The Greek octopus

I have always lived near the sea and I can't imagine living anywhere where the sea isn't at walking (or biking) distance. Even if I don't have a view of it from my window, I can still feel its presence and that, in some way, makes me feel free.






It seems that I fell in love with the sea from a very young age. I don't remember exactly when I learned how to swim but I can't remember a time when I wasn't swimming.






We had a summer house by the sea and for three whole months, I'd be at the beach for hours each day either swimming, playing with my friends, or engaging in my other favorite activity; helping my grandfather with his catch of the day.






No, my grandfather wasn't a fisherman, but he loved going diving for mussels and clams, and adored going spearfishing for octopuses. Whenever he'd catch one, he'd emerge from the sea like another Poseidon, trident-type fish spear in one hand, octopus in the other, and my brother and I would go running towards him, eager to see it. It would still be moving and curling its tentacles upwards or inwards, and I just couldn't help but touch his little round suckers.






My grandfather would carefully hand it to one of us and then the real work would begin. We had seen him do it a hundred times and we knew exactly what to do. Under his watchful eye, either I or my brother, would grab the octopus by the head, hold it firmly and start smacking it repeatedly against the seaside rocks. Then we would rub it in a circular motion against those same rocks until it foamed up and changed color, a process called paragouliasma in Greek.






Of course at that age, we had no idea that what we were actually doing was tenderizing the octopus, making it easier for my grandmother to cook it later on the day. What we did know was that we were having loads of fun doing it.






When we'd get home, tentacled trophy in hand, we'd give it to our grandmother who'd prepare it depending on our wishes. She would make htapodi ksidato (marinated octopus in vinegar), htapodi sti shara (barbecued octopus), or htapodi me makaronaki kofto (braised octopus with short pasta).






The latter was always my favorite and it's an all-time classic Greek dish. One that I prepare fairly often in my little expat kitchen. The octopus is first boiled in its own juices, then it is braised in a tomato, red wine and garlic sauce until succulent and finally, the pasta is added to the pan which cooks in the sauce and the octopus' juices.






The marriage of flavors in this rustic dish is purely divine. The sweet, juicy octopus, the smooth yet sharp red wine and tomato sauce and the al dente pasta, combine excellently to create an authentic taste of Greece. This is a culinary peek into my childhood.










Htapodi me Makaronaki Kofto (Greek Braised Octopus with Short Pasta)

People (usually non-Greeks) are intimidated or scared of cooking or eating octopus. They shouldn't. Apart from it being delicious, it is also quite easy to cook. You just need to know how to cook it properly.

The complete recipe and HOW TO PROPERLY CLEAN AND COOK FRESH OCTOPUS is now on my Substack.