On a gloomy, rainy day like today. I wish I were back in Greece. A mystical land where rain can be rightfully compared to Excalibur, which only the chosen ones can use to slice through the crippling dry heat. Islands (I spent more time on the islands than the cities so I can only speak from experience) as a whole stare at the weather segment chanting for rain and playfully mocking cities or islands who aren't as fortunate. Actually I take that back, rain is akin to a football (soccer) team minus the crazy riots.
The whole of the islands, expect tourist shops, close between 12 noon- 6pm. Something I wish people told me when I was in Greece: you'll need three bottles of water at any given point in time: a drinking bottle, a body bottle to pour all over yourself, and a backup bottle. The stores and just about everything else is closed for a reason. Unfortunately, the monuments and museums still observe the usual hours 10am-6pm. In the evening, almost the entire island depending of course on size (for example, Corfu is significantly larger than Paxos) can be seen on the pier, which is lined with most of the restaurants/pubs, pastry shops, benches, beaches, and sometimes fairs or carnivals.
Memories of Greece instantly bring back the taste of the Nescafe Frappes and Greek Salads. An amazing summer drink that might give a frappuccino a run for its money, or at least the entire Greek nation believes so.
Simply described it is a frothy iced coffee without any of the caramel, chocolate, strawberry, pumpkin, orange "syrup perversions," said an Athenian restaurateur. He also explained in detail the intricacies of how to make this drink. I knew better than to interrupt, he meant business: his cafe was filled with coffee shakers and coffee glasses embossed with Nescafe. Naturally, I grabbed a slice of Spanakopita (spinach and feta filo pastry) and lazy took notes as he spoke.
Here's what he had to say, more or less:
"You must use Nescafe instant coffee. It is the only one that works." About 2 spoons (he used what looked like a slim dessert spoon so roughly the size of a teaspoon)
1-2 teaspoons of sugar
A splash of water (about 4-5 tablespoons)
Add of the above (coffee, sugar, water) to a martini shaker. He had a Nescafe Frappe Shaker that look exactly like a martini shaker so a martini shaker I shall use. Shake vigorously for about a minute. If you are a fancy Greek man you can juggle and gyrate around a bit since you've probably consumed 5-6 frappes in the last hour.
Throw some ice cubes into tall glass. Pour the foamy coffee into the glass. Add milk to about a third of the glass. Add water to fill up the glass. When you are done, the foam should be at the very top.
Don't try to make the frappe in a pitcher to share. The froth is what makes or breaks this drink and pouring it into separate glasses will ruin the froth. In Greece if you are at a sit down cafe or restaurant, the Frappe is served with a glass of water.
You can garnish the top with ground instant coffee. I've seen some cafes use stencils to create some interesting images on top of the frappes. Given the heat and thirst factor these don't last long enough to document.
Frappes while wildly delicious were not enough to sustain an entire diet. Every now and then I did actually did hungry and craved something beyond the frappe. Luckily, Greece is very kind to their vegetarians. I tried stuffed bell peppers with feta cheese, aubergines (eggplant) moussaka, olives, Yigandes Plaki (white beans, sautéed vegetables swimming in a tangy tomato sauce), dolmatas (stuffed grape leaves), hummus and tzatziki with pita wedges, tons of roasted nuts for snacks, and fresh fruits galore, and of course many variations of salads including the legendary Greek Salad.
I’m not here to instigate a debate on what constitutes a Horiatiki Salata (Greek Salad). Some people add peppers, others use different types of tomatoes, some use infused olive oil, others less kind to the dishwashers in the back served the olives in a different plate entirely, and some insist on using basil (I was told is was borderline sacrilegious. It’s Greece for heaven sakes not Rome). Based on all the versions I’ve tasted, all in the name of investigative science, here’s what they all had in common: extremely succulent, juice chilled tomatoes, crunchy cucumbers, spicy onions, and pump tangy olives. Everything else varies based on taste and sometimes aesthetic principles or so they claim.
The basic Greek Salad goes something like this:
4 tomatoes on the vine (they tend to be juicier), in wedges
1-2 cucumber, scrubbed but not peeled, diced (I prefer Israeli cucumbers)
1/2 thinly sliced red onion
Kalmata Olives
Feta cheese, to taste (Fresh is better, it comes still soaking in whey. The texture is on the outside is a close to a soft goat cheese and the inside still crumbles.)
Salt
Dried Oregano
Extra Virgin Olive Oil, cold pressed (the ones in the dark bottles taste better)
Throw the tomatoes, cucumbers, onions and olives into a bowl. Sprinkle a pinch of salt and dried oregano for seasoning. Add sliced or crumbled feta cheese. Drizzle the oil generously last.
My favorite part of the salad is soaking up the seasoned olive oil (towards the end of the salad it embraces all the flavors in the salad) at the bottom of the plate with a few slices of the super porous, spongy regional bread. Paired off with a local white wine served from a plastic two-liter bottle (very much like our water bottle. The theory behind this is “we drink our wine fresh today or tomorrow, why waste money on a pretty glass bottle. We don’t drink the bottle. Sounds fair enough.) or of course with a chilled frappe, shaken not stirred (preferably by a hot Greek man).
I'm enjoying my views:
Local Colorful Boats docked in Paxos:
Myrtos Beach:
Sanctuary of Apollo in Delphi:
Corfu:
Somewhere on the Ionia Sea:
