The Tyropita

I have no idea how I can successfully catch a cold, which of course develops into a full-fledged flu, the worst possible time when I’m incredibly busy and can’t afford to be sick. Yes, folks, let the complaining begin.

I have the flu, or to be perfectly honest, I’m almost over it because if I were smack in the middle of suffering from it, I wouldn’t be able to write a single word, let alone a whole blog post.

I believe I’m very easy-going when I’m sick. I’m high-maintenance the rest of the time so I give people around me a break when I’m under the weather. Ha! Honestly though, I just sit quietly on the couch, watching my tv shows and films, falling asleep, making my own cup of tea and soup, unlike some other people (let’s not name names) that demand to be waited on hand and foot when they have a plain cold.

But let’s get to the tyropita (τυρόπιτα / pronounciation: tee-roh-pee-tah), the Greek cheese pie, which is the reason I got off my cozy couch. The word tyropita is not a simple word in the Greek language. There’s not a single Greek out there who doesn’t have a very specific image of tyropita in their mind the second they hear the word.

It’s one of the most well-known pies in Greek cuisine (next to spanakopita), a pie that everyone knows how to make and that everyone certainly knows how to devour in record time. And of course everyone has their favorite kind, because yes, there are different kinds of tyropita. Those can either depend on the type of dough used (phyllo, kourou, puff pastry), or the type of cheese(s) used, the most common of course being feta.

My ideal tyropita is one made with puff pastry. That’s the way my mom always made it, and still does. I have no idea why she prefers sfoliata (Greek word for puff pastry) to the traditional Greek phyllo, I’ve never asked her, as I’ve never had any complaints. I greedily ate my piece every single time she prepared tyropita.

Whenever I make my own puff pastry, I always bake a tray of tyropita. I use feta, ricotta (anthotyro when I’m in Greece) and a béchamel sauce all mixed together to create the filling. The result is a salty and slightly sweet cheese pie with that incomparable flavor and texture of puff pastry encasing the cheeses. A flaky, golden-brown and buttery puff pastry that makes my tyropita the best there is.

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The Greek Simiti / Koulouri

If you've ever found yourself walking the streets of Athens on an early morning, then you might have happened upon a vendor selling the famous Greek koulouria Thessalonikis otherwise known as simitia.

These small, sesame-crusted bread rings are sold on street corners and bakeries and are the breakfast of choice among the busy Athenians who hurry on their way to work with nothing more than a coffee in their belly. We Greeks are not big on breakfast but when you see these bread rings in front of you, there is no room for resistance.

Before moving to the Netherlands, I have never thought of making simitia myself. There was no point to it since I could go to my neighborhood bakery and get one whenever a craving would hit. Now, things have changed. Now, whenever I crave something from home, I have to make it myself.

Simitia are a common snack and street food for both Greeks and our neighbors, the Turks. They were brought to Greece by Greek refugees from Asia Minor and Constantinople (Istanbul) who settled in Thessaloniki, the second largest city in Greece, which explains why simiti is also called 'Koulouri Thessalonikis'. Koulouri/κουλούρι (plural: koulouria/κουλούρια) means small round-shaped bread ring.

The Greek word simiti/σιμίτι (plural: simitia/σιμίτια), comes from the Turkish word simit, which comes from the Arabic word semid, which in turn comes from the ancient Greek word semidalis/σεμίδαλις (simigdali/σιμιγδάλι in modern Greek), meaning semolina.

The traditional Greek version of koulouri/simiti is a thin bread ring encrusted with sesame seeds. The one I prefer eating and making is another version, the Politiko simiti (Politiko refers to the type of Greek cuisine I grew up with, of which you can read all about here), one that originates from the Greek bakers of Constantinople. It's a braided, fuller version of a bread ring, that is first coated with a generous amount of petimezi (Greek grape-must syrup/grape molasses) that gives them a light sweetness and then with toasted sesame seeds.

The braiding creates a more intricate texture and thus a more interesting flavor as the delicious petimezi sneaks in the crevices of the braids, creating a light caramelization when the bread ring bakes in the oven. The toasted sesame seeds give the bread a more intense, nutty taste and the addition of eggs and milk in the dough, another difference between the plain Greek simiti and this one, gives it a richer flavor.

Simitia are characteristically crunchy on the outside and soft and slightly chewy on the inside and even though they are a traditional Greek breakfast snack, you can serve them any other time of the day. Let me assure you, no one will complain.

Greek Politiko Simiti / Koulouri (Braided Bread Rings Coated with Grape-Must Syrup and Sesame Seeds)

Simitia/koulouria can be served either with sweet or savory accompaniments. I love cutting them in half crosswise, spreading a generous amount of butter on top, followed by some honey or jam, and having them for breakfast. Served with Kalamata olives and Feta or Graviera cheese they make the perfect light lunch.

You can find grape-must syrup (petimezi) in Greek or Middle-Eastern stores. If you can't find it, simply coat the bread rings with water before covering them with the toasted sesame seeds.

Find my recipe on my Substack newsletter.  

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Look forward to seeing you there!!