The Homogeneous Food Principle

I love Mediterranean food, and in particular I am fascinated by the complexity and culture that surrounds Greek cuisine. But there is this thing I call the homogeneous food principle. In a nut shell it revolves around a simple question. "Can you get too much of a good thing?" After living in Greece for five years, quite clearly the answer is yes! For me particularly in the area of breakfast. My northern and fat cell producing body craves a substantial breakfast. In a country where the national morning sustenance is coffee and a cigarette, this is where the homogeneous food principle screams loudest. Quite clearly my ranting comes from my consumeristic (i.e. spoiled for choice) North American food culture. My purpose is not to complain about what we can't have,  but to celebrate what we miss. To appreciate the things that make our homelands unique and special. When it comes down to it, I miss the times as a kid when I would sit beside my grandpa and listen to his jokes over bacon, eggs and fried potatoes. So to those of you who are exiles from your own homogeneous food culture, please comment and scream aloud what you crave the most from home!

On the road in Santorini: Caper leaves

When the salad was placed in front of me it looked like a regular Greek salad.  But as I tucked in I realized that there was something vastly different about this salad. Protruding from amidst the slabs of tomato were small olive green coloured leaves. At this point curiosity got the better of me and I quickly picked one out and popped it into my mouth for a taste. Although I had never tried one before, I  Instantly knew these were pickled caper leaves. Most of us have seen and wondered  what to do with capers, but the leaves? What we generally call capers are the pickled flower buds of the caper plant. They are pungent, bursting with flavour and used in a variety of Mediterranean dishes.  Brined in the same way and armed with the same flavour profile, the leaves are mellower, almost subtle in flavour and add complexity to dishes without dominating. They are great in salads and complement many meat dishes. So if you ever visit Santorini make sure you pick up a couple of jars from the old guys selling them on the side of the road. Caper leaves are a specialty there and should be enjoyed without reservation.

Homemade Vanilla

When I was a kid I was confused by the term "artificial vanilla". I thought either it was vanilla or it wasn't, as simple as that.  Well like most things in life it wasn't as easy as that. I did not understand organic chemistry and the whole concept of  flavour esters. Like any kid, I thought vanilla was something that made the pancakes taste better. It wasn't until I was much older that I came across a vanilla bean. Each bean comes from an orchid that is hand pollinated, hand picked and then heated to kill the bean, sweated to develop flavour, dried to concentrate flavour, and then cured by aging. All this labour results in vanilla being the second most expensive spice in the world. Only saffron is more. So the real question of the day is: how do you take an ugly black wrinkled bean and make it into the liquid we use in baking and ice-cream? It's actually very simple. You soak it in alcohol. 

What you need:

• 2-3 vanilla beans
• 1-2 cups of vodka (any alcohol will work, I am in the process of creating some really nice vanilla from bourbon)

How it's done:

• Take the beans and split them in half or break them up. This increases the surface area to come in contact with the alcohol.
• Place the beans and alcohol in a sealed jar or bottle and give it a good shake.
• Store for at least 2-3 months, shaking periodically. As time passes, you will gradually see the liquid darken.
• As you use the vanilla you can top it up with some more alcohol to basically create a never-ending supply. 

Homemade vanilla is a real treat and is super simple. There is no excuse for you to purchase "artificial" anymore!

On the Road in Santorini: Vinsanto

A few of the things you notice as you step onto the dock of Santorini's port are the super blue sky, the blazing sun and the volcanic rock. As you grow accustomed to the heat and the surroundings you begin to marvel at the sheer beauty of the place. Perfect white houses in contrast to ultramarine blue sky, domed churches clinging to cliff faces, whole villages incorporated into the rugged landscape. When you look out and see the puffs of smoke from the active volcano you begin to wonder if this surreal place was once the lost city of Atlantis. In this beautiful but harsh environment, there is little that survives the heat, wind and lack of water combination, but what does grow here has been carefully adapted to to the climate to thrive. Of these, vineyards are at the forefront. I have been looking at vines and tasting the results for many years now but never have I seen such an adaptation or tasted anything that resembles what comes from this small island. Normally, vines are trained either on a trellis system or head trained. But on Santorini, the vines are twisted into a basket shape that is grown very low to the ground with the shoots twisted inward to protect them from the harsh winds. Ingenious! Only four buds are left during pruning, thus putting all of the plant's energy into the production of sweet fruit. There are also differences during the harvest and wine production as well. Because of the heat, the grapes ripen early and harvest usually takes place in August (in most places harvest is Sept-Nov depending on the variety). Once the grapes have been picked they are then set out to dry for two weeks. This concentrates the sugars (evaporating the excess water in the grapes) and deepens the colour. Once fermented, they are transformed into Vinsanto, a sweet dessert wine with notes of caramel, honey and raisins combined with a strong finish. Truly a well made and adapted wine to be appreciated.