| Restaurant Profile Spur Gastropub 113 Blanchard Street (206) 728-6706 Chef team Brian McCracken and Dana Tough are proud advocates of New American cuisine which they showcase in their unabashedly mouth-watering Gastropub menu at Spur. Look for signature dishes such as pork belly sliders (with smoked orange marmalade, arugula and mustard), seasonal rotations such as pan-seared trout (with mizuna, farro and almond), and a daily chalkboard menu offering more fantastical fare. Cocktail pairings and desserts are a vibrant cornerstone of Spur’s menu. Signature cocktails include Gentleman’s Lemonade (roasted lemons, honey and Jack Daniel’s) and Corsican (bourbon, Aperol, lemon, orange, sugar and champagne) cocktails plus classics such as the Hotel Savoy’s 1925-created Hanky Panky. Housed in a historic Seattle building in Belltown, Spur nods to the area’s pioneer, fisherman and occasional outlaw roots. Spur features a rotating photo exhibit projected on restaurant walls. The first artist is Barbie Hull. An intimate urban pub in Belltown, Spur is open daily from 5 pm to 2 am. |
Climbing a steep hill in Athens, I stopped abruptly. Scattered among the broken glass and flattened beer cans poked several dusty but familiar-looking plants. How could wild thyme and santolina (lavender cotton) be growing wild in the middle of a sprawling Greek city?
Greece is simply filled with herbs, and evidently they grow everywhere. “Whenever I think of Greece, I immediately smell the scent of wild thyme and marjoram blowing in the hot sun,” says Christine Cushing, a first-generation Greek-Canadian and the author of Pure Food (Whitecap Books, 2007). “The parched soil in Greece produces some of the most aromatic and flavorful herbs I have ever tasted.” And this fragrant supply does not go to waste, she notes: “We Greeks use herbs in just about anything, and in copious amounts.”
Oregano, or rigani in Greek, is the omnipresent herb. Its name comes from the Greek roots ori, meaning “mountains,” and ganos, meaning “jewel”—or “jewel of the mountains.” Origanum vulgare originates from the mountain slopes of Greece. With a pungent fragrance and a heat-filled bite, fresh Greek oregano has an unforgettable taste. Unfortunately, most oregano available in American markets is common oregano, an herb that lacks the big punch of its Greek relative. Identify true Greek oregano by its fuzzy, dark green leaves and tiny white flowers, and then use it fresh with other strong flavors, such as capers, anchovies, rosemary and olives. Toss it into a flavored butter to top lamb chops, sauté it with artichokes and lemon, or roast it with zucchini and garlic.
Even dried Greek oregano is concentrated and flavorful. Fabulous in tomato sauces (its nickname is the “pizza herb,” a term coined by World War II GIs returning from Italy), it is equally delicious with roasted onions or simply crumbled over feta drizzled with honey.
Mint—most commonly spearmint, both fresh and dried—is also liberally used in Greece. The Greeks consume mint in all types of salads, from tomato to watermelon; they sprinkle it on grilled fish and feature it as the main ingredient of herbal teas. The sweet flavor of mint (dyosmos) adds highlights to meatballs, roasted eggplant or pepper salads and tart Greek yogurt.
But oregano and mint are not the only herbs in the Hellenic pantry. Cushing lists dill, parsley, rosemary, thyme, marjoram and basil as important flavorings to the country’s cuisine. I would add sweet bay, chervil, coriander, savory, tarragon, wild fennel and wild celery to the culinary inventory. Historically, various herbs were associated with different regions, such as wild fennel (maratho) in the Aegean Islands and chervil in the Peloponnese. But this type of regional cooking is fast disappearing.
Although Greeks use most herbs generously (fresh dill is chopped and stuffed into everything from bread and herbal tea to soup and grape leaves), a few select herbs are not. Rosemary branches are predominantly used as basting wands for grilling meat and fish. And basil, although found in pots on every Greek windowsill, was for many years grown only for good luck and to repel flies. Perhaps, because basil needed cultivation to thrive, the Greeks were reluctant to part with it, especially since almost all of their other herbs grew wild.
Traditionally, most herbs were simply foraged on village hillsides on daily treks that also yielded wild greens, another essential of the Greek diet. But many Greeks are now highly urbanized and rely on farmers markets and shops for their herbal wants and needs.
On one of my last days on Crete, at an outdoor baking demonstration, I watched a cook mix pastry dough. As she set down the bowl to tend an open fire, she paused. Grabbing a large sprig of basil, she stuck it on top of the dough before leaving. For a moment, I wondered if it was a garnish or maybe flavoring. Then I understood. No need for plastic wrap; it was to keep away the bugs.
The recipes I’ve included here are redolent with Greek herbs, including dill and thyme (Black-Eyed Peas with Lemon, Herbs and Capers), cilantro (Cypriot Salad with Herbs and Olives), mint and parsley (Rice-Stuffed Tomatoes) and fennel (Chian Malathropites). Though tracking down Greek herbs is not as easy as plucking them from a hillside in Seattle, it’s worth the extra effort to impart these dishes with the true flavors of Greece.
Jean Galton is a Seattle-based food writer and food stylist, who thinks a lot about Greece.