Saturday: Taking a seasonal cue from the Greeks

A few summers ago, my family spent time on the obscure and relatively unspoiled Greek island of Ikaria, where Andreas’s parents were born and where he still has aunts, uncles and many cousins. There we searched restaurant menus in vain for dolmades. These grape leaves stuffed with rice and other ingredients were (and are) one of our family’s favorite Greek specialties, and we were eager to see how they were prepared on the island. When we finally asked why we didn’t find them, the waitress gave us a “you silly Americans” look as she patiently explained that grape leaves were out of season, and that we would have to come in May to order dolmades. Well duh, I should have figured that out.

Suddenly I was struck by how independent that place remains in terms of food production. Ikarians on their remote and rocky island are far more in touch with seasonal availability than this Oregonian living two blocks from the supermarket. Twice a week, a boat would come from the mainland or other islands carrying goods for the local shops, but the cargo comprised mainly things like breakfast cereal, flour, ice cream and canned soda. Fresh meats, fruits and vegetables are nearly all grown right there (with the exception of barge-loads of karpouzi, fresh watermelon, a summer essential that apparently can’t be produced in large enough quantity on the island to satisfy its summer residents).

When we toured some family property with a cousin, we saw where as late as the 1970s Andreas’s relatives were threshing wheat by hand and picking olives to produce their own oil. Both of these activities are largely left to commercial operations these days, but even now there are still some individuals who make their own (especially the oil).

Tonight’s big cooking project is a Greek appetizer platter. Several months ago, I agreed to put together one of these as part of a wine-tasting fund-raiser for an organization I support, not knowing that it would coincide with the final days of the Eat Local week. The promised platter will hold dolmades, individual spanakopita, feta and olives. It would be a breeze to do locally, if this were Ikaria in the springtime. Hence the project involves a few cheats. For the dolmades, the onion, dill and parsley at least were no problem.

Because I knew the dolma obligation was on the calendar, I asked my oldest son before he came for a visit last weekend to stop by his local farmer’s market for locally grown rice and lemons (he lives in Davis California, where they grow both of those). Not local to us, but at least they came from small, sustainable farms and didn’t make a special truck trip to get here. Pine nuts were purchased in bulk from the co-op, another cheat: I could have left them out but dolmades are so much better with them, and this is for a good cause, after all.

The grape leaves themselves come from our back yard. I used to buy them in bottles, at considerable expense. Then when we first planted grapes and I called the Extension Service to find out how to bottle my own, I was told that home canning of grape leaves was not recommended under USDA home canning guidelines, and so I gave up the idea for several years. But then a couple of years ago, Andreas hit on the idea of freezing the leaves. He picks young leaves in late May, blanches them in boiling water, dries them and then freezes them flat in small batches, well-wrapped. It works great. I just have to add a little salt to the filling to make up for the salt that is in bottled leaves; this is better anyway because I can control the amount of salt in the final product.

For the spanakopita, almost everything in the filling is local: green onions, dill, parsley, egg, with chard instead of spinach (so technically the dish is hortakopita, not spanakopita – greens, not spinach). Siskiyou Crest makes a delicious artisan goat feta, but price considerations prevented me using it this time and I went with a cheaper, non-local brand instead. Homemade feta is on my short-term list of things to learn to make. I also bought frozen phyllo dough. Perhaps someday I will try making my own, if one of Andreas’s aunts can show me how (Aunt Koula is a wonderful teacher in the kitchen – she doesn’t measure things, so I just follow her around with a notepad and watch carefully). But I doubt I would ever give up the frozen dough. Even Aunt Koula uses it.

The wine-tasting event is tomorrow, and so is a staff pot-luck for my work, so I made extra of everything and stashed it in the fridge (the spanikopita are folded and ready to bake right before they are needed). Dinner tonight was a quick affair, grilled meat and veggies with bread and a few leftovers from previous dinners. My daughter’s school friend who is spending the night was skeptical when my daughter told her that we were “eating local,” wondering aloud at what we could possibly find to have for dinner. I think the second helping of peach cobbler convinced her that we would get by.