And a side dish of carrots

I would love to tell you how this dish will change the way you view carrots forever. I would love to tell you how this dish was a revelation for a non carrot-loving person like myself. I would even love to tell you how the taste of carrots in this dish is something you have never, ever, tasted before.






But, no. I'm not going to tell you any of these things, because they simply would not be true.






What I am going to tell you is that if you're looking for a good vegetable side dish for your Christmas, New Year's, (or Festivus) dinner that tastes fantastic and is not going to bore you to death, then look no further.






Listen, I'm not the kind of person who serves side dishes just for the sake of serving them or just for the sake of filling up a dinner table. I'm the kind of person who, particularly at special occasions, I want to enjoy every single mouthful.






Every dish I put on the table has to be worth it and believe me, this is totally worth the twenty to twenty-five minutes it'll take you to prepare and cook. Yes, you don't need more than that, which of course leaves you with ample time to focus your attention on the other, more intricate dishes you're planning to make.






And as far as the flavor goes, imagine sweet, young, winter carrots glazed in luscious thyme honey, glistening under good melted butter, having the pungency of grained mustard and the delicate sourness of lemon. It is obvious that balance is key here, which is certainly achieved, but what is paramount, is enjoyment. So enjoy!










Thyme Honey-Glazed Carrots with Whole Grain Mustard and Lemon

I hate categorizing foods and saying that this dish is for Christmas, that is for Easter etc. This is simply a great side dish. You can make it anytime you want a side of vegetables to accompany a big, juicy steak, your favorite meatballs, or fish.

I use very young and rather small and thin carrots for this dish, which means that I don't boil them before I glaze/caramelize them. In case your carrots are bigger and thicker, boil them first for 6-7 minutes and then continue the process as in the recipe below.
Also, I don't like my carrots too soft, I want them to have some bite, so I don't cook them for too long. That is all a matter of preference of course. So, taste as you go along and cook them according to your own textural preference.

I always use thyme honey but you can use any other type of honey you have on hand.






Yield: 4-6 servings

Ingredients
500 g carrots (small, conical and thin ones)
125 g unsalted butter
1 Tbsp thyme honey (or any other runny honey)
1 tsp whole grain mustard (I used Maille à l' Ancienne)
2 Tbsp lemon juice, freshly squeezed
Salt
Lemon zest, freshly grated (from 1 lemon)


Preparation
Remove the green leaves from the carrots, leaving some greens still attached. Wash them well under cold running water and peel them.

In a small bowl, add the honey, the mustard and the lemon juice and stir well until combined.

Place the carrots in a large and wide skillet, in one layer. Add the butter and heat over medium-high heat. When the butter has almost melted, pour the honey-mustard-lemon juice mixture over the carrots and add salt to taste. Allow the carrots to cook for about 20 minutes over medium heat, until they soften and caramelize, making sure to turn them every now and then in order to cook evenly.

When they are ready, remove them from the pan and arrange them on a platter. Pour some of the melted butter-mustard sauce on top and garnish with lemon zest.

You can prepare them in advance and reheat them when you want to serve them.

Sofigado, the Greek sweet and sour beef stew

There are some fruits that have an instant allure, a certain something that attracts your senses either by the way they smell, the way they look or even by the way they feel when you touch them. Strawberries, cherries and persimmons are such fruit.






And then there are other fruits, the "ugly" ones, those that don't have much going for them at first glance. You need to get to know them in order to appreciate what they can really do for you or for one of your dishes. Such fruits are quinces.






Unassuming, rather unappealing fruit that can become so much more just by adding some sugar to them and boiling them, thus creating the amazing quince paste, or by sautéing them in lots of butter to accompany a steak, or caramelizing them and serving them with a winter ice cream. But where they actually shine is in dishes like this one, a traditional Greek island dish called Sofigado.






This dish comes from the beautiful, green island of Lefkada located in the Ionian Sea, off the west coast of Greece. Sofigado is a rich, sweet and sour beef stew with quinces and petimezi (grape-must syrup) and its history, much like Pastitsada's, is rooted in the times of Venetian occupation.






It's a pretty straightforward winter stew but with extraordinary flavors and some unique ingredients. As it always happens in Greek cooking, it all starts with olive oil and onions. Lots of onions which, after the meat has been browned in the oil, are sautéed until soft and translucent. Then the meat goes back in the pan and garlic, tomato paste, red wine vinegar and fresh rosemary are introduced to the mix.






The beef is stewed until succulent and then the quinces are added, as well as the petimezi. I have my friend Kiki to thank for a bottle of fresh petimezi that she sent me a couple of months ago (as she did last year, which back then gave me the chance to make Greek moustokouloura cookies). Thanks Kiki!






After twenty minutes or so, when the quinces have softened but still retain their crunch, when the petimezi has permeated the meat and a rich sauce has been created, the stew is ready. Ready to be savored. You'll rarely find such a combination of sweet and sour flavors in traditional Greek cooking, especially when it comes to beef dishes.






The experience of tasting Sofigado resembles that of a rollercoaster. The sweet flavor of the petimezi and quince, reminiscent of the spoon sweets that Greek grandmothers make, hits you first and then the sourness of the fruit becomes the prominent flavor. The umami-ness of the meat comes to balance out all the flavors and the ride goes on and on until you suddenly end up with an empty plate, asking for more.











Sofigado Lefkaditiko (Greek Beef Stew with Quinces and Grape-Must Syrup from Lefkada)

Greeks always choose veal over beef, we don’t particularly enjoy the mature flavor of beef, but you can use either.

Sofigado can be enjoyed by the whole family as an everyday meal but is also elegant enough to become part of a festive holiday meal or a dinner party.

You can accompany it with rice or mashed potatoes for a festive or special meal, and with French fries or a big green salad for an everyday meal.
You can either use beef or veal in this dish.
For those of you living in The Netherlands, the meat you should use is runderriblap.

In traditional Greek cuisine, onions are usually grated in a box grater rather than chopped. This gives a different texture to the resulting sauces, making them thicker and richer. If you can't bother grating the onions in this recipe, you can whiz them in the food processor until they are almost puréed.

The beauty of this dish is in its sweet and sour flavors and contrasting textures of tender, succulent beef in a rich sauce and juicy, soft yet firm quinces.
The more ripe and fragrant the quinces, the better they are for this dish. If they're not ripe, their taste will be too sour, but don't worry, you can rectify that by adding extra petimezi at the end.

You can find petimezi (grape-must syrup / grape molasses) in Greek or Middle Eastern stores.






Yield: 4-6 main-course servings

Ingredients
1 - 1.2 kg boneless beef or veal stewing steak like chuck steak
120 ml good quality olive oil
2 medium-sized red onions (about 250 g), grated
40 ml red-wine vinegar
7 medium-sized garlic cloves, peeled
1 Tbsp tomato paste
Freshly ground black pepper
2 fresh sprigs of rosemary
Pinch of sugar
330-350 ml hot water
Salt
3 large quinces (1 - 1.1 kg), peeled and cut into wedges
100 ml petimezi (grape-must syrup / grape molasses)

Special equipment: pan or Dutch oven with a 5 - 5.5 liter capacity, box grater or food processor


Preparation
Take the meat and cut with a knife the large pieces of fat off, leaving a fair amount of fat on in order to flavor the dish. Cut the meat into pieces, about 6x6 cm each. Place them on paper towels and pat them dry. This is an important step because the meat will not brown properly if it's damp.

In a large, deep, heavy-bottomed pan or preferably in a Dutch oven, add the olive oil and heat over medium-high heat. When it starts to shimmer, add enough beef pieces to cover 2/3 of the bottom of the pan (do not overcrowd the pan because the beef will boil rather than brown) and brown the pieces on both sides. Remove pieces from the pan and place them in a bowl. Brown the rest of the beef pieces in the same manner and place them in the bowl.


Add the grated onions to the pan and sauté them on medium heat for about 4 minutes until they soften and become translucent. Return the browned beef pieces to the pan, along with the juices accumulated in the bowl you kept them in, and add the red-wine vinegar. Stir well with a spatula or spoon and add the garlic cloves, tomato paste, freshly ground black pepper, rosemary sprigs and a pinch of sugar and stir well. Add the hot water (hot so the cooking process won't stop) and stir well. Put the lid on and let it come to the boil. Then turn the heat down to the lowest setting and let the meat stew for 1 - 1 ½ hours or until it is tender (keep in mind though that it'll cook for a further 25 minutes when you add the quinces). Check the meat every 20 minutes or so, stirring it around a bit.

Then, remove the rosemary sprigs (the leaves would have fallen in the sauce) and add salt. The reason you're adding the salt now is because if you add it at the beginning of the cooking process, the beef will become tough and chewy. Add the quinces and the petimezi to the pan and stir well with a spatula or spoon. The quinces must be almost covered with liquid in order to cook, so if there's not enough liquid in your pan, add a bit of hot water. Put the lid back on and allow beef and quinces to simmer for about 25 minutes, stirring every now and then (not with a spatula or spoon, but by holding the pan by its handles and moving it around in circular motions so that everything gets stirred. You're doing that so that you don't break up the quinces. You don't want them to disintegrate into the sauce. They must remain in whole wedges and not become mushy).
Check the quinces after 15 minutes. It's good to taste them at this point and if they're too sour, you can add a little more petimezi to the pan.

You should end up with tender beef in a rich sauce and soft but not mushy quinces. They should hold their form and add texture to the dish.

Serve hot with your favorite accompaniment and make sure to have lots of bread on the table for dipping it in that delicious sauce.

Sofigado tastes even better the second day.

All I need *

It's strange what I miss being away from home. Besides my family and friends, what I miss the most are the small things. The way the sun shines gloriously in Greece, the way the rain smells when it hits the rocky hills of Athens, the way the sea glistens under the moonlight at Batis beach.






It's the small things in food, too. I miss our sardines and anchovies, they taste like nothing else in the world, my favorite feta, aged in large wooden barrels, that I buy from a shop in my neighborhood, and Miranda biscuits, which I crave when it's really cold outside and all I want is to drink a hot cup of cocoa.






Sure, Holland is famous for its cookies and pastries, but nothing beats Greek Miranda cereal biscuits. When I was little, my mom would make for my brother and me her famous hot cocoa, always with Van Houten, and she'd give us a box of Mirandas. We would use the hot cocoa as a dip, dunking the rectangle-sized biscuits in it, allowing them to soften and then devouring them in one huge bite.






When my mom visited me this past August, among the numerous foodstuff she brought with her, she also brought me Mirandas. Needless to say, I was ecstatic when I saw her taking the boxes of biscuits out of her overstuffed suitcase. My instinct, even if we were in the middle of a heat wave, was to immediately go into the kitchen and make myself a hot cocoa, or better yet, a hot chocolate. And so I did.






I may still be trying to find a recipe for making these Miranda biscuits (and if anyone knows, please share) but I have already found the recipe for my ideal hot chocolate. Not cocoa, chocolate. That's the best.






There's something about pure, dark chocolate melting into hot, steaming milk that gets my taste buds all tingly and excited. When the smell penetrates my nostrils, I'm filled with anticipation for the hot, dark, liquid gold. There's just nothing like it.






Seventy percent chocolate, whole milk, and my secret ingredient, kaimaki (or kaymak). No need for heavy or whipped cream when there's something like kaimaki around, with its rich, creamy texture, to give the hot chocolate that extra-velvety consistency. One tablespoon is enough to make a difference.






Tackling the heavy Dutch winters is not an easy thing. A cup of this hot chocolate drink and a boxful of my favorite biscuits, is all I really need to make it just a little bit easier.






* The writing of this post was accompanied by the music of Air and especially by this song.






Hot Chocolate

I always use 70% chocolate for this drink and of course, the better the quality of the chocolate, the better the quality of the drink. As I always say where chocolate is concerned, make sure you use one whose taste you really like, otherwise you're not going to enjoy the flavor of the drink.

In case you can't find kaimaki where you live (try Middle Eastern stores), you can substitute with clotted cream, crème fraîche or even whipped cream (but it's not going to be the same).

And if you prefer hot cocoa rather than hot chocolate, check this out.






Yield: 2 large (or 4 small) cups

Ingredients
500 ml whole milk
100 g good quality chocolate, 70% (I use Lindt), plus some extra shavings for sprinkling on top
1 Tbsp sugar (or to taste, depending on how sweet you like your chocolate)
2 Tbsp fresh kaimaki


Preparation
Chop the chocolate into small pieces.


In a small saucepan, add the milk and heat over medium heat. When it starts to steam, add the chopped chocolate and stir with a whisk. When the chocolate has melted, add the sugar and stir to dissolve. Don't allow the milk to boil.
Turn the heat off and beat the hot chocolate well with the whisk, in order to create a light foam. Pour immediately into two large cups, add a tablespoon of kaimaki on each cup and sprinkle some chocolate shavings on top.

Enjoy with your favorite biscuits!