herbed olive and walnut spread

about four and a half years ago,

i was preparing to host friends

for the weekend.

for most people,

that means

cleaning a bit,

making restaurant reservations

and maybe,

planning a meal or two

to make for their guests.

for me,

living in a studio apartment -

a place in which

i made a big production when

showing people around: this is

the living room, and then this

(pulling them two feet

closer to me) is the bedroom,

right there to the left of your foot,

that piece of floor is the

dining room -

overnight guests meant

a complete overhaul.

i mean, really. when your

guests are going to spend

the night sleeping on the floor,

an arms-length away,

there is not a space to even

hide anything.

and making dinner?

that's really out of the question.

while it may have been fine for

me to make a mess - because there

was no other choice, in my surprisingly

spacious kitchen (it's relative, you see) -

and then for larry and i to eat dinner

on the floor, it's not really the kind

of behavior you can

impose on people nice enough to point

out that you're hosting them

in shoebox.

so instead,

when i had guests, i opted

to make reservations and start

the night with appetizers that could

be made ahead of time -

four people could comfortably

sit on the love seat and two

small chairs i kept hidden

in the corner for such occasions.

and i did have a little side table.

so when our friends were

coming to stay,

i took a familiar route.

make delicious nibbles of things

so that people were so

overcome by the food,

they forgot to focus on the

fact that my mixer sat

next to the couch, like pretend art

and, that my television was

on the dresser.

it sounds silly now, but i really

did think i could distract with food.

i settled on two

spreads:

blue cheese with caramelized shallots,

and

olive and walnut.

both good, i took a particular liking

to the slightly spicy, mustardy and

herb-infused olives.

i couldn't wait

to serve them the next night.

the next night.

i got an extremely

good lesson in knowing your audience.

i set the dips out and found out that

one of them despised

both blue cheese and olives.

i didn't blame her -

if someone put a plate

of fennel in front of me,

i don't think all the

trying and politeness

in the world would help me finish,

let alone start in on it.

but, i was still bummed.

that week, i used the spread a lot

in other dishes,

deciding that even though it hadn't

been a hit with everyone,

i had still stumbled upon

something delicious.

--

my mom's friend, judy, hosts

us and a couple other families

for a gathering every september.

it's a night based on tradition:

my mom always brings the chicken,

judy always make brisket,

someone always brings a platter

of homemade chocolates from his shop

and another is responsible for the

kugel and creamed herring.

it goes on.

over the years, i had played around,

making dessert,

trying different appetizers,

but nothing stuck.

that year, i decided to test the

olive spread with another group.

it was quite well received and i

felt relieved that i finally had my thing.

it's nice.

i'm always so concerned with

finding the perfect recipe

for the situation.

i spend hours - if not days -

on the internet,

reading through my cookbooks

and weighing out my options.

it's more than a relief to have

one thing that is on auto pilot.

but more than that,

this is a recipe worth making

over and over. it is quite

simple, especially with two

new additions:

1) i have upgraded from a

mini food processor

to a standard so that i can now

make everything in

one batch instead

of three.

2) two years ago, i finally gave in

and purchased pitted olives

instead of pitting my own.

so worth it.

but even with those original

handicaps, this recipe was nothing

to get nervous about.

thanks to the walnuts and spices,

it will always be very good and simple.

the crunch of the nuts

give the otherwise smooth dish,

welcome texture and obviously, a nuttiness

that plays well against

the briny olives.

over the years, i've taken to adding

more mustard and herbs, which

i think is worth it to make the

whole thing pop.

oh, a couple things about the herbs.

i've switched to dried because as

much as i'm a fan of fresh, it's hard

to rationalize buying a huge bunch

for 1 teaspoon-worth -

and, i'm the kind of person

who typically keeps away

from anything marked herbed

out of fear of intense herbiness.

but in this case, they are still

a background note -

and one that works beautifully.

i've also upped the cayenne because

i like the idea of a very slight

gentle heat at the end of each bite.

ultimately, this really is

a very simple food processor recipe,

so nothing is stopping you from

tweaking here and there until

it's adjusted to suit you perfectly.

i secretly always wish for leftovers

because the spread is perfect

with tomatoes on bread

and more recently, i've used it to mimic

a very memorable dish

that i enjoyed in charleston a few years ago:

hot pasta, tossed with tapenade,

goat cheese and a few splashes of pasta water.

once, i mixed all three together before adding

to the pasta, but i realized that the restaurant

had been right, there's something delicious

about an occasional bite having only

goat cheese or only the olives.

so now, i add dollops of each to the pasta,

then mix. it makes the whole thing

taste hand-crafted.

last week, i made the spread

for the sixth time and i absolutely

like it as much now as i did the

first time i served it.

everyone else seems to, too.

oh, and when larry and i moved

in together, i felt instantly

spoiled with space.

we put a table in our dining room

(i had a dining room!)

and the mixer on the kitchen counter.

we got a bookshelf.

it's amazing what you can be grateful for.

we invited the same couple back,

made neutral appetizers,

and ate dinner and dessert -

which everyone seemed to enjoy -

at that treasured table

and that night, we gave them their

very own room to sleep in.

they even had a door.

herbed olive and walnut spread

adapted from pane caldo in chicago, via bon appetit magazine

by all means, buy the pitted olives, but do yourself two huge favors. first, make sure you buy beautiful purple olives and not the greenish-brown ones - the color makes this dish. also, even if you buy the pitted, take the time to check each before they go in the food processor. the process is never perfect and a pit could slip by (sorry, alan!). i always double the recipe, so that's what i'm giving you here, but it can obviously, be easily halved. also, as always, make it, taste and adjust. personally, i like flavors prominent, so i've increased the quantities of everything.

3 1/2 cups pitted kalamata olives (about 1 pound), rinsed and drained well

3/4 cup chopped walnuts, toasted and divided

6 tablespoons olive oil

2 tablespoons coarse-grained mustard

3-4 cloves garlic, peeled and halved

2 teaspoons dried thyme

2 teaspoons dried oregano

1 1/2 teaspoons dried sage

1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper

in bowl of food processor, finely chop olives and 6 tablespoons toasted walnuts. add olive oil, mustard, garlic, thyme oregano, sage and cayenne pepper; blend to combine. taste and adjust. transfer olive mixture to bowl; stir in remaining walnuts. cover and chill until serving.

i like to serve this with pita triangles, grape tomatoes and sliced zucchini and squash. the original recipe called for slices of a baguette.

a meal to remember

i grew up with my mom

making hummus - to us,

it was middle eastern fare,

which we brought to school

for bring-a-recipe-that-represents-

your-heritage-day. it was the

appetizer that was served

before holiday dinners

and the comfort food that i

took back with me to college,

eating with carrots

for lunch instead of swiping

my meal card.

it was all that.

but, in my eyes, it wasn't greek.

and yet, until college, save for occassional

spanakopita, it was the closest i

came to greek food.

i started my first real job 3 months

before my 23rd birthday.

all my life, 

i had claimed that i wanted to write.

so i went to school to get 

my journalism degree,

worked on the college paper,

got an internship

at the asbury park press, 

another after graduation at a men's magazine,

suffered a six week stint at a county newspaper

covering board meetings, 

where they actually

spent hours fighting over 

whether or not the

town should have access

to the YES network,

and then, just when i had flopped myself on

my mom's bed, 

crying and telling her that i

was wrong, 

i don't want to write for a living,

i finally landed my first job

as an editorial assistant 

at a women's magazine.

in the decor department.

trading spaces was huge at the time.

i had made it.

then...

my grandfather passed away 

10 days before i started. 

the magazine was an hour and 15 minutes

from my house - without traffic - and i had never

driven on the 

new jersey turnpike 

before my

interview. 

i started the day

after memorial day, 

unsure of the policies - could

i wear open-toed shoes, should i don a skirt? 

do i bring lunch? 

i had to silently 

plead with truck drivers to

let me into their lane several times, 

after repeatedly almost ending up

in staten island, new york city

and at the newark airport. 

i had been stuck behind an accident for 5 miles.

i didn't know where to park once i got there.

i was flustered.

yet, i was determined to be calm, professional,

serious. 

never let them see you sweat.

and then, as i waited with the receptionist,

cathy and trish walked in.

i had loved cathy from the second the

interview started. she had 

made me feel like i was giving

legitimate answers, like i might not

be some dumb 22-year-old who

thinks she'll be the next paige davis

and like maybe, my clips weren't half bad.

and, she was funny and friendly

and i knew when she offered me coffee,

that if i took it (which i didn't) i wouldn't

be judged.

during the interview, tricia, 6-months-pregnant

with her first child walked out to introduce

herself (or as i later learned, to check me out).

i had crossed my fingers to

work with them.

they took me back to our cubicle

and into our life as a 3-person

department, never making me feel

stupid or slow for not remembering

where the stapler was kept.

at lunch time,

cathy announced we 

were ordering and got us a large

greek salad and hummus with pitas

to share.

as i stared at the grape leaf in

my salad, trying to decide if 

i would like it, 

cathy pulled out a picture -

tricia, cathy and three men -

before saying, 

this is tricia's husband, my fiance 

and their third brother. do 

you have a boyfriend?

oh my, i thought.

but, so began the best 

work relationship 

i've been lucky enough to have, 

amazing friendships,

and, also, my love affair with greek food.

i fell hard for taramosalata,

a dip made from fish roe that almost

no one else will eat with me,

shrimp gyros, avoglemeno,

different types of feta and olives, 

vegetarian eggplant moussaka,

skordalia, tzatziki and too many

other things to name.

and over time, i started to really

see the beauty and deliciousness

in properly made dolmades,

or stuffed grape leaves.

when fresh, they're filled with

herb-dotted tender rice,

bound together tightly by

a briny grape leaf. they're a treat

tucked into salads, hiding in 

pita with vegetables, or garnishing

a plate the way a pickle might.

cool and refreshing, they're not

heavy and ultimately,

a sum greater than its parts.

until i noticed recipes popping

up everywhere,

i always thought it was a dish

better left to the professionals,

or, families

who grew up with this as a traditional

treat. but, i am usually up for a

(kitchen) challenge,

so when tasked with bringing an 

appetizer for memorial day,

i steered clear of the cheddar

and crackers

and headed straight toward...

questionable behavior.

i'm not so great at precision,

i was making three other dishes,

i had to shop late afternoon

for almost all of the ingredients,

and yet, i thought this was

a good idea.

i was looking forward to the

rice mixture, which was simple 

enough: 

sauteed onions and garlic,

rice, cumin (oddly enough), 

dried currants and chicken 

broth, oregano and pine nuts.

and putting that part together

was easy.

very easy.

i felt like a super hero.

what had i been worried about?

but i looked at the clock and

i had started later than

i thought, and oh, i just wanted

to lay down.

i remembered, thank goodness,

another trick i had learned from culinary

school to help cool things down quickly.

so i covered a baking pan with 

parchment, spread the rice over

and let it sit until it was room

temperature.

next, i figured that rolling the leaves

would be like anything else. 

the first one or two wouldn't be

easy, but after that, i would

be on a roll.

did i mention i'm terrible

at things like this?

the rice was the perfect consistency

and yet, i couldn't roll

the leaves tight enough,

some were breaking, the rice

was falling out on the cutting

board and i had a large pile

of discarded leaves.

then, larry suggested that i

lay two leaves, just overlapping

to give myself a greater surface

area to roll. 

i'm embarrassed to say that i laughed.

but then, as he walked out of the 

room, i tried it. 

it worked! 

yes, i'm sure the grape leaf to rice 

ration increased 

to ridiculous proportions.

but it worked and suddenly they

started to line up on the cutting

board like obedient soldiers.

it was then that i noticed,

that in my frantic state,

i had rolled some the wrong

way and instead of hiding inside,

a lot of the line-up boasted very

visible veins.

i steamed them, 

let them cool, 

and then 

wrapped them into two containers:

can be viewed by the public

and

must be kept in hiding.

the next morning, i made

a quick dip of yogurt and feta

(i've never heard of dipping

dolmades, but a lot of recipes

recommend it). on the way down,

i panicked that the second people

picked them up, the rolls would fall

apart and called my family,

calming down only when

my mother said i could use

her pita chips to round out

the plate.

the dip was a huge hit and

at the end of the night,

the nutty grape leaves were all gone,

too. some guests had never

tasted one before, and i felt

like i was delivering a psa

on greek food,

but, i really do believe most 

liked them.

i would love to make a salad

and use them traditionally.

it's one of those foods that makes

me feel like i've come a long

way and oddly, because really,

it's just a grape leaf, often

makes me think of a whole

lot more than how much

i enjoy greek food.

i know that cathy and tricia

were eating greek before 

i started at the 

magazine,

but because over the years

we spent so many birthdays 

at the local greek restaurant,

ordered from them so 

often, celebrated

my last day at the job almost

six years later with a greek delivery

and met at the restaurant two days

before my wedding (where

cathy did a reading and tricia's

daughters were the flower girls),

i like to pretend that our first 

shared salad, was everyone's first.

and even if not - there's no harm

in delusion, right?

pinenut and currant dolmades

adapted from bon appetit magazine

i know that i couldn't roll these, but i'm very much under the belief that i just lack certain coordination skills that most people possess. i also am under the belief that these are not actually hard to roll once a normal person gets the hang of them. even though i changed the rice mixture considerably (left out the parsley and mint, used low-sodium chicken broth, added oregano and reduced the oil) i still think it was really delicious - it would be great, served piping hot as a side dish.

1 jar (8 ounces) grape leaves, drained

3 tablespoons olive oil, divided

1 large white onion, peeled and diced

3 large cloves garlic, peeled and diced

1 cup long grain white rice

1 1/2 teaspoons ground cumin

1 tablespoon dried oregano

4 cups low-sodium, fat-free chicken broth, divided

1/2 cup dried currants

1/3 cup pine nuts, toasted

1/2 lemon, juiced

place grape leaves in bowl with cold water; let sit 30 minutes.

in large saucepot over medium heat, heat 1 1/2 tablespoons olive oil; add onion and garlic and cook 10 minutes, stirring sometimes, until very tender. add rice, cumin and oregano and cook 1 minute more, stirring constantly. add 2 cups chicken broth and currants; bring mixture to a boil. reduce heat to low; simmer, cover and cook 20 minutes or until broth is absorbed and rice is tender. transfer to a bowl and stir in pine nuts, salt and pepper. let cool.

drain grape leaves; cut off stems. place one grape leaf, vein side-up on cutting board. place a heaping tablespoon on end of grape leaf. roll, like an eggroll, tucking sides in first. (if this doesn't work for you either, feel free to steal my two grape leaf trick). repeat with remaing leaves and filling.

place stuffed grape leaves, seamside down, in large 14" skillet or two 12" skillets. divide remaining oil and chicken broth amongst skillets; squeeze with lemon juice. cover; bring heat to medium-low and simmer 30 minutes, or until all liquid is absorbed. uncover and let rolls cool completely. transfer to platter or sealed container and store in the fridge. can be made one day ahead of time.

lemony feta yogurt dip

greek yogurt is great because you do not have to spend time draining it - also, because it is so thick and delicious, i always buy the fat-free and no one ever knows. or cares. with this dip, play around, adjusting seasonings until it suits your taste. you can serve it with the dolmades, on a sandwiches, with pitas or with veggies - and probably a million other things.

1 container (17.6 ounces) fat-free greek yogurt, like fage 0%

1/2 lemon, juiced

1/2 cup crumbled feta cheese

1 clove garlic, peeled and finely chopped

2 teaspoons dried oregano

kosher salt

black pepper

in bowl, combine all ingredients; season with salt and pepper. cover and chill. sprinkle with paprika, if desired.