Monday, October 15, 2012

The Tyrokafteri

I don't know if I've told you this, even though you may have already guessed it if you've been reading this blog for a while, but I can't live without feta. Feta cheese I mean. It's as simple as that. If someone told me that for some reason I couldn't eat feta, I would fall into deep culinary depression. Not even chocolate would be able to save me.






Don't make fun of me, but whenever I eat Greek cheese pie, which is a pie filled to the brim with feta, I have to have feta on the side, and to further embarrass myself, I'll admit that whenever I eat Chinese, Indian, Japanese or Thai food, I always have a huge piece of feta next to my plate. I'm totally aware that the flavors don't match—somehow I don't think people in Thailand consider feta cheese a staple—but I just can't eat something without having feta on the side.






I don't know why I'm addicted to it, I can't figure it out. One could argue that it's because I'm Greek but, no, there are other Greeks, many Greeks, who prefer other cheeses. I guess it'll remain a mystery. I'm pretty sure some of you empathize with me, though. You too may have some type of food that you just can't part with no matter what. C'mon, admit it.






My whole life I've been enjoying Greek, barrel-aged feta and when I moved to Holland five years ago I knew I'd have a problem. My greatest fear was that I would have to compromise with an inferior type of feta or even worse, imitation feta. Thankfully, I was wrong since I can find Greek feta of excellent quality here, so crisis averted.






Anyway, enough with my feta rumblings. Let's get to this dip/spread. There is a multitude of recipes in Greek cuisine that contain feta but one of my absolute favorites is the mezes called tyrokafteri. Tyrokafteri literally means 'hot cheese' and it's just that. Whipped cheese that is super hot; the heat coming from the addition of either fresh green hot peppers or boukovo, which is Greek dried red chilli flakes.






There are two types of tyrokafteri, the classic white one (aspri) and the other one, the more playful one, the red (kokkini). The white consists mainly of cheese and hot green peppers and it is indeed delicious, otherwise I wouldn't have whipped up some yesterday, nevertheless the red one is the superior of the two. It is far more complex and interesting flavor-wise as it contains long sweet red peppers that add sweetness and level out the heat of the boukovo, Greek strained yoghurt which gives an extra dimension of creaminess, and smoked paprika that adds a depth of flavor and a pleasant smoky quality to the dip.






Slathered on a slice of good sourdough bread or whole-wheat crackers, added in your favorite sandwich, served as a side dish for steaks or biftekia (Greek meat patties), or as a simple dip for crudités or pita, it's one of those Greek classics that should be a part of your repertoire. Tzatziki is not the only delicious Greek dip out there.











Tyrokafteri Kokkini - Greek Feta and Sweet Red Pepper Spicy & Hot Dip
Adapted from Aglaia Kremezi

Tyrokafteri is smooth and creamy but once you put it in the fridge it hardens up, making it difficult to spread. Before you serve it, make sure to leave it out of the fridge for half an hour.
Use good quality Greek feta and if you can find barrel-aged feta, which has a peppery flavor, then the results will be spectacular.






Yield: about 700 g / enough for about 12 people

Ingredients
500 g feta (if you can find different varieties where you live, use medium to soft in texture feta)
80 ml extra virgin olive oil
2 fresh long sweet red peppers (about 220 g), deseeded and roughly chopped
1 tsp boukovo or crushed dried red chilli flakes (or 1½ tsp if you enjoy the heat)
3 heaped Tbsp Greek strained yoghurt, 2% or full-fat (I use Total)
1 tsp red-wine vinegar
1 tsp sweet smoked paprika or sweet paprika

Fresh chives, finely chopped, for garnishing

Special equipment: large food processor


Preparation
Place the feta in a bowl and add enough water from the tap to cover it. Leave it in the water for 15 minutes which will get rid of the saltiness. This process is called in Greek "ksalmirisma" meaning removal of the salt.

In the meantime, add the olive oil to a medium-sized skillet and heat over medium heat. Add the chopped red peppers along with the boukovo and sauté them, stirring regularly, until they soften but don't brown. Take the pan off the heat and let the peppers cool in the pan.


When the 15 minutes have passed, drain the feta from the water, cut it into pieces and place it in the food processor. Add the cooled down peppers, along with all the juices accumulated in the pan, scraping it well, followed by the yoghurt, the vinegar, and the paprika.
Process until you have a smooth and creamy mixture. Give the tyrokafteri a taste and if you find it to be too salty, add a little more yoghurt.

Empty it into a bowl, sprinkle with the chopped chives and serve.

You can serve it immediately or you can place it in the fridge, where you can keep it covered with plastic wrap, for 1 week.





Thursday, October 11, 2012

Inspiration

The last few days have been calm, filled with sunlight, walks around the city, yellow and purple autumn leaves that get stuck under the heel of my shoes and good food at home and elsewhere.

Inspiration is all around me; autumn does that to me.



Close to home. Vredespaleis (Peace Palace) aka International Court of Justice, The Hague



I've been listening to this song non stop.

I discovered instagram a mere week ago. After several months, I decided to use my iphone, one handed down to me by S as he got a new and shiny one to play with. I have an addictive personality so I was reluctant to use it, I knew instagram was going to get the best of me and it did. I'm trying to restrain myself from sharing too many photos. I share one a day. No promises made here, the numbers can go up at any moment. It's a struggle, I tell you.

This photo series by Anna Williams, part of her personal project, The Voracity.

Paris versus New York. I love this site not only because I love the two cities (Paris I've been to several times, going to New York is a dream of mine) but because the concept is so incredibly clever.
Also, now in video.

This is so S and I, it's scary.

And this is the internet, which is also scary.

Loved reading this. Why start a food blog? an excerpt from Luisa Weiss' book, My Berlin Kitchen.

I'm a sucker for an exotic cake and when it comes with a tutorial on how to decorate it, it's even more special.

I'm currently watching Downton Abbey and I have to say, I'm kind of hooked. I still think this was better, though.

I'd love to buy this calendar for the new year. It's coming up rather fast.

Sky monsters.

I owe the discovery of the documentary Jiro Dreams of Sushi to my Japanese friend M. If you like sushi, or even if you don't, you must see it. It's brilliant.

Sources of continuous inspiration has always been other bloggers. The food blogging community is an ever-expanding one and to keep up with it, there's nothing better than a link list (plus it's good karma). I will be adding more blogs to the list whenever I discover new and interesting ones that I believe you'll enjoy as well. So go on, have a look. Some blogs I'm sure you know, some you'll discover now, but what they all have in common is that they deserve a visit from you.
Oh, and if you're Greek, make sure to check the link list on my Greek page for blogs that are written in Greek.

See you soon!


Previously: Inspiration November 2011, March and July 2012.


Sunday, October 7, 2012

At times

As always, I'm not about to stop eating ice cream just because the first rain falls or because I can't go out of my house anymore without putting my jacket and my boots on.






I am and I will always be the one who desperately clings on to the warmer days, the sunnier days, the days when the sun doesn't set at six o' clock and doesn't rise at seven-thirty.






Possibly it's the fact that I'm a Greek living in Northern Europe. I'm programmed to get cold around December and not October. I'm programmed to wear less layers of clothing. I'm programmed to need more sunlight, more warmth, more laughter, more spontaneity, more outgoingness, more of the things I miss here.






I have been eating this ice cream every day this week. It's been a tough week, with hospital visits and doctors and nurses trying to stick needles into arms and time refusing to pass. With waiting rooms and books that keep you company, notebooks filled with random thoughts, ideas that seemed clever at first and quotes you wished could come true.






All is well that ends well, and everything ended well. And then there was ice cream. Because at times, it's one of the things you're looking forward to the most. Getting home from a tough day at work or out in the world, fantasizing about that first spoonful, licking the bowl, the smell of the coffee, the sweetness of the custard, the smoothness, the creaminess, the richness.






This is good ice cream, a proper coffee ice cream with an intense coffee flavor that isn't masked by the sugar and paired with the hazelnut biscotti, the harmony of flavors and textures is simply divine.






Slightly bitter espresso flavor with that aroma of freshly ground coffee hitting you straight away, only to be replaced by the fragrance of butter and orange when you bite into the crispy and luscious biscotti.






And now, if you'll excuse me, I will have one more bowlful of this.











Coffee Ice Cream
Adapted from Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall

This ice cream is made with freshly ground espresso beans. I used mild-flavored beans and I suggest you do the same, since the flavor of the coffee is really pronounced in the ice cream and you don't want it to be overwhelming. It's a dessert after all.






Yield: about 900 g

Ingredients
50 g espresso coffee beans
500 ml whole milk
6 egg yolks, from medium-sized eggs
60 g soft, light-brown sugar
120 g caster sugar
300 ml cream, full-fat
1 tsp vanilla extract
Pinch of salt

Special equipment: coffee grinder or mortar and pestle, fine sieve, muslin cloth or coffee filter, ice cream machine


Preparation
Place the coffee beans in a coffee grinder (or use a mortar and pestle) and coarsely grind them. Don't grind them finely because they will create sediment in the ice cream that will ruin its texture.


Place the ground coffee beans in a small saucepan, add the milk and stir with a spoon. Heat over medium-high heat until tiny bubbles appear around the edges of the pan and be careful not to boil the milk. Remove the pan from the heat, put the lid on and allow the coffee to infuse into the milk for 30 minutes.
Pour the milk through a fine sieve lined with muslin cloth or coffee filters and into a bowl. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap to keep the milk warm.


In a medium-sized bowl, add the egg yolks, soft light-brown sugar and caster sugar and whisk with a hand whisk until you have a thick and creamy mixture. Add the warm, coffee-infused milk and mix with the whisk.


Empty the mixture into a medium-sized saucepan and heat over medium heat, stirring constantly with a heatproof spatula until the custard thickens enough to coat the back of a spoon. It will take about 5 minutes.
Pour the custard through the fine sieve and into a clean bowl and then add the cream, the vanilla extract and a pinch of salt. Stir with a spatula to mix and leave to cool. Then, cover the bowl with plastic wrap and place it in the fridge for about 1 hour so the mixture gets really cold.


Then, whisk the mixture and pour it into your ice cream maker. Churn, following the manufacturer's instructions.

Once the ice cream is ready, empty it into a container suitable for the freezer and freeze it for at least 4 hours before serving.











Hazelnut and Orange Biscotti
Adapted from Tartine

Biscotti are Italian cookies that are baked twice in order to have that characteristic crispy texture. These are not too dry though.
Since they are traditionally served with coffee, I thought it was a great idea to serve them with the coffee ice cream.






Yield: about 12 biscotti

Ingredients
35 g blanched (skinned) hazelnuts
65 g unsalted butter, softened
80 g caster sugar
1 large egg
2 tsp Grand Marnier (orange-flavored liqueur)
Zest of a small orange
160 g all-purpose flour
3/4 tsp baking powder
1/8 tsp salt

Special equipment: stand or hand-held mixer, medium-sized baking sheet, baking paper


Preparation
Place the hazelnuts in a small pan set over a medium heat and toast them until they become fragrant, stirring them around frequently so they don't catch. Take them out of the pan and chop them coarsely.

Line the bottom of a baking sheet with baking paper.
Preheat your oven to 160 degrees Celsius / 320 Fahrenheit.

In the bowl of a stand mixer (or in a large bowl), add the softened butter and beat with the paddle attachment (or with your hand-held mixer) on medium-high speed, until creamy and light. Add the sugar and beat until fluffy and light-colored. Add the egg and beat until the mixture is smooth. Add the Grand Marnier and orange zest and beat until incorporated and then add the flour, the baking powder and salt and beat on low speed until just combined. Add the chopped hazelnuts and mix with a spatula. The dough will be a little soft and ever-so-slightly sticky.


Empty the biscotti dough onto a lightly floured work surface and shape it into a log, about 3.5-4 cm in diameter. If it sticks to your hands and you can't shape it, flour your hands.
Place the log onto the lined baking sheet and place on the middle rack of the preheated oven. Bake for 25-30 minutes, until the log is set to the touch and has taken on a light-brown color on top.


Remove the baking sheet from the oven and transfer the log to a wire rack. Allow the log to cool slightly and then transfer to a cutting board. Cut the log into 1 cm thick slices on the diagonal with a serrated knife. Place the slices on the baking sheet, cut side down, and bake the biscotti for 6-8 minutes on one side and 1 minute on the other, until their edges are lightly toasted. Remove them from the oven and place them on a wire rack to cool completely.

You can keep the biscotti in a container, tightly covered, at room temperature for a couple of weeks.