Blu Aubergine Blog

QUICK BITE: Greek Salad

QUICK BITE: Greek Salad

Greek salad: the term conjures up many things to many people. For some, it's a mainstay at U.S. Greek diners, usually pretty drab, or maybe huge with mediocre produce and too much over-salted supermarket feta cheese. But to others, it's a revelation, a composed salad, often lettuce-free, comprised of juicy, ripe tomatoes, thinly sliced red onions, slivers of crisp green pepper, and fresh cucumber slices, doused in delicious Greek olive oil and a splash of vinegar, topped with authentic sheep's milk feta cheese and dusted with fresh oregano. The really good ones include briny capers. These are the Greek salads of which I rhapsodize today.

In Greece, and particularly the islands of the Cyclades from which I write now, I often order these salads (or some version thereof) twice a day. When the tomatoes are grown in the rocky soil of Naxos or the volcanic soil of Santorini, their flavor is concentrated and they're unbelievably sweet, their thick skins pushed to bursting under the pressure of their turgid flesh.

The cucumbers are firm and heavy with water, their aromatic melon-musty goodness pairing with the bite of the red onion. And there is crisp vegetal tang of the green pepper, the salty feta from the milk of locally-roaming sheep and the capers that taste of the sea itself...

There's not much about a Greek salad that's complicated, but like most simple Mediterranean food, the dish is only as good as the quality of its components. Luckily for the Greeks (and all who eat there), farming still accounts for a nice chunk of the country's economy, and they're still growing things they've grown in this rich soil for millennia. The tomatoes we enjoyed in Koufonissi (at right), in the small Cyclades, came from the island of Naxos nearby, where a lot of farming for the surrounding smaller islands is done.

They were some of the best tomatoes I've had in recent memory -- which is saying a lot, coming from a Jersey girl who lived in Italy for nearly a decade! The local cheese in Koufonissi, which was often used in place of feta, is called mithizra, and it's fluffy and fresh, what you'd get if a tangy Greek feta and a creamy ricotta had a cheese baby! This was also used on a variation of a Greek salad with Cretan roots -- chopped tomatoes and red onions with the cheese and lots of capers served over hardened pieces of Cretan dark grain bread, moistened with a liberal dousing of local olive oil. It's topped off with plenty of dried oregano. And it's delicious. Again, simple with top-quality primary ingredients. It's the way that people in this corner of the world have been living long, healthy lives for thousands of years. And the gorgeous view doesn't hurt, either.

RESTAURANT REVIEWS: SANTAELLA -- San Juan, Puerto Rico

RESTAURANT REVIEWS: SANTAELLA -- San Juan, Puerto Rico

There's nothing I like better than a warm-weather escape when it's absolutely frigid back home. And the past few years, my timing was perfect, as I fled from snow and ice and sub-zero temperatures. My latest escape? Puerto Rico, an island so proximate to New York that I'm truly surprised it took me so long to finally make it there!

And what an island it is. Or, at least, the north coast and San Juan, where we spent a fabulous five days. The city of San Juan is like an even-more-Latin Miami, and then Old San Juan takes you back to colonial Spain, even parts of Southern Sicily can be found in the wrought iron balconies on the candy-colored buildings, and the cobblestone streets. And after the holidays, it's still got a very festive vibe. So, we did the beach retreat, the city room on the shore, and ventured into various parts near and far for some amazingly good meals.

The highlight of our dining experiences, however, was clear: Santaella, a creation of local chef José Santaella. With stints a Le Bernardin in New York and Gary Danko in San Francisco -- two of America's best restaurants, hands-down -- the chef's top-notch pedigree is undisputed. Santaella's reverence for seafood certainly stems from his time living on a tropical island, and his urban chef stints surely cemented his love for fresh fish in all its forms. At Santaella restaurant, located in an offbeat neighborhood near the central market in San Juan, the modern dining room is an urban tropical escape. The well-informed staff are warm and helpful, never imposing.

The vibe of the place makes you love it even before your first sip of a delicious libation, like a Sandia mojito (with fresh watermelon), or a tamarind margarita. Moving on, the menu is divided into Nibbles, Specials, Salads, "Barely Touched" (this is crudo and ceviche), and Main Courses, then Desserts. This food is fun, vivacious, expertly prepared, and really delicious, AND, the portions are quite generous.

We started with the Hawaiian Waho Ono ceviche, with tropical juices, radishes, sweet potato, and cucumber with tortilla crisp strips. This was everything a tuna ceviche should be -- bright, happy, crispiness of varying degrees, and a gorgeous meaty tuna barely "cooked" by tart-sweet tropical fruit juices. Seriously yum, and very light. This was good because we ordered a lot of food. 

We had the house specialty empanadas that evening, a mix of meat and vegetables like mushrooms and peas. These were expertly prepared and delicious, and not at all bland like some empanadas can be. All in, a nice counterpart to the light tuna ceviche.

Moving on, we ordered another delicious seafood "crudo"-type dish, the "Japanese Crazy Salad," as it was dubbed. This was a spicy crabmeat salad (cold) layered with seaweed salad and avocado, on top of a plantain fritter as large and round as a personal pan pizza. It was a vibrant mish-mash of tastes and textures, reminiscent of sushi restaurant flavors but more interesting...and a lot of fun.

After a delicious salad and a few croquettes of the day, we finished up the savory part of our meal with a casserole of baby octopus, chorizo and chickpeas with sherry. The servers had warned us that this portion was not for the faint of heart, but since we were going through our meal grazing and sharing everything, tapas-style (and since I was with The Big Guy, who was never daunted by a plate of food), we laughed at the suggestion that something might be, well, too much. But this was a healthy portion. Very healthy. And the dish itself, with a huge nod to the Spanish ancestry of Puerto Rico, was rich and meaty and delicious. We were eating an early dinner before heading to the airport to catch our late flight back to New York City, so we definitely wanted to be satisfied, but not uncomfortably overstuffed. This was our last meal in Puerto Rico, however, so we decided to split a dessert because: vacation!

The coconut everything on this tropical island made me a very happy camper. So we decided on a signature Santaella dessert, the coconut and almond custard with a delicious coconut ice cream. The custard tart was very hot, its caramelized crispy almond cover shattering as we dug our spoons into the warm creamy sweetness underneath. The ice cream was the cool counterpoint to the creme brulee -- essentially this was baked and frozen versions of the same intensely flavored coconut custard, sharing a plate. After the meal, I inquired about purchasing the cookbook I'd seen on display at the hostess stand when we came in, as I was a chef and first-timer to Puerto Rico. With the same courteous manners and smiling service we'd enjoyed all evening, our waiter offered to get chef to personalize the cookbook, signed and dedicated to me. It was thoughtful and sweet, and really, what more could I ask for? It was the perfect ending to a wonderful trip, our first but certainly not our last jaunt to this island nation just a hop, skip, and a brief plane ride away from my home back in the cold of a New York winter. 

SANTAELLA

219 Calle Canals

La Placita de Santurce

San Juan, PR 00907

Tel: +1 (787) 725-1611

 

Posted by Dana Klitzberg at Monday, February 01, 2016