“My Vegetable Love”

Eating Well Is The Best Revenge

by Diana Farr Louis

ATHENS, Greece—(Weekly Hubris)—3/8/10—This will probably seem odd to you but my favorite holiday here in Greece marks the beginning of Lent. Don’t get me wrong. Kathara Deftera, aka Clean Monday, has nothing to do with Ash Wednesday. Solemnity, smudged foreheads, penitence, even church have no place in the schedule of events. Instead, it’s an occasion for Greeks to head for the countryside with their kites and an elaborate picnic. But even if they stay at home, it’s a day that is dedicated to feasting.

In fact, I compare it to our American Thanksgiving. This holiday too comes with no strings attached in the form of presents. All that’s required is good company and a perhaps excessive amount of good food. And like Thanksgiving, the dishes usually represent a communal effort, with no one person, certainly not the hostess, slaving all alone over a hot stove. In addition, certain dishes are de rigueur, absolute musts established by centuries-old tradition.

But there the comparison stops. For while Thanksgiving dinner tables groan under the weight of butter-basted turkeys, sausagey stuffings bound with eggs, giblet gravy, cream-napped onions, milky mashed potatoes and a range of vegetables slathered with more butter, Clean Monday fare adheres to strict Orthodox fasting rules.

No food that is in any way connected to an animal with blood running through its veins may pass Greek lips. So, not only are meat and poultry excluded, but also milk, butter, eggs, yogurt, cheese and even fish. Greeks tend to be lax about observing many laws, but few would be found gnawing on lamb chops or even nibbling that usually ubiquitous slab of feta on Clean Monday. Many of them may continue to eat meat for the rest of Lent but the habit of this one-day abstention is too ingrained to break.

Does this sound too dreary for words? Wait a second. Here is a typical menu for this very special celebration: fluffy taramosalata, flecked with spring onion and redolent of lemon; oysters and clams on the half shell; mussels steamed with garlic, parsley and white wine; octopus, grilled, vinaigrette, stewed . . . with tomato and a cinnamon stick or fennel and green olives; cuttlefish ragout with spinach and dill; shrimp, langoustines, lobster . . . , just for example. Luckily, all these delectable fruits of the sea are “bloodless” as well as spineless.

Not as luxurious but certainly very palatable are the accompanying array of dips and casseroles: hummus and pureed yellow peas (fava) topped with sweet, crunchy onion rings; smoky eggplant puree, baked giant beans, lentil salads spiked with chili pepper, a host of lettuce combinations, boiled wild greens . . . all glistening with fragrant olive oil. And even tastier when scooped up with a slice of lagana, a sesame-sprinkled, platter-sized raft of unleavened bread.

With the help of wine or ouzo poured from seemingly bottomless jugs, the feasting lasts from noon to past sunset, interrupted only by the occasional urge—on the part of the young and young at heart—to go fly a kite. OK, that’s the one string attached—pardon the pun—and I’m not at all certain of the symbolism, except that the kite may represent the soul, cleansed and liberated by gusty March winds.

But this year, Clean Monday came early, on February 15. Imagine my disappointment when I realized I would miss it. That I’d be in Paris instead.

Oh, poor you, I can hear your voice dripping with sarcasm.

Admittedly, once there I did forget about Clean Monday for a while. After the initial snow, the sun came out, and while it didn’t melt the puddles, it did light up the grand monuments and the bountiful food stalls. We made daily pilgrimages to the market, started the mornings with ethereal croissants, and slurped our way through a veritable mountain of oysters, moules, shrimps and crab claws, when we were not mopping up the emerald green garlic butter that’s the excuse for struggling with snails.

We also dined out on roast lamb, andouillette and blanquette de veau, lest you think I abhor meat, But although gorgeous looking vegetables and every kind of lettuce adorn even lowly supermarket displays, they rarely appear on restaurant menus. A sprig of parsley may be as close as you’ll come to greenery.

After five days of bread and cheese, steak and frites, we took the bullet train down to Marseille to visit friends. The very next day I made them some Clean Monday staples—artichokes Constantinople-style with carrots, onions and potatoes simmered in lemon juice, a huge mixed green salad, and taramosalata. Vegetable cravings satisfied, at last I felt well fed.

Recipe

Actually tarama paste was nowhere to be found so I made do with excellent herring fillets.

2 heaping tablespoons of tarama paste or 4 herring fillets, sliced

1-1 ½ cups bread crumbs from a “day-old” loaf of peasant bread

1 spring onion, chopped (optional)

¼ cup water

¼ cup mild olive oil

at least 2 tbsp lemon juice, to taste

Put the tarama paste or herring fillets in the bowl of a food processor together with a little of the water and oil. Pulse until smooth. Add some of the bread crumbs and the onion, if using, and drizzle in more water and oil. Continue adding bread crumbs, water and oil, in small doses, until the mixture is smooth and you have used up all the crumbs and liquids. Pour in the lemon juice. I like it very lemony and not too fishy. If the dip seems heavy and too viscous, add more water and oil. The lighter and fluffier, the better. Transfer to a pretty bowl and serve with fresh country bread and/or sliced raw carrots, peppers, celery and fennel.

The artichoke recipe is too long to include but if anyone wants it, I’ll send it on request.