner), somehow, it wasn't quite the same as what he had devoured with greedy relish, in Greece, which I knew he loved, but I wasn't so sure I was quite able to capture, or replicate, this dish in all of its Hellenic/Greek glory.
Okay, sunshine, antiquity, holiday atmosphere, all ensured that the experience was even more unforgettable, but, until recently, I had never really quite realised (for Greek cuisine is not considered to be on quite the same level as the more elevated interpretations of Italian, or French cuisine) that lamb cutlets (chops) in Greece are prepared in a quite specific way.
While the various descriptions of the recipes (for "Greek lamb chops") I consulted do differ, in actual fact, they don't differ by all that much. The ingredients and preparation are pretty much the same irrespective of which recipe is consulted.
However, every site I consulted informed me that "Greek lemon roast potatoes" were a non-negotiable accompaniment to Greek lamb chops.
Every single ingredient was purchased in the farmers' market (organic, environmentally aware, etc etc).
The trick - or treat - is that the lamb spends some time in a marinade. "Time", in this context, is as elastic as time is thought to be: Anything from twenty minutes, or thirty minutes, to twenty four hours.
And that marinade comes with some quite specific ingredients: They are: Grated lemon zest, lemon juice, (zest and juice of one lemon), minced garlic (and here, as always, I doubled - at the very least - the quantities suggested; in fact, I doubled the quantity of minced garlic of the recipe with the largest number - four cloves - of minced garlic, hence, I used seven or eight), olive oil, sea salt, black pepper, dried oregano (at least a generous teaspoon).
You prepare the marinade, wash (and dry) the lamb chops (cutlets) and then place them gently in a dish with the marinade, turning them every half hour or so. Today's chops spent around four hours in their marinade, before they were introduced to a sauté pan, where shimmering olive oil, with that wonderfully oleaginous texture of olive oil that has met and married something very hot, awaited it.
Greek Lemon Roasted Potatoes: Again, recipes vary, but not by much.
Here, the first dilemma is whether you parboil the potatoes or not, before roasting them; I've learned this the hard way: Parboiling cuts at least an hour off your actual cooking time.
So, peeled (or not, your choice, - some ferociously healthy types prefer not to do so - but, personally, I peel potatoes) and cut into thick wedges potatoes are added to salted, boiling water; today I used chicken stock, and parboiled (until "tender to point of a knife"), until almost cooked.
The potatoes were then scooped (slotted spoon territory) into a roasting dish, already drizzled with some olive oil.
And, to that were added some familiar ingredients: Lemon juice (half a lemon, I used almost a full lemon), a few dessertspoons of the delicious potato cooking liquid, several cloves (around eight, although most recipes suggest something along the lines of four) of minced garlic; a few teaspoons of dried oregano, - I didn't have fresh; fresh rosemary - I stripped a few stems of rosemary of their needles - and, of course, yet more olive oil drizzled over the potatoes. Plus sea salt, and black pepper.
This found its way into a hot oven (180-200C) for over an hour, taken out, and turned and basted after half an hour, whereupon it was returned to the oven, and more liquid can be added (olive oil, potato liquid, lemon juice) if it looks as though it may be running the risk of drying out.
While this lot were roasting, I prepared a green salad (mixed green leaves, purchased on Saturday at one of the organic stalls in the farmers' market) and my own homemade French dressing: Olive oil, red wine vinegar, a dash of Balsamic vinegar, sea salt, black pepper, Dijon mustard (I used a small - dainty - teaspoon, the sort that would not be out of place at afternoon tea served in an opulent, somewhat old-fashioned, 19th century city centre hotel, the sort of hotel barristers and judges would probably stay in while on cuircuit - with not quite a teaspoon of mustard), an unusually small amount (well, today, I had lots and lots of it to hand) of minced garlic, roughly a quarter of a really dainty teaspoon, and a large teaspoon of honey; and I added some chopped flat leaf parsley.
I also - because I was in the mood for it, had the ingredients to hand, and today, for some reason, I quite fancied this sort of cooking, although I do not doubt that this added dish, or element, did not make an appearance at a taverna table somewhere in Greece - prepared some aioli, that is, homemade garlic mayonnaise.
That called for three core ingredients, although there are versions with many more: The three ingredients are egg yolks (free range, organic; today, I used two, sometimes, when feeling very greedy, I have used three), and two very familiar ingredients, olive oil, and - yes, yet again - minced garlic (I contented myself with around four, fat cloves of freshly minced, new season's garlic for the aioli).
Separate (the verb, for this is an instruction) egg yolks and egg whites, and the former are added to a bowl where the minced garlic already awaits, the latter can be kept for some other delight; stir (a fork is fine); then, slowly, very slowly, add - as in drizzle - a trickle of slowly poured olive oil, stirring, and - eventually - whisking. I use a large hand whisk which works wonderfully well. Add some olive oil; whisk and blend; add some more olive oil, pouring in a slow drizzle, whisk and blend; and so on. The mayo will be glossy, rich and a deep (daffodil) yellow, and - when it emulsifies properly - will be almost solid in texture.
Dinner was delicious, and tonight, I shall probably repel vampires.
