A New Kind of Greek Salad

Many years ago, while I was still in college, my family and I spent a couple of months in Greece over the summer.  It wasn't intended to be such a long stay, but there was a highjacking a couple of days after our arrival and U.S. airlines had stopped flying to Athens.  Eventually, since we had to go back to school, we boarded a freighter ship to Ancona, Italy, and enjoyed a few bonus days driving around that gorgeous country before flying home from Rome.  It was a memorable summer, to say the least.  But I digress . . .

Greece:  our time in this seat of global culture was highlighted by fellowship with several amazing people. A Greek friend from school was an amazing host/tour guide in Athens and at his family's home on Mykonos.  Living with the locals cannot be beat for a cultural immersion experience. My Dad's co-worker and his family were also amazing hosts, in and around Athens and also at his grandma's house in the tiny town of Leonidion (I'm not sure how to spell it in English) up in the mountains at the end of the road. In Greece, foods are served in a very unadulterated way -- close to their original forms.  Preparing food is more a pairing of flavors than a transformation.  With fresh ingredients, that's the best way.  Whatever we were eating, the greek salad was ubiquitous.  It was never discussed, we just all pitched in and started chopping -- every day.  In Greece, the salad always starts with tomatoes, cucumbers and feta cheese with olive oil.  There were black olives sometimes, herbs sometimes, bell peppers sometimes, but always cukes, tomatoes and feta.

As our weather begins to warm, I find myself wanting fresher flavors. Since I'm not eating cheese, I got a little creative with replicating that Greek salad tanginess.  The kalamata olives (not a favorite of  my current family but I love 'em) contributed so much toward the tanginess goal, but since I used a bit of restraint for the sake of the fam, I had to find another tang source without the pungency of the olives.  I decided to open a recent jar of pickles I made:  radish and purple onion.  Nothing gets wasted round here, so when I finished the purple cabbage kraut I had bought at the store, I repurposed the pretty brine for the pickles, adding a bit of purified water and a few drops of ume plum vinegar.  The resulting pickle concoction was just what I needed to round out my newfangled Greek salad. The salad was delicious and effectively transported me, temporarily, back to a lovely memory.

Beautiful Things

This lovely, nutritious Primavera is appropriate comfort food for the season. I love preparing food simply based on what's on hand. This was tinkyada brown rice pasta, grape tomatoes, sauteed purple onion and garlic, frozen peas and Italian parsley with olive oil. I didn't cook the tomatoes or peas. I just added them to the warm pasta at the end to keep their flavors bright.

As I try to adjust to a world without my mother, my heart is warmed by beautiful things all around me. My Mom was always the first to notice, and be grateful for the stunning beauty found in nature and also  in man made things. So beauty will always remind me of her.

My amazing friend, Cheryl, sent me this beautiful dried bay leaf wreath. It is so pretty, I was inspired to take down my dusty old window valance and hang the wreath in its place. My sweet husband brought the lilies to cheer me, and even arranged them in the tall, amber-glass vase my Mom had given me. I love how the vertical reach of this vignette feels somewhat holy.

Upon our return home, I received this gigantic bouquet from my husband's employer. It takes up most of the dining room table. My Mom would love this. Incidentally, the morning before I received this, the large sun, still low in the eastern sky when I dropped my daughter at the bus stop, was exactly the coral-papaya color of the rose up front. My Mom would have loved that for sure. In the background of this photo is an oil pastel portrait of me as a teen, drawn by my Mom.

More beautiful things in my springtime yard:

Even Winter's leftovers are still pretty:

Today's Jeanine story:

When my father used to do business overseas, we sometimes were lucky enough to tag along. One summer, after my freshman year of college, two weeks in Greece turned into a couple of months because of the TWA hijacking that occurred the day after our arrival. All U.S. airlines suspended service to Athens. Eventually, with summer winding down, we opted to board a freighter ship to Ancona, Italy, for a bonus vacay in Rome, and then a flight home. The tragic circumstances of the hijacking aside, we had a lovely summer. At our second hotel, on the outskirts of Athens, My Mom decided to go parasailing. To my immature, 20-year-old sensibilities, my Mom was way too old for such shenanigans. Now, as I do the math, I realize she was the very age I am today -- 46! She was fit and beautiful and very brave. You won't catch me doing most of what she did!