The only caveat is that this dessert is best served the same day it is made. Once refrigerated, the custard tends to harden and loses its lovely texture.

Ingredients

For the filling:

• 6 cups milk
• 1-1/4 cup fine flour
• 6 egg yolks
• 1/2 cup sugar
• 1 tbsp. vanilla extract
• 2 tbsp. unsalted butter

For the syrup:

• 1 cup sugar
• 1 cup water
• 5 cm piece of lemon rind
• 5 cm piece of orange rind
• Juice of 1/2 a lemon
• ½ kilo phyllo pastry sheets
• ½ kilo unsalted butter, melted (for brushing)

Preparation:

Make the Filling: In a large saucepan, heat the milk over medium high heat until just boiling. Add the flour and stir with a whisk. Lower the heat to medium low.
Using a whisk, beat the egg yolks with the sugar. Ladle a cup of the warmed milk into the egg mixture to temper and then add the egg yolk mixture to the pot.
Continue to cook over medium low heat until the cream starts to thicken, stirring continuously.

When the custard has thickened, remove from heat and stir in the vanilla extract and the butter. Set aside.

Unwrap the Phyllo: Carefully remove the Phyllo roll from the plastic sleeve. Using a pair of scissors or sharp knife, cut the sheets in half to make two stacks. To prevent drying, cover one stack with wax paper and a damp paper towel while working with the other.

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.

Assemble the Galaktoboureko: Using a pastry brush, brush the bottom and sides of a rectangular pan. You will use approximately half the phyllo sheets for the bottom of the pastry. Begin by layering sheets one by one in the bottom of the pan, making sure to brush each one thoroughly with melted butter.

When you have almost layered half the sheets, drape two sheets of phyllo so that they extend half in the pan and half out of the pan horizontally. Add the custard in an even layer on top of the sheets, smoothing the surface with a spatula. Fold the phyllo sheet flaps in over the custard layer. Add the remaining sheets on top, brushing each sheet with melted butter.

Before baking, score the top layer of phyllo (making sure not to puncture the filling layer) to enable easier cutting of pieces later. I place the pan in the freezer for about 10 to 15 minutes to harden the top layers and then use a serrated knife.

Bake in a preheated oven for 45 minutes or until the phyllo turns a deep golden color.

While the Galaktoboureko is baking, prepare the syrup: Combine the sugar and water in a saucepan and add the lemon peel and orange peel. Boil over medium high heat for approximately 10 – 15 minutes. Remove the lemon and orange peel and stir in the lemon juice. Remove from heat and set aside to cool.

Prep Time: 45 minutes, Cook Time: 45 minutes

Total Time: 1 hour, 30 minutes, Yield: Approximately 24 pieces

Caution: Do not pour hot syrup over the hot custard. Allow both to cool to room temperature and then carefully ladle the syrup over the galaktoboureko and allow time for it to be absorbed.

To read more, please visit greekfoodabout.com

I saw the ruins of Athens, the rocky shorelines and picturesque houses of Mykonos, the rolling hills and mountains of Naxos, The Palace of the Grand Masters of Knights in Rhodes, the mesmerizing Balos Lagoon and Palace of Knossos on Crete, and the Tholos of Athena Pronaia Sanctuary and Oracle at Delphi.

In my time in Greece I learned that there was much more than just olive oil and seafood to Greek cuisine. Traditionally the Greeks and Cretans ate vegetables, grains, fruits, seafood and olives. In fact their diet was vastly healthier eating homemade unprocessed food, unlike what they do now (which is more like a SAD Westernized diet drenched in copious amounts of olive oil and wine).

So what I took from my travels was using vegetables, grains and herbs in a way that complimented each other to bring out the full flavor of simple vegetable based dishes. The Greek rice stuffed peppers served in Greece are generally stuffed with ground meat as well, but occasionally I found some that were vegan without meat. Mykonos served some at the beach cafes and a Taverna in Delphi had some as well. But these versions used white arborio rice (Italian risotto rice) and were drenched in olive oil.

For my version I decided to switch to whole grain brown rice and remove the olive oil (for health purposes dousing all vegetables in olive oil isn’t recommended). So while it’s not “traditional” it is still very rustic and delicious. I’ve packed it full of dill, parsley and lemon juice so you get all the flavor of the full fat version but without the extra calories.

This recipe is featured in my cookbook Vegan Comfort Foods From Around The World which is available in a digital or physical version wherever you are in the world.

In fact it’s probably my family’s favorite recipe, my mom and even my friends make this recipe regularly as an entree for omnivores and they always receive rave reviews. So it makes me happy that something so simple can be delicious and satisfying to people on a wide variety of diets.

So scroll down for the recipe and get cooking!

Prep Time: 

30 min Total Time: 1 hour 20 min

Yield:

Serves 3-4 for entrées or 6-8 as a side dish

Ingredients

6 large or 8 small bell peppers (any color but green)
1 large onion, diced
3 medium carrots, peeled and diced
3 small zucchinis, peeled and diced
1 cup / 236 ml. vegetable broth
3 cups cooked brown rice
5 Tbsp. tomato paste
3/4 cup whole fresh parsley, de-stemmed and chopped
3/4 cup whole fresh dill, de-stemmed and chopped
1/2-1 lemon, juiced
1/4 tsp. fresh ground pepper
3/4 tsp. Herbamare or salt (or to taste)
1 lemon—cut into wedges (optional)

Directions

Preheat oven to 350 F /175 C. Cut tops off of peppers like you would a jack-o-lantern,
remove seeds, and wash thoroughly.
Place in an oven safe dish arranged upright and put tops back on. Bake for 30 minutes.
Meanwhile, in a large pan, saut. onions, carrots and zucchini in vegetable broth for 5-6 minutes.
Stir in the rice and tomato paste and coat thoroughly.
Add parsley, dill, lemon juice, pepper, and Herbamare or salt and stir to combine.
When peppers are ready, remove from oven and fill with stuffing.
Place tops back on peppers and bake for an extra 30-40 minutes until peppers are soft.
Serve additional wedges of lemon if desired.

Additional Tips

Don’t use green peppers. Green peppers are unripe and much harder. They will not be done in time if you cook them along with red, yellow or orange peppers. Additionally you can substitute white rice for the brown if you like.

Nutrition Facts: 6 Servings

Amount Per Serving

• Calories 170.9
• Total Fat 1.4 g
• Saturated Fat 0.3 g
• Sodium 325.7 mg
• Total Carbohydrate 37.1 g
• Dietary Fiber 5.6 g
• Sugars 3.6 g
• Protein 4.4 g

By Low Fat Vegan Chef Veronica

lowfatveganchef.com

And no wonder - in Greek mythology figs are associated with Bacchus, also known as Dionysus, the god of wine and song. Yet this very ancient and biblical fruit is making a resurgence in modern times.

A fig tree is said to appear in some images of the Garden of Eden, giving a religious connotation to this Grecian delicacy. Figs are mentioned in the Christian Bible, but not only that, the Muslims' Koran, and the Jewish Torah. The early Greeks so highly prized figs that it was considered an honour to bestow upon the winner of various competitions both the foliage and fruit of a fig tree. And when modesty became popular in ancient times, the private parts of Greek statues were covered with fig leaves. This also comes from the religious belief Adam and Eve covered their nakedness with leaves that are usually said to be from the fig tree after they ate the forbidden fruit. Even some religious scholars believe the forbidden fruit was in fact a fig. Also, in Greek mythology, when Zeus was pursuing Ge and her son, Sykeus, in the war of the Titans, in order to save her son, Ge metamorphosed into a fig tree.

Figs enjoy a Mediterranean climate that has a long, hot, dry summer, that's why they are so commonly found in Greece and Italy and feature heavily in both cuisines. The fig tree can live as long as 100 years and grow to 100 feet tall, although domestic trees are kept pruned to a height of about 16 feet. There are hundreds of varieties of figs, ranging in colour from nearly black to almost white, and only the female fruits are edible. The green varieties are normally reserved for drying.
The shelf life of fresh figs is brief indeed. They must be picked ripe from the trees as they do not ripen well once picked. A very firm fig is not ripe and will not properly ripen further. Snatch them up and use them as soon as you find them in the market as they will spoil within seven to ten days of harvesting. In most cases this means you have about three days at most to use them at home. Select figs that are clean and dry, with smooth, unbroken skin. The fruit should be soft and bouncy to touch, but not mushy and overripe. Use your nose when picking figs and smell the fruit. If it smells slightly sour, it has already begun to ferment. The fruit is sweet to taste and in ancient times, was used a sweetener before refined sugar. And given they are among the richest plant sources of calcium and fibre you can rest assured you are doing your body a good deed by indulging in figs.

But even though there is a short window to indulge in fresh figs, figs as a fruit can be consumed all year round. Dried figs are readily available - and many varieties and brands are imported from Greece to Australia for consumption here. Also, figs can be made into jams, and preserved for savoury dishes or as spoon sweets to enjoy with coffee. There are also biscuits readily available filled with a fig jam. Fresh and dried figs are also perfect for breakfast. Mixed in with Greek yoghurt and honey it makes a nutritious breakfast option. Preserved figs are great to include in muesli and of course, fig jam is perfect on a toasted piece of sourdough.

By Penni Pappas

http://neoskosmos.com

There are differences among fats, of course, but with trans-fats in full retreat and lard and butter making comebacks, the whole fat-eating thing is starting to make some sense. Of course, the key word is moderation. You can eat fat as long as it’s high quality and you don’t eat it to the exclusion of plants.

That’s one reason you shouldn’t reject deep-frying at home; I do it about once a month. The second reason is that you know you love it. The third is that it can be fast and easy. The fourth is that you can deep-fry plants. (And anything else.)

Frying is thought of as messy, but this can be mitigated by the simplest of measures: using a pot that is heavy, broad and deep, like a well-made stockpot. Choose this, add a fair amount of oil and the process is simplified and neat.

Which oil? How much? Since most deep-frying is done at around 180 degrees Celsius, this whole notion that olive oil is inappropriate for frying is nonsense; it smokes at 190 (and smoking isn’t the end of the story, either). So olive oil — especially “pure,” which is a step below extra-virgin and in theory less expensive — is a fine option, especially for something in which you’d like its flavor, which could include any of the recipes here.

Unless, that is, you’re seasoning tempura with soy sauce, in which case you might choose peanut oil, which is as flavorful as olive oil, but obviously different. The third excellent option is grapeseed oil, which is as close to neutral as you can find.

None of these is as inexpensive as vegetable oil, or soy, or corn or Wesson. And if you don’t have problems with chemical extraction, you might choose one of them; they are, after all, what is used for nearly all commercial deep-frying. If, however, you can afford it and you want the best possible frying experience, use one of those three mentioned above, or at least a cold-pressed neutral oil like safflower or sunflower.

Money is an issue, since on the face of it, frying isn’t cheap. When it comes to the “how much” question, I’d say around 6 cups is probably enough in most cases.

But more is generally better, and you can reuse the oil quite a few times for deep-frying, stir-frying or sautéing, as long as you strain out most solids — and you need not be fanatic about this; a quick run through a strainer is fine — and keep it in the refrigerator. (You might consider keeping oil you’re not using in the near future in the refrigerator anyway; rancidity comes from heat and light and it’s nasty. If you have an old bottle of oil sitting around in your kitchen, smell it; you’ll probably throw it away.)

The goal of frying is to crisp the outside perfectly and cook the inside just enough, while keeping the whole package from absorbing more than a bit of oil. Most of this happens magically, as long as you follow the rules, which I’ll get to in a second. There are three or four levels of protection you can give the interior, and all of them become satisfying crusts — again, as long as everything goes right.

The first layer of protection is the stuff itself: you allow the outside of the food you’re cooking to become the crisp part (that’s like a French fry, or falafel or “naked” fried chicken). Then there’s the second layer: a light dusting of cornmeal, flour or the like (I like this with fried squid or fried chicken, especially when seasoned heavily with black pepper). Then a fluffy coating, like tempura or a doughy, pancake-like batter (the latter, it seems to me, is often — perhaps usually — overkill). And finally, the old flour, egg and bread crumb treatment, which is, well, yum.

They’re all pretty much appropriate for anything. You choose the food you want to fry, you choose the coating, you follow these general instructions and it’ll work.

Start by putting at least two inches of oil in a heavy and, as I said, deep pot. Less than two inches and you may not be deep-frying; it’ll work, but you might have to turn the food more often, it might stick to the bottom a bit and it might cook less evenly.

Turn the heat to medium or medium-high and go about your business. Part of that business might be finding a thermometer, because you want that oil to be between 350 and 365 in almost every instance. The heavy pot will help keep that temperature stable.

You don’t have to have a thermometer, though, because there are a couple of other ways to know when the oil is ready. It’s just about right when a pinch of flour sizzles without burning immediately; that’s not super-accurate, but if you then add a single piece of food and it first sinks a bit and then immediately rises to the top, the oil is perfect. If it sits on the bottom like a flounder, the oil isn’t hot enough; if it doesn’t sink at all the oil is too hot. The oil is also too hot if it’s smoking.

Add your food in batches and don’t crowd; you do not want the temperature to plummet, nor do you want the pieces of food nestling against one another. (Though it’s fine if they bump.) You may or may not have to turn the pieces, but that’s easy, because they’ll be floating and they won’t stick. Remove them with a slotted spoon, tongs or spider; you’ll know when they’re done because the color will be evenly gorgeous.

Take it slow and either eat the food as it comes out of the fat (you can drain on paper towels or, if you want to be fancy, a cloth napkin) or keep it warm for as little time as possible in a low oven. Myself, I like to fry when people are standing around eating the food as fast as I can produce it; that is really fun. And good for you.

By Mark Bittman

www.nytimes.com

It is betaine that causes some people to pass reddish coloured urine, called beeturia, after eating beets. It’s a harmless side effect that will subside once the food leaves your system.

Betaine acts as an antioxidant and also helps fight inflammation in the body, a risk factor for many chronic diseases. Research has shown that people who consume the most betaine from foods – versus the least – have lower blood levels of inflammatory immune compounds, including C-reactive protein.

Beets are good for your liver, too. That’s because the liver uses betaine to neutralize toxins so they can be removed from the body. Beets also offer plenty of folate, a B vitamin used to create and repair DNA and make red blood cells. And beets are a good source of potassium, a mineral that helps keep blood pressure in check.

It’s true that beets have more natural sugar than other vegetables (although considerably less than fruit), but they are still low in calories. One-half cup of cooked beets, for example, delivers only 37 calories. (The same serving size of broccoli has 27 calories.)

If long cooking times deter you from eating beets more often, oven roast or boil whole, unpeeled, scrubbed beets in advance. That way it takes only a few minutes to heat them or add them to a salad. Or, cut unpeeled medium-sized beets into quarters and steam them for 15 minutes. You can also grill slices of raw beets, brushed with olive oil, for eight to 10 minutes per side.

Per serving, cooked beets have nearly twice as much betaine as raw beets. Folate and potassium are similar for cooked and raw beets, provided you cook them in their skin.

Don’t stop at the beetroot. Beet greens are also packed with nutrition, in particular beta-carotene and lutein, an antioxidant that helps maintain healthy vision. Toss washed beet greens into salads, add them to soups and pasta sauces, or sauté them in olive oil and crushed garlic until tender.

Beet nutrition

Per 1/2 cup of cooked, sliced red beets:

37 calories

0 grams fat

1.7 grams fibre

6.7 grams sugar

259 mg potassium

68 mcg folate

217 mg betaine

Beets seven ways

Go raw. Add grated raw beets to salads, coleslaw and wraps.

Blend. Purée chopped, cooked beets into a fruit or green smoothie.

Roast. Include beets in a medley of oven-roasted root vegetables, such as carrots, parsnips and turnips. Beets take longer to cook than other vegetables, so pre-roast them, then add to the other vegetables near the end of their cooking time.

Sauté. Heat chopped, precooked beets in olive oil with freshly squeezed orange juice and grated orange rind. Garnish with chopped chives.

Toss. Serve sliced roasted or grilled beets over a bed of greens. Add orange slices, toasted walnuts and a sprinkle of feta or goat’s cheese.

Slurp. Enjoy a bowl of borscht, a traditional Russian soup made with beets.

Snack. Bake beet chips by tossing peeled and thinly sliced beets (use a mandolin) with olive oil. Spread slices evenly on a baking sheet; bake at 200 C until crispy. Sprinkle with sea salt.

By Leslie Beck

www.theglobeandmail.com

While there are as many methods for frying salt cod as there are cooks who fry it, skordalia variations tend to follow a regional vein. I have always been impressed by the wealth of regional expressions when it comes to this simple peasant dish, as well as to the ritual that often goes into its preparation.

Garlic, olive oil, and salt are the constants in all Greek skordalia recipes, but the base, acid, and consistency vary from place to place. Dried bread, boiled potatoes, and nuts, especially almonds, pine nuts or walnuts, may all be used as the base of this pungent specialty, either alone or together with stale bread or potatoes. One recipe, from the Peloponnese, calls for starchy chestnuts. Fresh lemon juice, fish stock or broth, and vinegar are the liquids that help balance the final flavors. At least one version, a traditional recipe of the Asia Minor Greeks, calls for pistachios; the skordalia of Nea Marmara in Halkidiki is made with feta and mint; one delicious, obscure recipe popular in the traditional shepherd’s cooking of the Greeks who came to Greece from the Black Sea, is made with almonds, yogurt and vinegar.

Connoisseurs of skordalia know that a certain ritual is part and practice of its preparation. I will never forget once walking in on an old caterer friend who was making skordalia for a party—by hand, potato by potato, drop by drop of olive oil, pinch by pinch of salt, in a mortar, pounding each potato with the pestle with zenlike rhythm. To this day, the mortar and pestle are the best tools for making skordalia because they allow for the control of speed with which one breaks down the starch in the potatoes or bread that most commonly make up the base. A food processor’s blade is too swift and violent and results in a gummy skordalia. Unless the potatoes are cold, which is the advice of the family fry master, who, between dipping chunks of salt cod in his secret batter and frying them with the patience of Jove, he also sometimes takes a stand near the mixer, making the dish in question. Cold potatoes don’t break down as easily, it turns out, as hot ones. But they also don’t absorb oil as easily.

Aliada

In the Ionian islands, skordalia is called aliada, clearly an Italian sounding word and once that evinces vincing the influence that 200 hundred or so years of Venetian administration over these islands brought to their cookery.

Perhaps nowhere is the certainty of ritual more obvious than in the old cooks of Cephalonia, where the island’s aliada is made with rules developed over centuries. Mortar and pestle are de rigueur, the vessel and mechanism by which the first steps in the making of skordalia are taken as the cook pounds garlic cloves and salt to a smooth paste. In a separate plate, traditionally made of wood or fired clay, she mashes boiled potatoes either with the pestle or with a fist-sized smooth stone. A pot nearby contains salt cod that’s been soaked and is now simmering to further desalt it. Its broth provides the gustatory undertones and depth of flavor in the final aliada and is added to the garlic and salt, to be followed by a few spoonfuls of partially mashed potatoes. Slowly, step by step and increment by increment, each of these ingredients is wedded to the final, smooth and silky potato-based aliada which is partnered with crispy fried salt cod or other small, fried fish.

By Diane Kochilas

dianekochilas.com

Greek cooks give loukoumades their distinctive shape by squeezing the very soft dough through their hands into the hot oil and turning the dough while it cooks until it is puffed and golden. Be very careful doing this as the hot oil may spit and there has been the odd report of an exploding loukoumada. Drain them on absorbent paper, drizzle them with honey – single-blossom is good for added flavour and fragrance – and scatter them with ground cinnamon for the traditional version of this luscious dish. Don’t stand on ceremony, either, waiting for the whole batch to cook. These little golden beauties are best served as hot as you can handle.

We’ve glammed our loukoumades up with wedges of photogenic (and tasty) figs and fragrant thyme leaves, but at their heart they remain the essence of simplicity. Simple, perhaps, but we’re betting you won’t be able to stop at one (or even two).

Ingredients

14 gr (about 2 sachets) dried yeast
300 gr (2 cups) plain flour, sieved
For deep-frying: vegetable oil
10 black figs, quartered

Honey and thyme syrup

360 gr (1 cup) Attiki or other Greek honey
110 gr (½ cup) sugar
1 lemon, thinly peeled rind and juice only
2 tbsp thyme leaves, plus extra to serve


METHOD

1. Combine yeast and 250ml warm water ina large bowl, stir to combine, then add 75gm flour, stir and set aside until foamy (5-7 minutes). Add remaining flour, 250ml warm water and a pinch of salt and beat with a wooden spoon until smooth and elastic. Cover and set aside until doubled in size (1-1½ hours).
2. Meanwhile, for honey and thyme syrup, combine honey, sugar, rind, juice and 125ml water in a small saucepan over medium heat, stir until sugar dissolves (3-5 minutes), then simmer until slightly reduced and syrupy (5-7 minutes). Remove from heat, cool slightly, add thyme leaves and set aside to cool to room temperature.
3. Meanwhile, heat vegetable oil in a deep-fryer or deep-sided frying pan to 180C. Spoon tablespoons of batter into oil, or squeeze them through your hands (be careful as hot oil may spit), and turn occasionally until golden and cooked through (3-4 minutes). Remove with a slotted spoon, drain on absorbent paper. Serve warm with figs, drizzled with syrup and scattered with extra thyme.


Note This recipe comes courtesy of Mary Loucas, mother of GT editor Anthea Loucas and is from the March 2010 issue of Australian Gourmet Traveller.

Serves 10

Cooking Time Prep time 20 mins, cook 25 mins (plus proving, cooling)

WORDS Emma Knowles RECIPE Alice Storey and Mary Loucas PHOTOGRAPHY Ben Dearnley STYLING Geraldine Munoz and Alice Storey

For more information, please visit Gourmettraveller.com.au