The Greeks love to eat. Many Americans have a fear of coming to Greece because they are afraid of the food. There's nothing to be afraid of. It's not like Mexican or food from the far eat. Nothing is so spicy you can't eat it and the seasonings they use are the very same ones you have on the spice shelf in your Kitchen. And unlike the crappy oil that terrorizes the hearts of many Americans, Olive oil is good for you and will keep you alive long after many of your friends have taken the next step in their spiritual evolution.You will notice that in Greece the waiter will not come up to your table every three minutes to ask how you are doing or if he can get you anything else or fill your glass with every sip you take like they do in restaurants in America. If you want something else it is your job do get his attention and anything goes within reason. And unlike in America where you get your meal and eat it and that's the end, in Greece it is OK to keep ordering. If something delivered to another table looks good, ask what it is and get it. Nobody is going to think you are greedy or a slob. Eating is meant to be enjoyed and restaurant food is cheap. Eating in a Greek restaurant is pretty informal and meant to be relaxing and enjoyable. So relax and enjoy it like the Greeks do. Greece, I believe, is the only country in Europe to give its civil servants paid leave of absence in November, so that they may return to their villages to help harvest the olives: A perfect example of how much the produce of the land and traditional eating habits still affect modern life. At least four out of ten baby-boomers that live in the big cities -- Athens and Thessaloniki -- come originally from agricultural areas. They have moved to the cities during the last forty years, bringing with them the cooking and culinary habits as practiced in the villages by their mothers and grandmothers. The majority of the people who live and work in the densely populated capital of Greece continues to maintain homes and close ties with their places of birth. They visit them on long weekends, summer holidays, as well as every Christmas and Easter.
They say patsa is good for a hangover, that it is good for the blood like a big bowl of miso soup. I believe these claims. Not that I have ever tested them. In fact the only times I have had patsa was before my hangover when I was too drunk to think about what I was eating. It was an enjoyable experience. I was with my buddy Leigh, fresh from America, our first night in Athens and quite drunk on retsina and we had a wonderful time trying to guess what part of the animal each strange looking piece of meat came from. You see Patsa is not only the intestines. They also throw in the stomach wall and whatever else is handy and not too toxic. The smell can either be interesting or repulsive. Leigh seemd to think the soup smelled like a farm. He called it barnyard soup. I have smelled it where one might call it waste-treatment plant soup. But good patsa should not have an offensive odor, even for someone who is easily offended.
That brings up the eternal question of the word good itself. Mother Theresa was good. Few people would argue this. John Lennon was a good songwriter. Derek Jeter is a good shortstop. But where does patsa fit in? Many people think patsa is good. They will go out of their way to find it and I get e-mail from people determined to go to the Athens meat market for a bowl of Patsa. They know before they leave America that when they go to Greece they will visit the Parthenon and get a bowl of patsa. Everything else is undetermined. But what is it about patsa that would inspire disgust in one person while another person holds it in the same esteem as the Acropolis?
If the spinach is raw, cook and slice thinly. If frozen, defrost. In either case, mix the f�ta cheese with the spinach to make a mixture, adding the chopped garlic. Spread some butter on an oven tray. Open the f�lo package and place each thin pastry (it is as thin as paper) on the tray, buttering each one using a brush. After you have done 8 f�lo slices, place the spinach/f�ta mixture and spread over the entire oven tray, covering the 8 pastry slices. On top of this, place the remaining pastry slices, buttering each one of them as well. Notch the last one creating 2 inch (5 cm) on a side, squares. Place in a medium heat oven and cook till brown.
The Greeks love to eat. Many Americans have a fear of coming to Greece because they are afraid of the food. There's nothing to be afraid of. It's not like Mexican or food from the far eat. Nothing is so spicy you can't eat it and the seasonings they use are the very same ones you have on the spice shelf in your Kitchen. And unlike the crappy oil that terrorizes the hearts of many Americans, Olive oil is good for you and will keep you alive long after many of your friends have taken the next step in their spiritual evolution.You will notice that in Greece the waiter will not come up to your table every three minutes to ask how you are doing or if he can get you anything else or fill your glass with every sip you take like they do in restaurants in America. If you want something else it is your job do get his attention and anything goes within reason. And unlike in America where you get your meal and eat it and that's the end, in Greece it is OK to keep ordering. If something delivered to another table looks good, ask what it is and get it. Nobody is going to think you are greedy or a slob. Eating is meant to be enjoyed and restaurant food is cheap. Eating in a Greek restaurant is pretty informal and meant to be relaxing and enjoyable. So relax and enjoy it like the Greeks do. Greece, I believe, is the only country in Europe to give its civil servants paid leave of absence in November, so that they may return to their villages to help harvest the olives: A perfect example of how much the produce of the land and traditional eating habits still affect modern life. At least four out of ten baby-boomers that live in the big cities -- Athens and Thessaloniki -- come originally from agricultural areas. They have moved to the cities during the last forty years, bringing with them the cooking and culinary habits as practiced in the villages by their mothers and grandmothers. The majority of the people who live and work in the densely populated capital of Greece continues to maintain homes and close ties with their places of birth. They visit them on long weekends, summer holidays, as well as every Christmas and Easter.
They say patsa is good for a hangover, that it is good for the blood like a big bowl of miso soup. I believe these claims. Not that I have ever tested them. In fact the only times I have had patsa was before my hangover when I was too drunk to think about what I was eating. It was an enjoyable experience. I was with my buddy Leigh, fresh from America, our first night in Athens and quite drunk on retsina and we had a wonderful time trying to guess what part of the animal each strange looking piece of meat came from. You see Patsa is not only the intestines. They also throw in the stomach wall and whatever else is handy and not too toxic. The smell can either be interesting or repulsive. Leigh seemd to think the soup smelled like a farm. He called it barnyard soup. I have smelled it where one might call it waste-treatment plant soup. But good patsa should not have an offensive odor, even for someone who is easily offended.
That brings up the eternal question of the word good itself. Mother Theresa was good. Few people would argue this. John Lennon was a good songwriter. Derek Jeter is a good shortstop. But where does patsa fit in? Many people think patsa is good. They will go out of their way to find it and I get e-mail from people determined to go to the Athens meat market for a bowl of Patsa. They know before they leave America that when they go to Greece they will visit the Parthenon and get a bowl of patsa. Everything else is undetermined. But what is it about patsa that would inspire disgust in one person while another person holds it in the same esteem as the Acropolis?
If the spinach is raw, cook and slice thinly. If frozen, defrost. In either case, mix the f�ta cheese with the spinach to make a mixture, adding the chopped garlic. Spread some butter on an oven tray. Open the f�lo package and place each thin pastry (it is as thin as paper) on the tray, buttering each one using a brush. After you have done 8 f�lo slices, place the spinach/f�ta mixture and spread over the entire oven tray, covering the 8 pastry slices. On top of this, place the remaining pastry slices, buttering each one of them as well. Notch the last one creating 2 inch (5 cm) on a side, squares. Place in a medium heat oven and cook till brown.