Feasts and Treats
Because of their country’s hot, dry climate, the ancient Greek agricultural calendar was a little different from the one we are accustomed to. Crops were planted in the fall and reaped in the spring before the summer sun could singe the grain in the field. Springtime, therefore, was a heady time with both the harvest and the return of the wild lilies and asphodels to celebrate. The dead, too, were fêted during the early spring Festival of Pots, when offerings were left for the departed in clay dishes in the garden. Meanwhile, the radiant daughters of Pleione, the Pleiades, returned to their appointed places in the sky after an absence of forty days, to twinkle prettily and serve as a beacon to sailors.
Penne à la Circe
I like to think that this is the sort of dish the Greek witch Circe might have served to Odysseus had they both lived closer to our time, not in the Bronze Age before pasta and tomato sauce were available. Then again, who is to say that this witch, skilled in the use of herbs, does not still haunt the well-appointed island of Aeaea, wherever that might be? Circe is most infamous for transforming Odysseus’s men into swine and distracting the hero from his quest to return home to his wife and family. This recipe calls for pancetta—thin-sliced Italian bacon. Best not ask where it came from!
Prep time: 15 minutes
Cook time: 30 minutes
Servings: 4–6
Salt
Water
Olive oil
3 cups penne pasta
¼ cup pancetta or lean bacon, chopped
1 clove garlic, minced
¼ yellow onion, chopped
1 tablespoon dried rosemary, crushed between two spoons
1½ cups tomato juice
Generous dash white wine
Dash black pepper
¼ teaspoon ground coriander
1 teaspoon dried thyme
1 bay leaf
½ cup light cream
½ cup pitted Kalamata olives, drained and halved lengthwise
Feta cheese crumbles for topping
Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Add a dash of olive oil and the penne pasta and cook according to directions on package. If you’re in a rush, you can start the sauce in a smaller pot while the pasta is cooking. If not, wait until pasta is draining, and you can cook the sauce in the same pot.
Sauté pancetta or bacon with garlic, onions, and rosemary in your pot of choice until garlic is crispy and onions are glassy. Add tomato juice, wine, black pepper, coriander, thyme, and bay leaf and simmer for a few minutes until quite hot. Stir in cream.
Stir pasta into sauce (or vice versa), top with olives and feta cheese and serve.
Pramnian Wine
In the Indian version of Circe’s story—yes, there is an Indian version—the witch attempts to transform the hero into a donkey by feeding him a porridge made from bewitched barley grains. Likewise, in “Book 10” of Homer’s Odyssey, Circe stirs her magic potion into a brew of Pramnian wine mulled with barley, cheese, and honey. Polite guests that they are, Odysseus’s men drink it down, and the next thing they know, they’ve dropped to all fours and sprouted bristles. Even without the magic potion, this sounds like an unpalatable concoction, but a similar mixture of cheese, barley, and Pramnian wine is also served in the Iliad—with no ill effects.
What is Pramnian wine? We know from writers who came after Homer that it was a dark-red late-harvest wine and therefore quite sweet. The best Pramnian wine seems to have come from the island of Lesbos. The ancient Greeks didn’t shrink from adding other substances to their wine, perhaps because their wines were stored in a highly concentrated form and had to be mixed with water anyway. Once they’d gotten out their whisks and golden mixing bowls, they’d throw in whatever they had on hand: fenugreek, pine resin, and even seawater.
There are no rules here, but I would suggest leaving the cheese on the side!
Prep time: 2 minutes
Mull time: 5 minutes
Chill time: at least 1 hour
Servings: 4–6
1 bottle sweet red wine
1 single-serving bottle dark beer
2 tablespoons honey
Pinch of sea salt
Heat all ingredients together on very low heat until honey is dissolved. Pour into pitcher and chill well before serving. Wealthy Greeks sent to the mountaintops for snow to chill their wine in summer, but Circe could have simply cast her own flurry on Aeaea.
Greek Farina Cake
I first ate farina cake at the home of my daughter’s recorder teacher, an Israeli-born music librarian and Baroque musician. While conducting research for these recipes, I discovered that farina cake is also a Greek specialty. I imagine Circe and Odysseus sneaking into the kitchen late on a hot Mediterranean May Eve to enjoy this slightly sticky sweet dessert.
Prep time: 15 minutes
Bake time: 30 minutes
Servings: about 12 small pieces
For the cake:
8 tablespoons butter (1 stick), softened, plus a little for greasing
½ cup sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
3 eggs
Electric mixer
1 8” × 10” rectangular baking pan (yes, you can use a round layer cake pan; it just won’t be as Greek)
½ cup flour
½ teaspoon baking powder
½ cup farina
Zest of one small orange
For the syrup:
¼ cup white sugar
¼ cup honey
⅓ cup water
Juice of half a small orange
Cream butter, sugar, and vanilla together. Beat in eggs with electric mixer until well mixed and slightly frothy.
Preheat oven to 375 degrees F.
Sift flour and baking powder into butter mixture. Add farina and mix on low speed, scraping sides of bowl, until well blended. Stir in orange zest.
Grease pan and spread batter evenly in pan and bake for 30 minutes or until knife inserted in center comes out clean.
Now to make the syrup. Heat sugar, honey, and water in small pot on low heat until sugar and honey are dissolved. Remove pot from heat and stir in orange juice.
With sharp knife, cut hot cake into diamond-shaped pieces but do not remove from pan. Pour hot syrup over hot cake. Let cool completely before removing individual pieces to serve. I find the cake tastes best the next day when the farina has had time to absorb all the flavors. And because it’s made with farina and orange juice, it’s entirely appropriate for breakfast.