Fava fav
SALSAS AND DIPS AND SUCH: a friend's collecting that kind of tastes for a book she's putting together, and I pulled together this reminiscence, which I hope suits her pages in this draft or a couple more: "I'm winding a familiar path through the cobbled side alleys of the Ladadika. It's been several years since they cleared out the red-light district on top of what had been the oil and market. Today, many of the small warehouses have been turned into discos, filled with Balkan party animals. But there are meat and fish restaurants, too. I am meeting my friend Eleni at her friend E's taverna, just on the edge of the neighborhood. In the fifth century, this city, Thessaloniki, was the deepest of deep-sea ports. Alexander the Great named the port after his sister. Family counts. When you take a table, you don't have to order. E. sees you from the kitchen or behind the counter, and it's the same ritual as a sushi chef with omakase: you tell them what you don't eat or can't eat but, really, the host expects the table can hold anything. There are small fish that have no names in English. So many simple, natural ingredients, clean flavors from elements hailing from only a few kilometers away, in this humble place two blocks from the sea: the freshest octopus, lightly grilled, scented with lemon; crunchy, fried small fish with no name in English; zesty ripe tomatoes atop crunchy greens; crumbly feta; so many kinds of olives. The fruit of the land is at arm's reach. There's always a small plate of something. All of the history and topography falls away in front of one ever-present dish. While it hails from the peasant cuisine of the island of Santorini, a gorgeous savory staple is fava puree, a swirl of yellow peas with olive oil and lemon, garnished with five or six thin, thin stripes of Spanish onion, pale with slightest hints of purple. I have been known to eat it with a spoon." The best yellow split peas come from Greek markets, or as yellow "daal" from Indian grocers. Crushed, then boiled with a small, peeled onion and about a third-cup of extra virgin olive oil, two cups of simmering beans will reduce into a puree; after taking the onion out, salt to taste and puree in a blender. The result should be covered and set aside overnight, and served with lemon slices, virgin olive oil and slices of onion.
