‘Greek food has grown up and is a force to reckon with now’

We grew up hybrid Greek and American–my mom was born in Brooklyn and my dad embraced the U.S. My house wasn't exactly out of the ‘big fat Greek wedding.’ We didn’t have plastic on the furniture but we did have a heavy-duty involvement in food–my dad was a cook. We also had a pretty steady stream of newly-arrived immigrants from Ikaria; it was in the Sixties, and lots of my dad’s fellow villagers came over then. One of the nicest experiences was finally getting to Ikaria when I was twelve: that was the first time, and so many people came up to me and mentioned their memories of our hospitality.

My dad drew me to food. I have so many fond memories–and ones still forming–of food in Greece. Picking mushrooms in Epirus forests, eating summer tomatoes that haven’t been doctored with anything, getting my hands wet with olive oil while holding a piece of bread under the spout of an olive press while the oil was being pressed fresh and warm. Food for Greeks is super important. It’s the arbiter of every social interaction, the symbolic sustenance and salutary deprivation during times of feasting and fasting. Food binds families, gives women power in the home, ensures stability and democracy at the family dinner table, which is still a potent daily ritual for most Greeks.

What sets Greek food apart is respect for seasonal ingredients, great climate (so far) which leads to great raw ingredients. There is a pleasant chauvinism in terms of local food, too. Every villager thinks his horafi is the best and the foods from his or her small pocket of the universe the tastiest, healthiest. At that level, food becomes the underlying force that gives people an identity, they belong to a certain place that has certain traditions.

Food has changed–on the creative level, in many ways for the better; on the production level, in many ways for the worst. Becoming a chef is a viable career choice for ambitious, well-educated people now; twenty years ago it was a choice born out of necessity.

Greek food has grown up and is a force to reckon with now, on the creative chefs and restaurants side–not only in Athens, but with a whole second and third generation of chefs opening places in New York, San Francisco, Los Angeles, Chicago, Washington DC, Boston, Australia, the UK, and elsewhere: there is even a new Greek restaurant in New Delhi, the first! Chefs returned to their roots and rediscovered traditional ingredients, took them, ran with them and created a new vernacular. Some use modern, molecular technique, foaming the hell out of everything that can fit into a whipped cream canister; others pare down their cuisine in a way that behooves the original sense of integrity that was the lodestar of the Greek kitchen. There is a lot happening and a lot of people reaching for glory in the glorious Greek kitchen. Thank god, it’s not a case of “may the best man win,” but a case of “there is room for everyone” since the cuisine has been so undervalued on an international level for so long.

Greek food’s appeal is health, happiness (kefi) and history. Even modern chefs are using ingredients that have been around and in the kitchen for millennia. There is something reassuring and wise about that in this day and age of technotastes and diet-driven disease.     

Issue: March/April 2007