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Grape leaves Like prose and poetry, cooking often suffers in translation. It doesn’t even matter if you can find the same ingredients, your tongue still stumbles over the flavours, as if tasting with a strangers tongue. This was how it was when I first encountered a stuffed grape leaf, a small, dense, enigmatic bundle, holding on tight to its precious little cargo of savory rice, lemon and mint. Chewy, herby and cool –they have come to fill a small but important corner of my spring and summer diet. They are so uniquely their own being that they have an almost shy and tentative quality, like little culinary orphans who pass by largely unnoticed. It takes a very large leap of the imagination to believe the assertion in the book, Greek Food by Rene Salaman that, “stuffed vine leaves are the crown of Greek cuisine”. What are these little things when we become the stranger at the table and they the ones at home? Walking
in the summer in our own fields and hills we have no hesitation to pick
a bunch of berries and bring them home to make a pie or jam or just eat
them by the handful. But where we embrace the sweet, we veer away from
the aromatic. Not so the Greeks. In that country, the herbs we shake
from bottles or coddle in our gardens grow wild: thyme, rosemary, mint,
oregano, sage, fennel, chamomile – these are the smells of the land,
not merely the kitchen shelf. The spring rains compel their growth, the
summer sun then draws and dissipates their aromatic oils. Then the scent
floats down into the towns and villages to mingle with the scent of
burning charcoal and roasting lamb. And,
to most Greeks grapevines themselves aren’t plants associated with
distant vineyards: they’re familiar and everywhere. Wherever you go,
there are grapevines overhead providing shade and shelter. They are the
first thing planted when some tiny space is found for a garden and a
poignant symbol of spring. Each grape leaf is a green fist that clasps
in its pungent fingers those same fresh herbs whose odors season the air
itself, mellowed by fruity olive oil and set off by the tart tang of
lemon in a chewy bite of rice. This
dish then, if we want to know it on its own terms should be made fresh
as nothing will do it in as quickly as dried herbs and dull greens. One
need only adjust quantity to pungency. It is a mouthful of summer you
are setting on the table, nothing else. To
begin, use any growth of unsprayed grapevine. Pick those free of insect
damage and neither too big nor too small. Traditionally only the second
and third leaves of each vine are taken (this was to protect the vine
and grapes from sunburn) the leaves chosen should be thin, flexible and
smooth. Shaded leaves are more tender than those in the sun. Once home the
leaves should be blanched for 30 seconds in boiling salt water then
drained. To preserve them in quantity, roll them into tight bundles and
pack them vertically. Mix 1 cup of fresh lemon juice to each quart of
water, bring to the boil and then pour the boiling liquid over the
leaves. Seal the jars and process for 15 minutes in a boiling water
bath. The
leaves to be filled should be turned dull side up. The filling, usually
about a teaspoonful if uncooked rice is used is set in the centre. The
bottom is wrapped up over the filling and the two sides, one after the
other, are folded to embrace it. Then the bundle is rolled up to the tip
of the leaf and set, seam side down, in the pot. When the bottom of the
pot is full, start a second layer and so one until the filling is used
up. A
Greek Filling of Fresh Herbs 30
to 40 grape leaves, fresh or preserved ½
cup fruity olive oil 1
bunch green onions, finely chopped ½
cup finely minced fresh dill or fennel ¼
cup chopped parsley 2
tablespoons minced fresh mint 2/3
cup long-grain rice Juice
of 1 lemon 2/3
cup boiling water 1)
Prepare the grape leaves as directed above. Heat the olive oil
gently. Add the scallions, dill or fennel, parsley and mint and heat
until they wilt and release their scent. Stir in the rice, add the lemon
juice and the boiling water and cook until the water is absorbed. The
rice will only be partly cooked. Let this mixture cool, the use it to
fill the grape leaves. 2)
Put each grape leaf seam side down in a pot lined with spare
grape leaves. Pour in 2 cups of water, and set a heavy plate on top to
weight down the stuffed leaves. Bring the liquid to a simmer and cook
about 45 minutes, tasting them for doneness. When ready, let cool and
serve, if you wish, with plain yogurt on the side. |
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