Sweet as Syros

 Sujata Massey

I didn't think of Greece as being a big country. But when I dug into the geography while planning my recent trip, I found Greece has a significant mainland plus over 6000 islands and islets, with 227 of them habitable. 

227 islands!

These potential 227 choices present a dilemma to anyone who is interested in the Mediteranean and visits Greece more than once. The question is: if you’ve discovered an island that captivates you, should you return? Or do go on visiting more places that you’ve heard are special?

Greeks on the mainland also love their islands. I also have heard they tend to align with a particular island, often because of family history, and visit it a few times a year. They build relationships and have a home away from home.

Vaporia District

I suspect most foreign tourists (myself included) tend to relentlessly explore as many as they can. Yet certain islands will always get the largest numbers of people, and they are Santorini, Mykonos, Corfu, Rhodes, and Crete, the place where Tony and I started our trip. But now we were having a new adventure on the way to the island of Syros. 

 

Port of Ermoupolis

We traveled by ferry, the same strategy we’d used for island-hopping back in 1990. Fortunately, there are plenty of ferry companies in Greece that run much more smooth and comfortable transportation than in the past. I remember from the late time I visited in 1990. Huge ferries like those run by the efficient Seajets company can take 2100 passengers and hold up to 600 cars. Rides can be as short as half an hour or as long as twelve hours, with plenty of stops at islands large and small. Ferries have seating similar to a plane’s economy, business and first-class sections, albeit far more relaxing and uncrowded.  Restrooms, bathrooms, and coffee and snack bars abound—and it’s easy to change your seat, as long as you are in the correct cabin. 

The ride from Crete to Syros was about six hours, so we went with a “platinum” seating category. You check your luggage in an area on the entry deck, where cars park around the sides. I felt a little nervous to leave our two suitcases in the luggage rack for Syros, but I was relieved to see most of the passengers and luggage was clustered in the area bound for Santorini (of course). This made the accidental removal of our suitcases seem less likely.

Upstairs, we relaxed with coffee in our comfortable window seats with extendable footrests. We heard lots of American English around us all the way to Santorini. It was just two hours from Crete to Santorini, and at that destination, two-thirds of the cabin disembarked. Within ten minutes, another great throng filled in the seats, most heading for Piraeus, the port near Athens. 

A seawall of tumbled marble

The word Cyclades is an Anglicized reworking of the Greek word Kyklades referring to the circular position of this island group in the South Agean Sea. 32 out of the Kyklades’ 220 islands are inhabited—and some of the uninhabited ones have great historical and spiritual significance and have legal protection against visitation. Syros is the largest island in the Cyclades, with a population just over 21,000, and is known as the island that stays open year-round. Syros is still a place where people work in the shipyards or farming and making cheeses, honey and also having art and craft galleries and shops. But primarily, Syros has the long-lived prestige of being the legislative center of the Kyklades, ensuring a constant stream of Greek citizens with legal business. There is a neoclassical urbanity to most buildings in Ermoupolis that gives this island a more international feeling than other Greek islands I've had the pleasure of visiting. 

Town Hall of Ermoupolis

Apollon Theater

Entrance to Historical Museum of Hermoupolis

Archaeological evidence of human habitation on the island goes back to 3000 B.C. Through the turbulence of the Crusades and beyond, different countries claimed Syros as theirs, but this island did not suffer as much as some other places. Syros had the unique situation of being a place with both Catholicism and Greek Orthodox churches, making it a refuge for some during political upheaveals. This legacy of immigration and self-sufficiency, plus an excellent location close to Asia Minor, made Syros a center for shipbuilding and textile production in the 19^th century. It became the second richest location in Greece (after Athens) during this era, and is still known as the capitol of the Cyclades islands.  With prosperity, the arts thrived—and at one point there were five opera houses on the island. Its predominantly neoclassical architecture is different from the boxy, small white houses throughout most Kyklades islands. Life goes on year-round for local people, and there’s now a significant cohort of artists, designers and digital nomads living on the island. 

Restored interior Apollon Theater

I was impressed by the old-fashioned look of the curving harbor when the ferry pulled in. Only about twenty people got off. A waiting taxi carried us on a brief uphill climb to our lodgings, Hotel Aristide, a renovated Venetian palazzo owned by the writer Oana Aristide, her sister and mother. The design and comfort was exquisite and it's been recognized as a Michelin-starred hotel. There are quite a few hotels in historic mansions scattered through Ermoupolis. 

Hotel Aristide

Kriti Suite bedroom

Kirti had a terrace and plunge pool

How incredible it seemed that all the streets were paved in marble—soft hues of cream, gray and pink that were accented in the colors of the stucco houses. 

Later I was to learn marble is an intrinsic part of Syros's geology. Huge marble boulders made up the seawall near the port, and all other areas of Ermoupolis were cobbled in marble—the more industrial neighborhoods had tumbled marble, rather than the polished tiles of the Vaporia district. 

Flights of outdoor marble steps led upward from many streets on the island and opened into charming lanes, with houses set on either side. Not only did we see many small historic houses occupied by local families, there were also plenty of abandoned dwellings awaiting renovation. Historic preservation guidelines in Ermoupolis are strict, and while this ensures the area looks uniformly like itself, progress can be slow. Probably if I had stayed a few days longer in Ermoupolis, I would have been swept up in real estate fever myself. 

The neighborhoods were drop-dead beautiful—and the bonus was that the townspeople were friendly and there was an existing infrastructure of lovely restaurants and shops. Fabulous public buildings like the neoclassical Apollon Theater, modeled on La Scala, still hold regular performances, and we heard about a rock concert with international artists taking place just after we would head out. 

A small number of artists have camped out for good on a special part of the island, the historically Catholic village of Ano Syros. This is a white-washed paradise full of narrow exterior staircases that can only be traversed on foot. 

Ano Syros Lane and Agio Giorgios Cathedral, below

Tony and I had planned to walk from Vaporia to Ano Syros using Apple Maps. After experiencing just a few uphill staircases, though, my right knee protested. So, we went down the stairs to the town square and got a cab ride. The driver stopped at the edge of the village and urged us onward. We followed to the village’s famous Catholic church, Agio Giorgios. This was first built in 1200 and was rebuilt several times, including after a 1617 destruction by Ottoman invaders. Now it is known as the cathedral for the Roman Catholic Archdiocese of Syros and Milos.

The highly decorated sanctuary hadn’t changed since the 1830s and provided a deep, contemplative space from its spot at the top of the island. We stayed there for a while, imagining worshippers of the past--and all the steps they would have taken, several times a week, for their spiritual wellbeing. Syros is a windy island, which would certainly add to the challenge, especially during winter.

After a refreshing lemonade in a small café, we skipped down a few hundred steps and then took a straight path back to Ermoupolis. We ran right into a small archaeological museum and stepped through the door and saw treasures that had been unearthed in the 19^th century and originally sent on to a museum Athens. All these were returned to the island, due to the islanders’ strong feelings, and this museum that they built to prove they could respectfully share the island's history with visitors. 

Only a few museums exist on the island, and they all run on odd hours, a few days a week—at least in the shoulder season. And the delight was we didn’t share space with many other people, any time we were in such a venue. We noticed tourists tended mostly to be Greek and over thirty. Where were the partying kids so common elsewhere in Greece? 

A university lies somewhere on the 32-square-mile island, but I didn’t see it, nor any beach resorts. The truth was, we stayed close to Ermoupolis because we didn’t want to rent a car again. The stress of navigating very narrow, busy streets in Crete had worn us out. Ermoupolis is very walkable, so we took taxis three times on the island. We were surprised that the drivers wouldn’t take tips, and the fares they asked us for were quite low: ranging from 5 to 10 euros. This built a feeling of gratitude and trust.

Although English is less widely spoken on Syros than Crete or nearby Mykonos, a small but significant contingent of foreigners live year-round on Syros. These are digital nomad families who rent apartments and send their children to a flexible "worldschool" and daycare set up by Boundless Life, a company that has a few sites in other European countries. It’s an interesting strategy that schedules families to arrive together at a certain time, live in furnished apartments, share coworking space and develop friendships. A French musician who moonlighted as restaurant manager at the Aristide, and who's lived on the island more than twelve years, thinks the digital nomad program has been a plus. Alex pointed out the program rents properties from local landlords during the cold season and families buy what they need from local merchants and restaurants and shops. Most significantly, there is now an English medium school with an international baccalaureate to the island--building opportunities for cultural and linguistic connection. 

Tony was looking more Greek every day

The negative impact of tourism, especially crowding of public areas and conversion of local housing to Airbnbs, has been a source of anger in Portugal and Spain. It seems to be less virulent in Greece. Could this be because Greece's visitors are spread out over so many islands? Granted, there are islands with tourist overload--see Part 3, yet to come in this trilogy of blog posts! 

I was happy to investigate many small mom-and-pop restaurants serving mostly Greek and Italian food, as well as local fish, octopus and squid. Syros has a delightful market area selling local cheeses, honey, meats, fruit and freshly caught fish. In the heart of it is a casual restaurant called Street Food where I had an outstanding, simple meal of spinach rice, and chickpeas braised in tomato. 

And what great cappucino can be ordered at the dozens and dozens of coffee shops! Many cafes could be found near the port, in the shopping district, and around the lovely town square. One of Greece’s most famous ice cream shops, Django, has its original location in the market area of Syros. It was here that I ordered a cup of sorbet, a half portion of pistachio and vanilla sorbet each. I wouldn’t have thought of mixing my order, but the young man behind the encounter insisted that it was the only correct combination. I liked the strength of his opinion--and the sorbet tasted like full-fat gelato!

Our appetite was strong on Syros, and the most delicious and enjoyable meal we had was a lunch cooked in a cooking class in one of the glorious old Vaporia mansions. Here we met Eliza, a Greek lady from the mainland, retired from being a translator, who fell in love with an islander and the island herself. Eliza and her husband Kostas renovated Villa Maria, a late 19th century Venetian-style palazzo on a narrow lane that serves as both an inn and a cooking school. During Eliza’s Saturday class, we met four other Americans and a German. 

Fava married with capers and red onions

Tirititim: aSyros specialty with zucchini and egg

Some of my favorites out of the seven dishes we cooked were fava, yellow split peas with caramelized red onions and capers; a delectable baked dish of eggplant and potatoes and tomatoes that was not moussaka; vine leaves baked with a tangy solid yogurt filling; and a dessert pie of baked milk and semolina. The simplicity of Greek ingredients makes the vegetables stand out and the food taste heavenly. Eliza kindly emailed her precious regional recipes to all of us, and I approximated the fava just a few days ago.

Eliza's traditional kitchen

It's hard to put into words why Syros put such a spell on me. Perhaps it was the mix of sophisticated and simpler but charming houses set against the coastline, or maybe it was the lowkey friendliness and honesty of the locals. Syros is kind to tourists: and because it doesn’t depend on them for life, that makes a significant difference. 

After five pleasant days, I sailed away thinking: I might like to break my explore, explore, explore pattern when it comes to Greece, because I'd love to imagine Syros could be my own homecoming isle. 

Secrets of Greek Cooking Brought to Mind by the Closing of a Landmark NYC Restaurant

Jeff—Saturday 

 

Getting Greeks to give up their recipes is like pulling teeth.  Nah, I’m exaggerating. Pulling teeth is way easier. Perhaps it’s because they fear their recipes will be stolen. Like the Parthenon Marbles.

Frankly, I think it’s way past the time for worrying.  No, not over the marbles, the recipes.  Greek cuisine has taken over the earth…at least in major North American cities.  Some of the very best restaurants in the U.S. are Greek and I defy you to find a diner anywhere in the U.S. not connected somehow to a Greek.  

 

Sadly, this past month marked the closing of my favorite Greek restaurant of all time:  Periyali, the legendary Manhattan pioneer and stalwart of fine Greek cooking served with elegance amid world-class surroundings. Every dish set the standard for its imitators.

For example, who ever thinks of Greek food without “octopus” latching on to your thoughts?  To my way of thinking the best anywhere was found at Periyali, and if you somehow get a hold of The Periyali Cookbook you’ll find some of the best Greek recipes anywhere.  Its signature octopus dish takes up five pages in the cookbook and three days to make!  But it’s worth it.

And while on the subject of worth it, the cookbook’s “Victor Gouras’s Sautéed Breast of Chicken with Lemon Sauce,” is my favorite chicken dish on earth.  I often watched Victor prepare it in his culinary-paradigm changing Patmian House restaurant on the Dodecanese Island of Patmos but his final cooking stage called for grilling the chicken in a panini-type waffle iron, not in the skillet called for by the recipe.  But let’s just keep that little secret between us chickoholics.

But I digress (to digest?).  Back to the octopus.  For those of you looking for a simpler way to prepare it than recommended by Periyali, let’s start with the basic premise of all dealings with octopus: First and foremost tenderize.  Unless of course you’re searching for a mandibular workout. 

Some say that if you start with frozen octopus the freezing process has already tenderized it.  I don’t buy that, even though I do buy frozen octopus.   I tenderize both fresh and frozen octopi, though not in the same way. 

The classic method for dealing with fresh is pounding the octopus one hundred times against a stone—definitely not recommended for the still frozen sort—and it’s the only method I use for those I catch in the sea. 

If you don’t happen to have a slab of granite in your kitchen or nearby, but still want to experience the slam-bam method, perhaps you might try using a sidewalk or an edge of a street in your neighborhood. Just be careful not to get yourself tenderized in the process by a passing motorist or charging PETA demonstrators.  By the way, this method has a critical final step. After the pounding is done, you must vigorously rub the octopus against the stone in seawater for five minutes or so, forming a froth as you merrily rub-a-dub-dub.

Okay, there’s a more practical approach to the tenderizing process, it’s one passed on to me many years ago by my buddy Panos Kelaidis’ mom.

Put the octopus and one full wine glass (“Greek size” she said) of red wine or vinegar into a pot, cover with a tight lid, and simmer for a minimum of two hours until a fork goes through it easily (octopus releases it’s own fluid as it cooks—or at least it’s supposed to). Remove the tentacles close to the head and grill them over a medium-hot charcoal grill or under a broiler for about four minutes.  Or sauté them in olive oil and whatever herbs you choose.  Once cooked, add olive oil and lemon to taste, plus pepper and a “bit” of the red wine (or vinegar) used to tenderize. And yes, I know there are a lot of other ways to do this, but you Yiannis-come-lately lost your chance to suggest your mommy’s favorite.

By the way, just in case you haven’t noticed by now, traditional Greek cooking follows the “by feel” rather than precise measurement approach—like the country’s accounting methods. (I know, I promised none of that.  Sorry.).

Not to be outdone by his mom, Panos contributed his own simple recipe for a staple of Greek traditional fare, oven roasted lemon potatoes:

Small round ones work best.  Soak potatoes in a mixture of salt, two cups of water, and two cups of lemon juice for two hours. Drain the potatoes, and toss them in a mixture of one-half cup olive oil, fresh cut-up garlic, and oregano.  Line the bottom of a roasting pan with one row of potatoes, bake for one-hour and forty minutes at 375 degrees, and finish off with twenty minutes under a broiler to crisp them up nicely.

A nice accompaniment to the octopus and potatoes is this easy to make recipe for tzatziki I plucked from Roz Apostolou at the Hotel Mykonos Adonis, my home on Mykonos:

Peel, grate, and strain one large or two small cucumbers, and allow them to sit in a strainer for at least one-half hour.  Place the thoroughly strained cucumber on a tea towel and wring out most of the moisture.

To two cups of yogurt (you can use light but it really isn’t as good), add

The wrung-out cucumber,

One-quarter cup finely chopped dill,

Two to three cloves of crushed or grated garlic (adjust to taste and/or anticipated up-close and personal encounters),

Three tablespoons of olive oil, and

Salt (again to taste).

Mix it all together and voila!  Or rather opa!

Okay it’s time for the turkey. But I need a drink first, and here’s a “brandy margarita” sort of drink from bar maestros, Nikos Christodoulakis and Jody Duncan, proprietors of Mykonos’ also now shuttered and deeply missed Montparnasse Piano Bar (think La Cage aux Folles, sans sequins). 

It’s their “Side by Side by Sidecar”:

Two ounces Wild Turkey 101 Proof Bourbon (if you’ve hit the lottery you can use Mount Vernon Estate rye at $85/pint or Buffalo Trace)

Three-quarter ounces Cointreau

One ounce slightly sweetened lemon juice

Put ice in a cocktail shaker and add all of the above ingredients. Shake the hell out of it, and strain into a chilled Mae West type champagne glass rimmed with superfine bar sugar. Garnish with a lemon twist.

Ahh, and in a homage to Thanksgiving…the floor’s all yours, public relations guru extraordinaire Renee Pappas.

First, Renee Pappas’ twist on the traditional Greek stuffing/dressing recipe.

Soak overnight about 3 cups of currants (not raisins) in enough Madeira or Mavrodaphne wine to cover them.  Sauté one finely chopped medium onion, add in two pounds of ground meat and once it’s browned add in the currants and wine. Continue sautéing until the wine is absorbed, adding one teaspoon salt, one-half teaspoon allspice, and one-quarter teaspoon pepper. To the sauté, stir in two cups of prepared chestnuts cut up by hand, together with two cups of chopped walnuts and one cup of pine-nuts, and continuing sautéing all the ingredients together for about ten minutes.

In these days of food safety concerns the dressing doesn’t cook inside the turkey, but rather is served separately. So, stuff the turkey’s cavity with oranges and lemons cut into quarters.

Prepare a basting broth for the turkey by combining its neck, heart and liver with a few sprigs of parsley, sage, an onion stuck with cloves, two Knorr chicken bullion cubes and a carrot in eight cups of water.  Allow it all to simmer for about an hour.  Strain the liquid, throw away the innards and vegetables, and add to the basting broth one-half of the bottle of wine used in preparing the dressing (assuming you haven’t been drinking it just to keep up with all this).

Now on to the bird… 

To ready the turkey for the oven, massage it all over with melted butter and put it breast down (very important) in a deep pan lined in aluminum foil. Wrap the wings and ends of the legs in foil and place it in a pre-heated 350-degree oven.  Baste the bird every fifteen minutes. Once the bird's back turns golden, turn it over and roast until the breast is golden brown, remembering to keep basting (every fifteen minutes) with the broth and melted butter.  It should take about twenty minutes per pound to cook.

Once cooked, remove the turkey from the oven and place it on a large cutting board. Strain the basting liquid into a saucepan. Throw away the oranges, lemons and "gunk" and put the turkey back into the pan, tightly covered with aluminum foil, and allow it to “rest” at least a half hour before carving.

Add the rest of the wine to the basting broth and cook it down, adding a paste made of cornstarch and wine, to thicken it into gravy.

Enjoy.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone, with a special thanks to Renee, Roz, Jody, Niko, Steve, Nicola, and Panos. 

––Jeff