Tag: Flavors

The dry land and the volcanic soil of Santorini give a great taste to all the agricultural products of the island. On this dark and dry land, one wouldn't expect anything to grow, but some special crops are fruitful. The earthquake was catastrophic for Santorini, but it was the salvation of the vineyards, tomatoes and the split pea cultivations.

"I dig with a pickaxe and make a cave in which I keep my wines. Among other elements, Santorini's soil contains pumice stone. The pickaxe I use is slightly different than the standard ones; it was specially made by a Roma blacksmith. The island's caves remained intact after the catastrophic earthquake of 1956; they're safe and cool. The day before yesterday the temperature in my concrete garage was 29 degrees Celsius while in the cave it was only 19".

"My father produced 80-100 tons of wine per year until 1974 and it was all sold to the French. We used to call it "mourouka" and they called it Bordeaux. We used to carry the wine on 100-200 animals loaded with four goat sacks each. We took them to Fira coast, where we poured the wine into barrels. Afterwards, we used to wash the sacks with sea water in order to protect the leather".

"I leave the keys on the door so that my friends can get in. I don't care if a stranger gets into the winery and takes one or two kilos of wine. I liberated myself from this stress; I don't even need a dog to protect me. I once had one who used to bark and scare people; that's why I gave him to a friend".

“Every night, after the sunset behind Maenalus Mountain, the wind stops blowing and extreme calm surrounds us. The only sounds that can be heard are those made by little frogs living in the lakes around. On Sunday night, the ribbiting mixes with the sounds of the cars from far away, as they return to Athens.”

"We can see that Hellenism is fading out but we won't leave. It's hard to leave behind something that works for you and rebuild your life from scratch. Besides, even though we were spoilt as children, we are also taught how to stand on our feet during hardships. We are not only 'fair weather' children".

At the end of August, the aubergine feast takes place at Leonidio, where more than a ton of aubergines are prepared in countless variations. The night of the feast the best food receives prizes by the judges and afterwards there are festivities. Eating and drinking until dawn is a just part of the traditional feast.

Thousands of native and foreign visitors pass in front of the long tables, where there are hundreds of pans and pots, and try a great variety of aubergine recipes. The elegant and imaginative women of Leonidio, with their intense personalities, are the stars of the day. 

"There were some other ouzo taverns (ouzeri) at Missolonghi, but not very big or fancy. All kinds of people have visited it since 1901 when it first opened. Lawyers, doctors, merchants, fishermen, farmers and labourers, all meld together in the same place. It was a place where class did not matter, it used to connect people and bring them close".

"As children we used to play in the family's bakery and through our games came knowledge. We felt the true meaning life in here. Our father used to warm up the wood at night in order to dry them out from the humidity and burn them at the bakery in the morning. The place we live at is full of almond and olive trees, the two best kinds of wood, of which leave their scent on the bread".

"Mussels are sensitive to temperature change. The heat kills them and the cold delays their growth. The 'kokoretsia' (the rope where the mussels are grown) must reach the bottom of the seabed, so that crabs can go up and eat the spawn that covers the mussels and clean them. Crabs weigh over 400 grams and have claws that can cut a whole fish in the middle".

"Our trademark was created in 1863 and was named Apalarina, after the nickname given to my great grandfather. Back in the day, our shop used to work not only as a distillery but as a café as well. The customers were few and each one of them used to have their own table. The tourists who visited the café immediately left their tables when the regulars came in. Among the regulars there were fishermen and huntsmen, who used to tell tall tales in order to pass the time". 

“Every morning Mr. Stavros used to come to our shop around the time when we were cutting the delight on the pans. He used to take the remains from the edges and put them into buns he'd bought from the bakery in order to sell them to the factory workers. Mr. Stavros kept the rolls hot inside a little transparent, glass chest and a drawer filled with burning coal”.

Women are gathered in a warehouse at St. George Sykousis in Chios and are plucking red roses. They're moving their hands quickly as if they were jugglers and they are picking up all the petals that are destined for the preserves. They don't work silently. They sing, joke and laugh out loud.  They are restless women who are not content only doing the housework and they work with preserve industries in order to make some extra money.