Tinned tomatoes

I've been following the populist 'no more tinned tomatoes' debate that broke out just over a week ago in the New Zealand media, when a women's refuge worker demanded (not just requested) that food donations to the charity should not include tinned tomatoes. The 'Treatise on Tinned Tomatoes and Why They Are Like Books' did not get as much airtime as did the readers' vicious comments about the connection between 'poor people' and tinned tomatoes, which sounded like it was coming from non-Maori/Pasifika (read: white) higher-end middle class New Zealand society. The post (I found a cached version) did not actually villify tinned tomatoes. All the reasons that the writer gave for banning tinned tomatoes were based on solid facts and sound logic. Given that we are just days away before Christmas, it shouldn't be too difficult for most people to see why words like 'tinned' and 'staple foods' don't collocate well with 'Christmas'.

The women's refuge worker claimed that refuges (like food banks) often have many tinned tomatoes in their pantries, often past their due date. Women who use refuges generally don't use tinned tomatoes, nor did the people who raised them, and some of the women who use refuges don't even (know how to) cook. So if you gave those women a choice, they would never even ask for tinned tomatoes. In other words: if a woman cooks with tinned tomatoes, its a cultural thing. Pasifika/Maori women - the main users of women's refuges in NZ - are unlikely to have a cultural background of cooking with tinned tomatoes. Middle class NZ society might be very surprised to discover this: some people just don't use this quintessential global pantry stocker. By judging these women on foreign (to them) cultural terms, ie as good and knowledgeable budgeters ("tinned tomatoes are cheap!", "tinned tomatoes are versatile!"), the 'tinned tomato brigade' can't actually see what these women are feeling when they enter a refuge, ie sadness, depression, shellshock, running away from violence. Coupled with a lack of life skills and literacy skills, being cash strapped, in debt and looking after children, they wouldn't even feel like cooking, let alone cook from scratch: tinned tomatoes usually imply cooking from scratch.

Women who turn to a refuge for help have no family support - if they did, they would not be asking a refuge to help them. The writer made a point of how important it was to help such women get what they wanted, rather than what other people feel they need. In such moments, they want simple comforts: "spaghetti on toast or really simple things, stuff [that can be eaten] straight from a can if needs be".  Donors donate what they think poor people (which does not always mean the same thing as 'women in a refuge') need rather than want: "That’s you putting your values, and your mores, and your cultural prejudices on other people." Offering to teach women how to cook, how to use tinned tomatoes, and any other life skills they may be lacking is all very well, but there's a time and place for everything; when they arrive at a refuge, they need to settle into a new kind of life. Eventually, they may start preparing meals like they used to for themselves and their children; but some of these women may never want to cook, let alone from scratch. So tinned tomatoes are probably never going to be useful for them.

My old no longer wanted books started this foreign language library at CIHEAM.MAI Chania. Many students use it in their free time, and students also add to the collection.

The writer made the analogy that "tinned tomatoes are a bit like books": just like we don't all cook, we don't all read. While cooking and reading may sound like very basic activities to some people, to others they are not. For some people, cooking and reading are very difficult activities. Giving things to people who need things is not the same as giving people presents: the things you give to people who need things have to be useful things. Giving tinned tomatoes - a very cheap common product - to someone who has never used them is like giving away your old books which you no longer wish to read to people who never read novels. The better off harbour comfortable perceptions about what others should be doing all the time to become better off.

The treastise against tinned tomatoes aroused a storm of comments from both sides of the argument. A (Maori) woman working for another women's refuge added canned chickpeas and canned lentils to the forbidden list of items that refuges didn't want:

"We ask for fresh meat and vegetables and we get beans and lentils. What are our people going to do with chickpeas? Are they going to be making hummus in the safe house? Like tinned tomatoes, chickpeas and lentils have to be cooked and accompanied with other ingredients, using knowledge and supplies that many families [don't] have."

A (white) woman working for a Salvation Army food bank said she was shocked to hear that other charities were turning away tinned tomatoes:

"...the refuges are being a bit fussy... We are very short on things like [tinned] tomatoes... chickpeas and lentils are staples in Salvation Army food parcels given to families at this time of year... The staples are never going to go out of fashion. And hungry families will usually eat anything."

Anything? I doubt it. (And she also put her cultural prejudices into the picture by calling women in refuges hungry.)  Food is incredibly personal and highly cultural. Clearly the Salvation Army is catering for different kinds of people from those entering a women's refuge. People on a low income may also lead a more stable kind of life, not the nomadic existence of a woman fleeing from violence. Processed food is not necessarily the greatest miracle in the food world to make women's lives easier; having someone doing all the bloody cooking for you is even better than buying, carrying, storing, preparing and cooking food yourself. We don't all have that luxury of a private home cook; this usually happens when you are very wealthy or if you live in a cultural setting where one of the household's women (eg the grandmother) will prepare meals for all the family members, who may be working out of the home, or have been assigned other tasks. As mentioned above, if a woman has this kind of family support, she would not be asking a refuge to help keep her safe in the first place.


Snails and xinohondro - highly acquired Cretan tastes!

As I was following the discussion in the media, what really struck me was how unlikely it is among these refuges that someone will be cooking something for someone else, so that those people who need a decent meal (especially children) would find something that wasn't full of sugar/fat/salt (read: snack-type ready-to-eat highly-processed, eat-from-the-packet kind of food). It is already obvious that a lot of the people using these services don't have many life skills needed in order to maintain a healthy standard. So why not have someone cooking something on a regular basis, which can be served up to everyone and is also healthy and comforting? Some of the commentators mentioned that they would like to do such a thing as a cook-up, where some of the meals produced can be frozen for emergency moments. I think that the answer to this question will bring to the fore a host of other social issues that will be difficult to resolve.

It seems to have escaped people's notice that a lot of people in highly advanced countries like New Zealand are too busy to cook these days. This doesn't apply just to people in difficult situations. Most people in advanced countries spend their time in many creative ways, which often include doing things away from the home. And when they do have free time, they spend it more leisurely. Cooking is not a leisure activity when you are thinking about how to feed a family. It's a chore.

Lentil (φακές - left) and bean (φασολάδα - right) stew/soup - it depends on how much water you add.

Cooking for others, cooking with tomatoes and cooking with beans are therefore all very culturally based. In truth, I cook tomato-based bean dishes not because they are the yummiest thing imaginable, but because I have to feed a family, and beans are a pretty good quick cheap choice of food which can be prepared the night before, by the working woman in the household. (I am doing this right now as I write: a pot of lentil stew is boiling away on the stove. It should be ready before midnight. No, I don't use a pressure cooker.) This is not to say that a woman living in New Zealand from the Maori/Pasifika cultures cannot do the same thing for her family as a Greek or Indian woman (two cultures which use beans a lot in their daily diet); she doesn't do this simply because it's not part of her culture. She could be taught to do something like this - but if it was never part of your culture to prepare food in this way, learning to do this kind of chore is very difficult in modern times, when people are generally being 'taught' to treat food as a commodity: you buy/eat food when it's time to eat, or when you're hungry, or maybe to comfort you - and it's all ready prepared by someone else, and - generally speaking - you will generally cook when you feel like it. What may have been part of the food culture of a Maori/Pasifika woman fifty years ago has now changed, due to her translocation - due both to internal and external migration - into a highly advanced society headed and directed by non-Maori/Pasifika leaders. No matter how settled a woman in New Zealand who has turned to a refuge becomes, she is unlikely to revert to a less processed-food daily diet.

*** *** *** 

The 'tinned toms' discussion that ensued tells us much more about comfort food, processed food, and the act of cooking, than it does about how to use tinned tomatoes. The following can be implied:
- Comfort food is ready-to-eat food
- Cooking is for people who lead stable lives
- Canned chickpeas and lentils are the kinds of food that connoisseurs, health-freaks, vegetarians, vegans (and generally other 'smart-farts') know about (and eat)
- Certain cultural groups eat a lot of chickpeas and lentils, so they will know what to do with them
- Certain classes of people - especially those whose lives are less complicated - have the chance to be more adventurous in their food experiences
- Canned food (eg chickpeas and lentils) is for poor people
- Canned tomatoes are useful in a home where the act (which is now often considered an art) of cooking can actually take place (read: you have a kitchen, a stove/oven, AND you can afford to pay the electricity/gas bills)
... inter alia.

Canned tomatoes - and muuuuuuuuch more recently canned beans, but never ever canned lentils, except at LIDL when it's having a 'Spanish week' - are highly popular among Greek food banks and especially in soup kitchens. They are cheap and easy to work with. They make quick filling meals. A heated tin of tomatoes could quite possibly be poured over some boiled pasta. BUT: If this was never part of your culinary repertoire, then you will not eat it, let alone know how to make it. Culinary knowledge in western countries has passed into the realms of mystery, while things like chickpeas and lentils are considered food for the poor - or food for cultured. Even Greeks will acknowledge that beans are cheap and that's why the eat them.  Most Greek women with a family (including me) will cook up a bean dish once a week on a week-day, de rigeur.

I can't actually imagine any working Greek woman with a family here in Crete not cooking up a bean dish at least 2-3 times a month, but this is based on cultural norms. Greeks may have become impoverished - but still, there is much truth in saying that theirs is a dignified kind of poverty. We can have our cake and eat it, because we know how to make the cake. Greek identity these days often implies food knowledge. Recent Greek emigrants due to the economic crisis often end up working in their own food-based business. Their family background is not necessarily middle class. They rarely realise the superiority of their culinary skills because until they leave Greece, they do not realise that there are people out there who lack such knowledge. They are also astounded to learn that most people in highly advanced societies watch cooking shows and buy cookery books - but they rarely cook meals: most of their food will have been prepared by someone else, for them to heat and eat.

It's still not very common to see soaked ready-to-use chickpeas (let alone lentils) in Greek supermarkets; on the other hand, there is a plethora of dried beans on the shelves. If such canned products were presented to a Greek woman, and she was asked to produce something on the spot with them, I don't think she'd have much trouble producing a hot comforting meal in little time. All you need to make classic Greek φακές (lentil stew) and ρεβιθάδα (chickpea stew) are tomatoes, beans and water; if you add some minced onion and garlic, salt and pepper, your soup/stew - depending on the amount of water you add - will taste nicer. A hot bean soup made with canned tomatoes makes great comfort food - and it tastes better the next day.

Puttanesca is one of the quickest things I can cook from scratch 

Tinned tomatoes are often hailed as a food processing miracle by media cooks:

"The larder is worryingly bare when you've run out of tinned tomatoes. They are the cook's comfort blanket, the progenitor of any number of soups, sauces, stews and braises... Tomatoes are the best source of the carotenoid pigment lycopene. Some studies suggest it can help prevent prostate, lung, and stomach cancers. Tomatoes are an interesting exception to the rule that cooking food reduces or destroys valuable micronutrients: lycopene is better absorbed when it has been heated, either during processing or cooking, as the heat turns the molecule into more useful isomers. Tomatoes provide significant amounts of bone-strengthening vitamin K, and some research suggests that lycopene also supports bone health. Many studies link tomatoes with heart benefits, and although the mechanisms aren't yet clear, the antioxidant vitamins C and E in them, along with lycopene, seem to slow down the processes that would eventually cause heart disease."

An old photo of my pantry - these days I prefer to freeze our bumper summer tomato harvest.

In short, a pantry full of tinned tomatoes and chickpeas and lentils symbolises domestic wisdom, happiness and prosperity. But this is something that is not within the sight of a woman fleeing to a refuge with just her kids and the clothes they're all wearing. They'd rather be having some tea and toast, and maybe something sweet, like chocolate biscuits, to bump up their spirits. In other words, they want the same things you want. I highly doubt that the average citizen of a highly advanced society is eating tinned chickpeas or lentils cooked in tinned tomatoes on a daily, let alone weekly basis. We all want variety.

When buying "food for the poor", we really need to think about what we ourselves like to eat rather than what we think poor people 'should' be eating. Better still, charities can tell you what they need because they know who they're supplying. It's even better to give them money (they are likely to make better deals with suppliers), so they can do the appropriate shopping for that tiny segment of society that is rarely visible to the majority. Especially now before Christmas, to make it a merry one, skip that bloody canned food. As the Greek saying goes:

Φάτε τώρα που το βρήκατε, γιατί αύριο έρχεται η φακή.

(Eat now that you have good food, because the lentils are coming tomorrow.)

More articles on Greek food banks and soup kitchens:
http://www.organicallycooked.com/2013/03/soup-kitchen.html
http://www.organicallycooked.com/2013/10/food-bank-community-grocery.html
http://www.organicallycooked.com/2016/04/the-social-kitchen-of-hania.html

All quotes come from the following links:
https://thespinoff.co.nz/parenting/11-12-2017/please-no-more-bloody-tinned-tomatoes/
https://www.radionz.co.nz/national/programmes/afternoons/audio/2018625266/jackie-clarke-no-more-tinned-tomatoes
https://www.stuff.co.nz/national/99767397/
https://thespinoff.co.nz/parenting/13-12-2017/no-charities-dont-want-your-inedible-food-items/
http://www.nzherald.co.nz/nz/news/article.cfm?c_id=1&objectid=11958543
http://www.newshub.co.nz/home/new-zealand/2017/12/charities-ask-kiwis-to-donate-more-than-second-hand-goods-or-tinned-vegetables.html
https://www.tvnz.co.nz/one-news/new-zealand/hamiltons-salvation-army-shocked-auckland-charity-turning-away-tinned-tomatoes
https://www.stuff.co.nz/national/99813458/we-want-tinned-tomatoes-hamiltons-salvation-army-says

https://www.stuff.co.nz/manawatu-standard/news/99843749/comments-rejecting-tinned-tomatoes-illjudged
https://www.stuff.co.nz/national/99909805/get-off-your-tinned-tomato-high-horse
https://www.stuff.co.nz/business/opinion-analysis/99946985/hype-about-tinned-tomatoes-has-raised-the-debate-on-giving
https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2013/oct/05/tinned-tomatoes-health-benefits-anti-cancer-strong-bones

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Black-eyed beans with greens

We've had gorgeous weather in the last week. The spinach is now growing really fast, together with the chard and wild greens - time to get my spring greens recipes in order.

Here's a dose of deliciousness that's easy to prepare: black-eyed beans with leafy greens.

You need:
300g dry black-eyed beans
1 large onion, chopped roughly
2-3 cloves garlic, minced finely
150ml olive oil
1 tablespoon tomato paste
a cup of pureed tomatoes (I use my own home-made tomato sauce, but you can used tinned tomatoes
a bunch of spinach, roughly chopped
a bunch of swiss chard, roughly chopped
a small bunch of aromatic wild greens or leafy herbs, finely chopped (I use Cretan wild greens, as explained in this post, but you can use dill, sorrel, dock, parsley, mint, etc)
salt and pepper

Boil the dry beans for 5 minutes, then drain the water and rinse the beans in a colander. Heat the olive oil in a pot and cook the onion and garlic till translucent. Add the beans, tomato, salt and pepper. Stir will everything has blended, then add enough water to cover the beans and top them by about 5cm. Cover the pot with a lid and cook on the lowest heat until the beans have softened (about 90-120 minutes). Add enough water to make the stew soupy but not runny.

Heat 2-3 tablespoons of olive oil in a shallow pan and wilt all the greens. Cook on low heat for fifteen minutes or so, then add them to the beans. Mix well. Serve hot, with sourdough bread, feta cheese and white wine.

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Herring - Renga (Ρέγκα)

Thinking back to my New Zealand days, I was not really deprived of my culture's culinary specialties. My mother cooked most of them, and for the things she couldn't cook, there was a Italian delicatessen near our home (which was primarily known for its European immigrants at the time) where we could pick up Spanish olive oil, sardines preserved in salt, Greek table olives, Italian salami and salted herring, which we called 'RENG-ga' (ρέγγα). Renga was one of those specialties which we bought once in a while, and ate a tiny bit of as an accompaniment to bean dishes. The renga was prepared and kept in the fridge.

Nowadays, we are all better informed about healthy cuisine, and we generally know what's good for us and what isn't. Salty food is not really good for our health; nevertheless, we still like to break the rules every now and then. Salted herrings are one of those every-now-and-then foods that we like to to eat, mainly to remind us of older times, and people who are no longer with us. These delicacies are widely available in most deli counters at the supermarket and most of the main markets in the town. It's been two years since we last bought renga - I decided that it was time to revive the renga tradition in my own home once more time this year.

Salted herrings are an imported product in Greece. These fish had always been popular in old-time Crete, especially among villagers who could not get access to fresh fish on a regular basis. Thus, they bought salted fish back to their homes in the remote inland or highlands, which could be stored without refrigeration, as was common in older times. The fish could be kept for as long as necessary, wrapped up in a piece of paper and placed in plastic. Salted fish was popular on certain feastdays during fasting periods, eg 25 March and Palm Sunday.


Salted herring is slightly burnt over an open flame, basically to heat it and remove the skin. The cooking process involves high heat to give a smoky taste to the herring. This is best done with a gas flame or even just a piece of paper set alight, with which you scorch the fish all over. Once you do this, you then open the fish and break it into small pieces, peeling away the remaining skin. The bones need to be carefully removed although they are soft and don't sting; the head and tail are generally not eaten, although gourmets may tell you that they contain the most taste.

If there is any roe in the fish, this is carefully removed, so as not to lose any. Lemon juice and olive oil are beaten together to create an emulsion, and the roe is placed inside this. With a fork, the roe is broken down and beaten into the emulsion. Then the broken fish pieces are placed into the mixture, as a marinade which removes some of the saltiness of the fish.

The renga is served like a side dish, mainly to accompany bean dishes. Renga is also a comfort food for the winter.

I prepared my renga last night to go with a curried black-eyed bean soup, but as it's a bit of a smelly and oily business, I wasn't able to take photos easily. I'm showing you my cousin Eirini's photos instead; it was she who inspired me to prepare renga for one more time. Eirini mashes the roe into the olive oil and lemon juice marinade, which thickens it slightly. In my own photo (below), the liquid is clearer because I had no roe to mash in. My fish is also whiter as I did not smoke it for as long as Eirini did.


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Dinner

Last night's dinner:

Fasolada and a slice of bread, with some white wine.

I never eat my bean soups with a spoon. I prefer the fork - the bread mops up all the sauces. Fasolada never feels like a soup to me anyway - there's much more bite in it than slurp.

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Fava (Φάβα)

How can such a simple dish arouse so much adulation?

Fava looks like gruel, but it is actually a tasty sweet dip-like main meal in Greece. Split yellow peas are boiled up with onion, some salt and a little olive oil, till they are turned into a pulp.

The pulp is usually placed in some kind of blender to produce a smooth creamy texture. But the taste remains the same, so I have dropped this step over the years, and I serve it rough, without pureeing it.

The typical Greek way to eat fava is to dress it with chopped onion and olive oil. It is served with slices of bread and maybe some cheese, boiled egg or olives - and if you are lucky, some little fried fish.

But vegetarians and vegans alike can dress up their dish as creatively as they like. I added some chopped parsley and some sliced peppers to my serving of fava. Other choices include sliced beets, carrots, celery sticks, and any other crunchy vegetables that you enjoy eating.

I noticed that there was not enough bread in the house when I made the fava, so I had mine with some paximadi, double-baked dry rusk that has been made in Greece since ancient times.

I've made fava many times and have blogged about it considerably, but every time I make fava, it looks so much better than the last time I made it, and I can't help taking new photographs. Fava shows the vegetarian nature of Greek cuisine and how colourful and nutritious a simple vegetarian meal can be.

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Broad Beans (Κουκιά)

Since I can't cook easily in my own home due to renovations, this is a chance for me to showcase some of my friends' cooking, especially since it's unlikely that I'm going to cook these special dishes myself.

As much as I want to grow as many plant varieties in my garden as possible, it is often the case that we get a lot of vegetables leftover, and there are so many left over, to the point that we find it difficult to eat it all ourselves. We preserve what we can, we give as much as possible away, but we still get left with a lot of fresh produce that we can't always get through. So I was kind of glad this year that we didn't plant spring crops like broad beans - I've still got a few summer beans in the deep freeze!

My friend Eirini is a big fan of broad beans, something she gets to eat when she spends time with her parents at their village in Hania. They are given to her by various people who are also growing a lot of crops in their small but bountiful gardens, which goes to show how easy it is to get things to grow in Crete. It's difficult not to get something edible to grow here.

Broad beans are enjoyed completely fresh, like a snack. You just peel the skin off and eat them as they are. When we cook them, they are usually boiled, with the top part (the black vein) removed. Boiled broad beans are eaten with boiled greens, and dressed with olive oil, lemon juice and salt.

Ascrolimbi and broad beans

A favorite of Eirini's is fresh immature broad bean pods, fried in olive oil after being dusted with flour. With a pinch of sea salt, they are like eating bean chips. It's a treat to enjoy such a dish and it isn't commonly known or eaten these days - you really need to be a grower to have it, as immature bean pods are rarely sold.

Fried immature broad bean pods

But the king of broad bean dishes in Crete is when they are cooked with artichokes. The sauce they are stewed in can be lemon-based or tomato-based - in fact, many Greek dishes are basically based on either lemon or tomato (which are usually not combined), and nearly all dishes have both a lemon and tomato variant.

Here is what Eirini says about this dish: "Snails, artichokes and immature broad beans in the pod - we call it derbiyie (derbiyedaki as my dad says it). Snail lovers will adore it from the first bite! This recipe was given to me last night when we went for a short walk with my father and a friend we met gave it to me. My father got the beans from the farmers' market. We had to search around a lot as the season for the baby broad beans is over. I was lucky and he found some for me. Broad beans were a favourite bean in my father's family when he was young. The best time to collect the baby broad beans is in early April. When they grow a bit you can make them 'derbiyie' (with lemon and flour). A very good match is artichokes - here, the snails are added too and make the dish a speciality. When the broad beans grow more you can have them bolied and eaten either with boiled artichokes or greens (horta)."

Broad beans and artichokes make a superb meal in combination, but when combined with one more particularly Cretan ingredient - the snail - they show how truly creative, local ans seasonal Cretan cuisine is. You cannot make this dish whenever you like - it has to be spring.

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Cauliflower and chickpeas (Κουνουπίδι και ρεβίθια)

I like to believe that the food I present in my blog is honest, simple, frugal, cheap, tasty, nutritious, sustainable and respectful, food that is within everyone's reach. The simplest meal combinations turn out to be the ones most well remembered by my eaters, who are my family, of course. I don't use any special techniques or ingredients and I try not to waste, especially anything we grow ourselves, to show respect not only to Mother Earth, but also to my husband who spends a good deal of his time in the garden, making it a fertile one all year round.

Here's a dish I recently prepared for our evening meal. Because of the curry flavour, the kids didn't try it, so maybe it's for more mature tastes; as Mediterraneans, they are not quite up to curry flavour. The addition of the chickpeas was last minute - but I thought they paired well with the cauliflower because both these ingredients are curry staples. The addition of a form of bean to a vegetable dish makes it a complete meal that includes protein, carbohydrates and roughage.

The quantities given for the ingredients are vague; it depends on how spicy you want your meal to be, and how many people are eating. You'll notice that i'm using ready-prepared ingredients, which have been prepped myself before I need them, eg boiled soaked chickpeas (so I must be preparing a chickpea stew for these to be hanging around) and finely chopped wild aromatic greens (so I must be preparing a spanakopita at some point soon), and

You need:
some par-boiled cauliflower florets: the amount of time you cook the cauliflower depends on your taste preferences (to be honest, I overcooked mine, which made it mushy)
1 small onion, sliced thinly
a few mixed greens, finely chopped (optional - it lends a nice flavour to the dish)
curry spices: I make my own with crushed garlic, cumin seed, chili pepper, turmeric and freshly grated ginger, something I learnt to do in New Zealand and have not changed my mix since that time
some soaked boiled chickpea
salt and pepper
some olive oil




Heat some olive oil in a low frying pan. Add the curry spices and cook till the garlic is translucent (about 1 minute). Then add the onion and allow it to wilt. Add the cauliflower and allow to heat through. Then add the mixed greens (if using) and chickpeas. Again, allow to heat through before seasoning.

Enjoy the dish with some crusty bread, some cheese and olives and a bit of wine. What could be simpler - as long as you have done your homework, that is!

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Married fava (Φάβα παντρεμένη)

I know I'm bragging when I tell you that I'm up to date with every single one of my tax, utilities and other bills, because put together, these days, they make hefty amounts, and my guess is that most honest people are still wondering how to make all those unfair payments. It's still hot in Hania and it still hasn't really rained here save a few drops of drizzle, so I can be thankful that we don't have to turn on the wood fire heater yet, and many of my colleagues are praying for this weather to continue so that they can save on heating costs too.

One way I have managed to continue to be up to date with all those bills is to cook really cheap food jazzed up with very tasty garden vegetables. My cheap food always gets noshed up really quickly because it's very tasty, even though it may not look like a feast to begin with. But the smells emanating from my kitchen don't give any hint of cheapness or low quality - it makes my family even more impatient to eat.

Take last Sunday when I was cooking fava to have ready for Monday's main meal. The aroma in the peas' sweetness wanted through the house; instead of having the tsigariasto meat dish that I had prepared for the Sunday lunch, the family ended up eating half of Monday's lunch instead.

"But it's Sunday," I complained. "Sunday is meat day, you can't eat that fava!"

"We'll just have that meat tomorrow instead," they all insisted. So fava it was, even though bean dishes are usually Never Never on a Sunday for us. And since it didn't feel right to serve such a cheap and frugal humble dish on a Sunday, I jazzed it up with a sivrasi medley of onions, foraged capers and garden peppers, which turned my simple fava dish into fava pantremeni ('married' split yellow peas - φάβα παντρεμένη), a popular way to serve fava in the Cyclades. The married effect comes from combining capers and yellow split peas, which make a very compatible pair.

Apart from some crusty bread, you also need some extra virgin olive oil - as much as you like - which is usually used as a dressing over fava. Luckily, that remains cheap and Greek and frugal where I am.

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Cheap 'n' Greek 'n' frugal: Red pepper chickpea stew (Ρεβύθια με κόκκινη πιπεριά)

The summer garden is almost over, but the peppers are continuing to do very well. We've had all colours and sizes, except hot (chili) peppers, which is a shame, as they would have been fun preserving for the winter months ahead. Heat in food is not a desirable element in Greek cooking: individuals may add heat if desired, but not the cook. Even though our peppers are not hot, each different variety has its own special taste. The red and yellow ones came out sweet, the green ones piquant, and the little green banana peppers were spicy. The light green horn-shaped peppers had a lighter taste than the green ones, whle the red horn-shaped peppers were sweeter than the bell-shaped peppers.

During the summer, we ate very few bean dishes, as we had a garden full of fresh food. Now that the summer garden has nearly packed up for the season and the weather is (only slightly) cooler, it's back to bean stews. With the dearth of tomatoes and a plethora of peppers, I decided to make a peppery chickpea stew, using red peppers as the base. It was a hit with the family, who were surprised that the colour of the stew came solely form the peppers - although they thought it was tomato, there wasn't a single tomato in it!

This recipe is probably more suited to people who grow their own vegetables, because the quantity of peppers used in it is more up to the individual. I used as many as I thought were needed to make the stew look like a tomato-based one.

You need:
a 500g packet of chickpeas
1-2 large onions roughly chopped in large chunks
2-3 cloves of garlic finely minced
a good few glugs of olive oil (this dish tastes better oily; use at least half-to-one cup)
some red peppers - the more, the tastier - roughly chopped in large chunks (I used about 10 medium-sized horn-shaped)
a handful of rice
salt and pepper
a teaspoon of smoked paprika
some lemon juice

Soak the chickpeas overnight. The next day, drain the chickpeas and bring them to the boil in a large pot with fresh water. Boil the beans for 5 minutes, then drain the water, rinse the peas and place them in the pot again with fresh water. Cook till quite soft (this will take some time), then drain them and set them aside.

Clean the pot you used to boil the chickpeas. Pour in some olive oil and add the onion and garlic. Saute till transparent. Add the red peppers and coat them well in oil. Add the chickpeas, and coat them well in the oil, too. (That's why you need a good few glugs of oil to make this dish.) Mix everything well together and then add enough water to cover the pot up to 1cm above the beans. Let the pot cook covered for at least half an hour. Turn off the heat and allow the stew to cool down slightly. Then skim off the peppers and onions (they will be floating at the top of the stew) and puree them in a blender, together with some chickpeas. Add this puree together with the smoked paprika to the stew; stir well.

At this point, the stew can be left until it is time to serve it (I usually make it at night and serve it the next day). It can be served as is, or with some rice added to it. The rice can be cooked separately, and then added to the stew, or (as I prefer to do it) the stew can be heated and the raw rice added to it, so that it cooks in the stew. It will need about 15 minutes to cook - be sure to stir the pot so that the rice doesn't stick to the bottom.

Serve this dish with lemon juice sprinkled over it. It pairs well with cheese and bread.

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Cheap 'n' Greek 'n' frugal: End of season stew (Χόρτα τσιγαρισατά)

You know autumn is on its way when August temperatures remains 30C the whole day and there's a slight cool breeze blowing, and it gets dark before 8.30pm, ...



... and the fig and grapes are in full swing, ...



... and the zucchini, corn, beans and purslane have come to the end of their growing season.

Another end-of summer season meal in a Cretan farmer's household contains the tender tops of the overgrown zucchini bushes, which carry on sprouting. Once you are ready to pull them out, you cut off the only the tenderest shiny green bits, together with any healthy-looking flowers and all the zucchini, even the tiny ones that have just come up close to the top. These are used as a kind of summer horta, and they are cooked in tomato sauce, along with other summer end-of-season greens, like vlita (amaranth), glistrida (purslane), and beans. The are cooked in a similar fashion to the dish I cooked yesterday.

My mother-in-law taught me how to make this dish; the photo below shows her version of it. She's a perfectionist, which is why she cheated in making it: she asked us to buy her some beans, so not everything is from our own garden produce. I like my frugal meals to be literally frugal - all I'm going to buy when I make this meal is the bread to go with it.

Tsigariasta horta - above: my mother in law's version; below: my version (served with roast bifteki and potatos)

Braised greens (Τσιγαριαστά χόρτα)

Boil a bunch of vlita (amaranth greens) and a bunch of zucchini plant tops twice in fresh water (to remove bitterness). Heat half a cup of olive oil, saute a chopped onion and some chopped garlic, add the drained greens, a few zucchini flowers (remove pisitls), some tiny zucchini (from the zucchini plants you topped), a handful of beans and some corn (optional). Toss to coat in oil, then add two cups of fresh pureed tomato (I make my own tomato sauce instead for this), some salt and pepper. Cook for at least an hour on the lowest heat. I served this dish with roast potatoes and biftekia.

Tsigariasta horta (stewed greens in a red sauce) are a bit of an acquired taste. But this dish are also a kind of celebratory meal. You only have it once a year - when you pull out all the zucchini. And then, you know it's time to plant something new.

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Cheap 'n' Greek 'n' frugal: Gardener's end-of-season delight ('Ολα του κήπου)

We're in the middle of renovating our house, so most of the time, I am surrounded by sights like this one:

According to my husband, due to the extremely heavy winter we faced last year, the problems in the construction of our 25-year-old house became apparent this year. It rained so much, that the iron-reinforced support beams cracked and the concrete and stucco work had to be redone, now in the summer when it's very dry, so that the rain won't seep intot he house this winter and make the walls mouldier than they already are. But the house won't be painted or redone indoors - until next summer, we will have to be content with a clean exterior while the interior mould stays on the walls, to give the bad weather a chance to for us to see if we actually did re-concrete the exterior adequately.

During times like these, one needs to be able to cook easily and thriftily - renovations are not cheap during this time, when we are being asked to pay a new and/or high tax every month till Christmas...
Like yesterday's meal, today's came straight out of the garden.

The bean stalks produced a ton of snake beans this season. Most of these I shelled, adding some coloured bell peppers, onion, garlic and potatoes, which were all cooked in my rich spicy tomato sauce. The stew took a couple of hours on low heat to cook.

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Cheap 'n' Greek 'n' frugal: Lentil stew (Φακές)

Prices are in euro (valid in Hania). All ingredients are Greek or locally sourced; those marked with * are considered frugal here because they are cheap and/or people have their own supplies.

Lentil stew (or soup - it can be made into either, using the same ingredients) - commonly known as 'fa-KIES' in Greek, is eaten as frequently as fasolada, the Greek national bean dish. It's easier and quicker to make than fasolada, which is why I like making it. It's always the first meal I make when we return from a long trip away from home, because it's so easy to make - you can unpack your suitcases, put a load of washing on and get over jet lag or place/climate changes while it's cooking. All the ingredients needed to make it are pantry staples. As a stew, it simply gets better when left overnight. And it will be left overnight,because, just like fasolada, you never make enough for only one serving, so you'll have more time to rest after your holiday.

You need:
a few glugs of olive oil
400g-500g brown lentils (Greek-grown lentils cost about €2)
1 large onion*
2 cloves of garlic*
400g pureed tomato (I use my home-made tomato sauce)*
salt, pepper and oregano to taste*

Finely chop the onion and garlic. Wash the lentils and drain them. Heat the oil in a large pot, place all the ingredients in it, add plenty of water (twice the volume of the ingredients), and cover the pot. Cook on the lowest heat for two-three hours. I went to the supermarket to stock up on fresh food while my fakies were cooking.

My cutlery, crockery and clock are all family heirlooms from my NZ years.

We like our lentils like a stew. If you prefer them to be a soup, just add more water (to your plate or the pot) and mix till well blended. We had our lentil stew with classic Greek bakery bread, some slivers of Dutch herbed cheese which I'd bought at Zaanse Schans, and avocado dip sprinkled with smoked paprika powder (a present from a friend in Holland).

Total cost of the meal for four people (served twice): about €3, together with the cheese; about 40 cents per serving.

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Cheap 'n' Greek 'n' frugal: Vegan soutzoukakia (Nηστίσιμα σουτζουκάκια)

Prices are in euro (valid in Hania). All ingredients are Greek or locally sourced; those marked with * are considered frugal here because they are cheap and/or people have their own supplies.  

Soutzoukakia are a long-standing favorite Greek meal. They are a fiddly dish to make, requiring at least two cooking techniques: one for frying (or grilling) the meatballs, and another to make the sauce. At the end of the process, the two are combined. They certainly aren't vegan. But once you make these vegan ones, I believe you might be convinced never to make meat-based ones again.



I came across some black beans (imported from Thailand) at a small Athens supermarket a while ago when I last visited.  I've never come across this kind of legume before, so I decided to buy a packet just to try them out. But If your culinary repertoire doesnt include something, then it's hard to fit it in with your regular cooking schedule. The beans were kept in a dark corner of my pantry until I recently unearthed them and remembered a suggestion by a reader for vegan burgers using black beans. Their colour gives them a natural meaty appearance when mashed. When combined with the appropriate mix of spices, they easily pass off as fake meat. I've used beans to make fake mince before, but this time, with the black beans, it was much tastier.

For the meatballs, you need:
100g dried black soya beans (or any other bean you prefer: to keep it Greek, I would use a mixture of black-eyed beans and lentils, at a cost of mot much more than 50 cents)
a small cup of dry breadcrumbs (10 cents)
a large onion*
2 cloves of garlic*
a few sprigs of parsley*
a few sprigs on mint*
half a cup of thick tomato sauce* (I use my own home-made stuff)
2-3 tablespoons of olive oil*
cumin, paprika, salt and pepper*
some oil for shallow frying*

For the sauce, you need:
half a cup of tomato sauce (bottled or home-made)*
salt and pepper*

Soak the black beans overnight. Boil for half an hour; you don't want them too tender, so that they keep their nutty taste. Drain and rinse the beans. Place them in a strainer to dry off. Then place them in a blender, together with the peeled onion and garlic, breadcrumbs, herbs and seasonings. Pulse until the mixture resemblesfine grains. 

Pour the contents of the blender into a bowl and add the tomato sauce and oil. Mix together; you will get a firm dough. Shape it into short fat sausages (the usual shape of soutzoukakia). Heat some oil in a pan and shallow-fry the soutzoukakia, making sure to brown them all over. They don't need much cooking time, just enough to brown and heat. Remove them from the pan onto a serving plate and set aside (no need to drain them on paper towels: the olive oil is the only fat in the recipe).

If you don't mind the burnt bean crumbs in your oil, add the tomato sauce to the same pan that you fried the soutzoukakia in. Otherwise, try to remove as many of them as you can. (You can drain the same oil to clear it into another pan, but you will have to do more cleaning - I don't call that fun.) Add the tomato sauce and seasonings, and cook on moderate heat for 5-10 minutes to thicken the sauce. Pour the sauce over the soutzoukakia.

 I served my vegan soutzoukakia with my home-made tangy apricot chutney. It's not really a very Greek combinaiton, but it turned out well.

Voila - your soutzoukakia are ready: no fuss, no bother. Imagine eating such a meal during lent. Serve the soutzoukakia with crsuty bread to mop up the sauces, a green salad and some wine. So good, so cheap: it's can't get better than this.

Total cost as a main meal (serves 4): about 1-2 euro, depending on the cost of the tomato sauce.

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Cheap 'n' Greek 'n' frugal: Vegan sausages (Λουκάνικα νηστίσιμα)

Prices are in euro (valid in Hania). All ingredients are Greek or locally sourced; those marked with * are considered frugal here because they are cheap and/or people have their own supplies.  

 "Sausages from beans?" was the title of an article by Orestis Thavias in last month's Gastronomos. Not that I have a problem with eating the regular carnivorous version, but I was intrigued to find a recipe for vegan sausages in a Greek foodie magazine, a supplement of the Sunday Kathimerini. The article did not hint at any sign of the times (eg a mention of the crisis), but was talking about an alternative lifestyle, as if nothing is in disarray...

The author is a dedicated vegetarian, but he is honest with his readers. It's not easy to be and stay vegetarian by choice (ie other than medical reasons), because vegetarians eventually come to the realisation that they miss both the unique umami taste and the texture of meat, as well as the feeling of fullness that meat gives you, We aren't born to be vegetarians, we become one by choice, but even then, we don't forget our past preferences so easily.

The writer says that it took him about a decade to realise that he was no longer tempted by the burnt-pan aroma of a meat dish. Before that, he needed 'help' to get over it. He provides a very basic recipe for something he calls 'different' sausages, made with beans (for protein) and breadcrumbs, tomato puree (to bind) and onions (for the umami taste), and some herbs and spices (for more flavour). He admits that his tasty 'sausages' are not really convincing when compared to mass-produced meat substitutes for vegans/vegetarians (available mainly - only?? - at organic shops in Greece), which provides further evidence that we are not born for this kind of life.

Having said that, vegan sausages can be made very cheaply at home, and if I may says so myself, they can be very tasty. The ready prepared food vegans/vegetarians can buy at organic shops in Greece are probably very expensive, not because they are made with cheap ingredients, but, as is common in Greece, such items are imported, in the same way that the vegetarian/vegan lifestyle has been imported to Greece. It's just not Greek to be vegetarian all year round, is it?

 

But home-made vegan sausages do have one good point about them, and that is that they constitute a very cheap and frugal dish, and they can be very Greek in taste and origin too. My recipe is a variation of the one that I found in Gastronomos. Most of my cheap'n'greek'n'frugal recipes are much simpler than this one, but when you're living without meat, you need to make sure you're eating something healthy as well as tasty.

To make Greek-tasting vegan sausages for four people, you need:
100g black eyed beans (~ 25 cents)
1/2 cup breadcrumbs (~ 5 cents; you can also make your own by collecting the dregs left over from a packet of paximathi or friganies - which aren't cheap to buy - or even your own breadcrumbs)
1 large onion*
1/2 cup tomato puree* (I use own home-made one)
a few sprigs of parsley*
a few sprigs of basil* (I used mint from the garden)
some dried oregano*
a sprinkling of cumin powder* (to make your vegan sausages smell like soutzoukakia)
some red pepper (to make your fake meat smell like souvlaki)
salt and freshly ground pepper*

Soak the beans overnight. Drain, boil in fresh water till tender (about 30 minutes), drain again. Place the beans, onion, tomato, herbs and seasonings in a small blender and mix till a soft doughy mixture is formed. Mix in the breadcrumbs and shape into sausages (or balls or patties). Place in the fridge to allow them to become firm. To cook them, roll them in flour (being careful when lifting them off the plate so that they do not break) and shallow-fry in a pan with some olive oil until well-browned.The flour will make them look singed - you can try cooking them without the flour but they may break.

I also made a vegetarian (rather than vegan) version by adding some mizithra cheese. You can also add an egg to give them a fuller more satisfying taste. I served this meal with some bread crusts (my mother-in-law was making skorthalia) and an amazing hot sweet and sour spicy cabbage and fennel bulb dish - another cheap and Greek and frugal meal. NB: This kind of meal doesn't give you a full feeling in your stomach, so you will want to eat a lot.

Total cost of meal: about 1 euro, 25 cents a serving among four people.

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Cheap 'n' Greek 'n' frugal: Fava (Φάβα)

Prices are in euro (valid in Hania). All ingredients are Greek or locally sourced; those marked with * are considered frugal here because they are cheap and/or people have their own supplies.  

One of the simplest grain dishes in traditional Greek cuisine is fava. Greek fava mustn't be confused with the meaning of the same word in other cultures; in Greece, fava is made with yellow split peas, not broad beans (κουκιά - koukia), which are also known as fava beans. fava needs very few cooking skills to make, and it's easy to digest. Its one fo the first legume dishes that children try.

Despite being a staple traditional Greek taverna dish, the fava pea is often imported. Greek fava is also sold alongside imported fava, and it's only slightly more expensive. Fava is well known in the cuisine of the island of Santorini, as a special kind of fava bean has been grown there, without irrigation, continuously for 3500 years. It's not easy to find this variety outside the island, and it's rather expensive. But don't fret: cheaper Greek-gron fava can be had - it's grown in an area of Corinth called Feneos, which is connected with Greece's ancient history. It's available at most supermarkets, especially now when Greek consumers are more aware of choosing Greek products over imported items.

I've always found it strange that fava is such a popular taverna favorite, as it is so easy to make. I often wonder if people eating it at a taverna don't cook it at home - or do they love it so much that they eat it everywhere all the time?! Greek fava looks very much like a dip rather than a one-dish meal, but most of the time, Greeks eat it as a meal at home, while it is usually a side dish at a taverna.

Fava is sold in 500g packets - that's a  lot of fava. But I still cook up the whole packet: one day, I will serve fava as the main lunch meal; the leftovers will form a side dish with the next day's meal.

You need: 
500g split dried yellow peas (~2.00 euro)
1 cup olive oil*
3 large onions (1 euro, including those you use for garnish)
salt and pepper*
For garnish: olive oil, finely chopped onion, parsley (carrot and celery sticks are also good when the meal is a side dish rather than a main meal)

Pour the packet of fava into a pot and cover it with water. Boil the fava for thirty minutes, then drain the water away and let the fava stand for half an hour for the peas to swell a little. Drain and rinse them, and toss in the roughly chopped onions, oil and seasonings (it's that simple). Cover the ingredients with water, to level up to 2cm above the peas. Bring the pot to the boil over moderate heat, turn down the heat to a low simmering point and let the fava boil away until all the water has evaporated and the peas have gone soft and mushy. NB: the beans will stick to the pot if you forget to stir them.

At this stage, you can put the mixture into a blender and turn it into a smooth paste, or leave as it is for a crunchier texture (I prefer the latter). Pour the mixture into individual plates and sprinkle with the garnishes. Fava can be served hot or cold, or warmed up the next day. Most people add a lot of olive oil to their own dish, but that depends on how fanatically devoted to the liquid you are. When serving fava as a side dish rather than a main meal, it is good with sausages or some other spicy grilled meat or fish.

For a slight twist to the garnishes, try sauteeing the onions in the olive oil garnish and adding some capers to them, before sprinkling them onto the fava. That's called φάβα παντρεμένη (fava pantremeni - 'married' fava). It's still cheap and Greek and frugal, and it won't cost you any more than using the raw garnishes!

Total cost of meal: about 3.00 euro - 500g of fava will yield about 6 average-sized main-meal portions (about 0.50 cents per person), or 10 dip-sized plates.


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Cheap 'n' Greek 'n' frugal: Chickpea and spinach soup (Ρεβιθάδα)

Prices are in euro (valid in Hania). All ingredients are Greek or locally sourced; those marked with * are considered frugal here because they are cheap and/or people have their own supplies.  

Beans always make a good cheap comforting meal in winter. Chickpeas (maybe you call them garbanzo) are grown in Greece, but most chickpeas sold here are actually imported. AB Vasilopoulos sells a Greek variety of chickpeas grown in Larissa. The Greek 3A company also sells a Greek-grown chickpea, but it also sells imported chickpeas in different packaging. So if you want your chickpeas to be Greek, just look for the 100% Greek flag symbol on the packet. They are a little more expensive than imported chickpeas, but beans are generally a cheap commodity.

Chickpeas are a nuisance to cook because they really do need to be soaked the night before you use them, so this dish will need some forward planning (although I have been told that they cook well on the same day that you use them in a pressure cooker). As with all beans, I cook enough for two meals, becaus ethey require a long cooking time. I would serve this dish for lunch on a Wednesday and Friday because it's lenten, cooking something else for Thursday, so no one complains that they've been eating the same food two days in a row.

You need:
a 500g packet of chickpeas (~2 euro)
1 large onion* finely chopped
2-3 cloves of garlic* finely minced
a good few glugs of olive oil* (this dish tastes better oily; use at least half-one cup)
a bunch of spinach (~40 cents), chopped finely
a handful of rice (~20 cents)
the juice of one lemon*

Soak the chickpeas overnight. The next day, drain the chickpeas and bring them to the boil in a large pot with fresh water. Boil the beans for 5 minutes, then drain the water, rinse the peas and place them in the pot again with fresh water. Cook till quite soft, then drain them and set them aside.

Clean the pot you used to boil the chickpeas. Pour in some olive oil and add the onion and garlic. Saute till transparent. Add the spinach and coat it well in oil. Add some more olive oil and the chickpeas, and coat them well in the oil, too. (That's why you need a good few glugs of oil to make this dish.) Mix everything well together and then add enough water to cover the pot up to 1cm above the beans. Let the pot cook covered for at least half an hour, then add the rice. Stir it in and cover the pot again. Allow the rice to cook till done. Stir in the lemon juice. The dish is ready to serve now or the next day.

I make this dish in the evening, ready to serve the next day for lunch. Stewed beans have this advantage of tasting better the next day. Sometimes I add rice, other times I don't. At any rate, this dish will be eaten over two days in an average-sized family. You can serve the beans without the rice on the first day, and cook them with rice the next time you serve them. The dish will keep well (and mature) in the fridge.

Total cost of meal: about 3 euro; it yields 8 servings. For a family of four, served with some bread and cheese, each serving amounts to much less than 1 euro.

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