‘You know what I think?’ said Amelia. ‘I think one of us must go to Athens and collect the children from Mrs Iatrides – they’re much too small to travel alone. They must be brought back here, and then I’ll ask Daniel to make a plan with Mali. He knows people in high places. American authorities and so on.’
They all – every one of them – thought this was a splendid idea. The only problem was – who was to go? They all offered to go. It would, they said, be such an adventure; but secretly, they all found the idea terrifying. Not one of them had been further than Port Elizabeth, except for Nellie, who had been born in Johannesburg, but left when she was three.
‘We should send two of us,’ suggested Anna.
‘Too expensive,’ said Lily. ‘After all, we will be paying the twins’ fare as well.’
In the end they decided to draw matches. They broke two exactly in half. The third had a shorter tip and a longer end. They put them in Nellie’s empty tea cup, closed their eyes, and dipped in.
‘Oh my glory!’ It was Sophia. Clasping her forehead with one hand, she waved the short match at the eager faces.
‘It’s me, and I’ll vrek,’ she said, white as a sheet.
‘No you won’t,’ they told her quickly. ‘You will love it, Sophia. Here’s the chance to do the greatest act of kindness in your entire life. We’ll arrange everything. Boat ticket, phrase book, papers for the government. You’ll sail across the equator to Athens. Imagine Athens! The Acropolis! The Baklava! You’ll be able to write a book when you come back!’
‘Well, I’ve always wanted to see the Equator,’ Sophia said, rallying somewhat. ‘But you can forget the bull. I’m not a toreador, you know.’
‘Now you’re being stupid,’ argued Amelia. ‘Ollie was talking about 5 000 years ago. Daniel says Greece is one of the most interesting, civilized countries in the world. Now you start packing, and I’ll ask him to start writing letters to people in high places.’
Feeling a little sick, Sophia went home to tell Dawid.
He met her at the gate. ‘Have you heard?’ he said, standing aside to let her through, noticing she was tottering slightly.‘Dimitri will be home tomorrow! Safe and sound, healthy and blooming; the hospital called Daleen to get Ollie’s address.’
Sophia sank into the armchair on the stoep. ‘Dimitri comes, I go,’ she wailed.
‘What are you talking about woman?’
Sophia told him of the plan and her short match.
Dawid was stunned but, not wanting to add to her concern, made light of the whole thing. ‘Ag, Sophiatjie, you’ll have a lot of fun.’
The women decided a farewell party would be in order – a goodbye to Sophia and a welcome to Dimitri, who had arrived the previous week and who seemed, during his three-month stay in hospital, to have regained his former proud stature, powerful build and thick head of hair, just greying at the temples. He kept hugging little Ollie like a doll and then throwing her up above his head so that her skirt floated round her like a mushroom, and she would blush and slap him on the head. ‘What a gorgeous man!’ they said.
It was a merry party. They had all made little gifts for Sophia to pop into her suitcase, and although she was very quiet, for Sophia, there was a definite sparkle in her eyes. ‘Got my papers and my passport,’ she said, patting her big bag, ‘and all I have to remember is to close my window at night.’
‘Porthole, Sophia. You’re not going on a train, remember.’
‘I just hope the captain doesn’t speed. Speed makes my head spin.’
It was just as they were seriously wondering whether Lily should rather go in place of Sophia, that there was a knock at the door. Dimitri jumped up, flung it wide, and let out a roar as in walked Mali, hugging a baby on her hip. Behind her came Stefanos carrying another baby on his shoulder, and behind them came the twins. The women burst into sobs, Dimitri broke into song, the twins leapt onto Ollie, and the babies started to cry.
For a long while no one spoke, there was simply just noise. And finally, when things had calmed down and Ollie – utterly speechless – had taken both babies on her lap, Dimitri spoke. It was while he lay in hospital that he, with the help of Dr Marchant and their village doctor, had been able to contact Carmela, who told them that Mali was already on her way.
Poor Mali. Stefanos had gone from job to job in New York. It had not been as easy as he had expected and Mali was dreadfully unhappy. But she had managed to get work in a laundromat, and had written to her parents every single week, slipping a dollar note or two into each envelope, and making sure that her reply address was clearly printed on the back.
But Mali never received a reply. She grew steadily more and more worried, and would have left Stefanos and gone back to Crete on her own to find out what had happened, but she had had another baby in America, and there was a fourth on the way. Had she known that the letters had never reached Olympia, much of her anguish would have been avoided. Looking back now, she realized her mistake. Thinking she was doing little Chuck Johnson, her landlady’s son, a favour, she had made the mistake of handing the letters to him to post on his way to school, always slipping him a dime for his trouble. The minute he had rounded the corner, however, Chuck would slit the envelope, take out the money, and throw the letter into the nearest dustbin. She caught him in the act just before they were due to leave – for finally, after just under six years of hard work and scrimping, they had saved enough money for passage home for the four of them. The village doctor told Mali the whole story, as promised, and they wasted no time in boarding a ferry back to Athens to fetch the twins. Then they headed for the southern coast of Africa.
After the magnificent reunion, the entire family decided, without hesitation, to stay on in Corriebush. A profitable partnership developed between Dimitri and his son-in-law. Stephanos started a catering business, and Dimitri grew much of the produce for his dishes, working happily in the sunny garden in soil that was fertile and friable. Ollie continued with her little clothing business, Mali washed and cooked, the twins went to school and, because of all the happiness, there was a bit of foxtrot and nine months later, another baby. The house was extended, and every Friday night they had a party for all the good women of Corriebush and their husbands. There was a small Greek delicatessen in Port Elizabeth, and as long as they ordered in time, supplies were not a problem.
There was always lamb on the spit and hot bread and olive oil and dishes with names like Soutzoukákia and Afélia, Stifádo and Moussaka, along with salads and olives, slabs of feta cheese, and an abundance of wine and ouzo. When this took hold, the dancing started.
Mali and Stefanos and Ollie and Dimitri were on the tables in no time, and the others simply skipped from side to side, arms akimbo, wherever they could find a space, and when the plates started going – crashing onto the floor with shouts of laughter and more shots of ouzo – well then, it was always the signal for Sophia to remark that it was a bit of a blerrie waste.
‘Ag, it’s their way, Sophia. It’s the ouzo that gets them so happy. You should try it.’
‘No, I’ll just stick to water thank you,’ Sophia would reply, absent-mindedly sipping from the tiny glass filled with white liquid at her side. It never failed. In no time she was on the table too, having the time of her life.
‘I was really looking forward to seeing the Equator and the Baklava,’ she confessed later.
‘Shame Sophia,’ comforted Lily. ‘But they’re all here now, and going to stay.’
When the cottage became really too small for Ollie and Dimitri, Mali and Stefanos, the twins Yiorgi and Angelina, Yiannis and Grigor and Nikos, and they had managed to put away a nice pile in the bank, they bought the house next door, Number Seven, as well. It had a large garden to join up with Dimitri’s, so he could double his output, and a flat roof, so they were able to build on a second storey. They painted both places snow white, with bright, bright Aegean blue roofs. The women presented them with a wooden plaque to nail on the front gate. They had all taken
a turn at decorating the edges with posies of flowers, and in the centre, Nellie had carefully written the name in bold Gothic script:
Ollie’s Place
Because that’s exactly what it was.
OLYMPIA’S RECIPES
Greek food celebrates a heritage of natural assets: the sun, the soil, the sea, the rain – and the result is a fresh and natural cuisine that incorporates an abundance of vegetables and fruits, fish from their incredible blue waters, meat, wild herbs, honey … To these, add coarse bread, salty white feta, and the stars of every Greek table – olives and olive oil – and there you have it. Simply outrageously delicious. Olympia and her family never abandoned their culinary roots, and at their parties they took huge pleasure in introducing the flavours and memories of their homeland to their friends. Mali did most of the cooking, while Ollie bustled round tasting and advising. They loved to see the delight on the faces of their guests when they sampled the results, but it was the grand finale that was always Ollie’s richest reward. Towards the end of the evening, when they were all full of good food and wine and warmth, when they had finished dancing and making merry, Herman would pick up his guitar, settle his chair under the fig tree, and start strumming. And Stefanos, washing dishes in the kitchen, would pick up the tune in a haunting song, a madinatha. His rich tenor voice would float out to the dark garden and the women would all start crying. This was always the moment that sent Ollie’s universe spinning with joy. She would never be alone again.
Ollie’s Summer Platter
Roasted Fish with Herbs and Garlic Sauce
Pilaff with Mushrooms and Garlic Prawns
Quick Chicken Oregano
Chicken with Red Wine, Figs and Walnuts
Chicken and Aubergine Casserole with Herbs
Saucy Lamb Knuckles with Butternut and Chickpeas
Leg of Lamb, Slow-baked with Herbs
Vegetable and Chickpea Stew with Olive Bread
Chilled Spanspek in Syrup
Rice Pudding
OLLIE’S SUMMER PLATTER
Think roasted vegetables, anchovies and feta, salad leaves and green basil oil, and there it is – a brilliant salad that can be served either as a starter, or as a main course if you double up on the ingredients. Either way, it offers an eye-catching display. Use a really large platter and the vegetables almost dictate the arrangement themselves – salad leaves around the edge, wedges of feta in between, the roasted veg in the centre, the anchovies and olives patterning the top. The basil oil goes into a jug for sprinkling, and a crusty loaf goes somewhere. Despite the description, the whole picture takes little effort and no real expertise to prepare, and will surely be the star at a cold buffet.
2 brinjals (total 300 g), washed, halved and sliced into short fingers
200 g large brown mushrooms, halved
2 medium red peppers, seeded and cut into strips
8 pickling onions, peeled and halved vertically
30 ml (2 Tbsp) each olive oil and water
2 cloves garlic, crushed
2 ml (½ tsp) each dried oregano and sea salt
2 sprigs of fresh rosemary
200 g tomatoes, sliced into quarters and diced
mixed salad leaves and baby spinach, perhaps rocket if you have it
1 x 40 g can anchovied sardines, soaked in milk for 30 minutes
feta cheese, sliced into fingers
black olives (Costas Greek-style are good)
Place the brinjal slices in a colander, sprinkle with salt, and leave for about 30 minutes. Rinse and dry well. Arrange the mushrooms, red peppers and onions in a large baking dish. Mix the oil, water, garlic, oregano and salt together; mix into the vegetables and tuck in the rosemary. Roast at 200 °C for 30 minutes, or until the brinjal is cooked – the other vegetables will be ready. (The aroma is mouthwatering; open your kitchen windows while roasting, the neighbours will love you for it.) Remove from the oven, mix in the fresh tomatoes, discard the rosemary, then cool. Plate as suggested above – remembering that the drained anchovies criss-cross the veggies and the olives go in between – then stand back and look, and be very proud. Serves about 4.
To make the BASIL OIL whizz the following in a blender: a handful of fresh basil leaves; 125 ml (½ cup) olive oil; 60 ml (¼ cup) water; 10 ml (2 tsp) lemon juice; a pinch each of sea salt and sugar. It’s difficult to estimate servings, it depends on the occasion, but if you have more than four diners, it’s best to double up.
ROASTED FISH WITH HERBS AND GARLIC SAUCE
This is the recipe to use if your oven or baking dish can’t cope with a whole big fish. It requires just one side, filleted but skin on, head off, and weighing 900 g–1.1 kg. Cape salmon is a fine choice. Slash the skin side, stuff with herbs, and roast on a bed of onions, tomatoes and wine. The result is superbly succulent, with the creamy garlic sauce the ultimate partner.
2 large onions, sliced into thin rings
45 ml (3 Tbsp) olive oil
3 large tomatoes, unskinned, sliced into thin rounds
sea salt, milled black pepper, a little sugar and dried oregano
125 ml (½ cup) white wine (to add later)
30 ml (2 Tbsp) fresh lemon juice, a few slices of lemon, and butter
STUFFING
1 medium-thick slice crustless bread, white or brown
about 8 fresh basil leaves and 8 tufts of parsley
a few sprigs of fresh marjoram, leaves only
a handful of snipped chives, or spring onion tops
grated rind of ½ medium lemon
2 cloves garlic, chopped
a pinch of sea salt
15 ml (1 Tbsp) olive oil
Use a large baking dish to fit the fish flat, except for the extreme tail end – fold this under, so that the whole side is approximately the same thickness. Having checked this measurement, take the fish out again and set aside. Cover the base of the dish with the onion slices, drizzle with olive oil, top with the tomatoes, and sprinkle with seasoning, sugar and oregano. Bake at 200 °C for 25 minutes.
Meanwhile, make the stuffing by placing the bread, herbs, lemon rind and garlic in the bowl of a processor fitted with the metal blade. Blend well, then tip into a small bowl; add the salt and bind with the oil. Season the skinned side of the fish lightly, then turn over and make 6–7 deep diagonal slashes along the length. Gather up the stuffing and push it into the slits. Remove the baking dish with its juicy onion-tomato mixture from the oven, pour the wine over, then place the fish on top (skin side up). Drizzle with the lemon juice, arrange a row of lemon slices along the back, dot with a few pats of butter and bake for about 25 minutes or until cooked through. Serve from the dish, slicing between the slashes, and spooning over the soft onions, tomatoes and lovely juices. Serve with a green salad, hot, crusty bread, and the cold garlic sauce. Serves 4–6.
Greek-style garlic sauce
This is always served cold, even with hot foods, especially fried fish and brinjals. It is also good with salads, and as a dip for raw vegetables.
1 large potato
2–3 cloves garlic, crushed
90 ml (6 Tbsp) olive oil or half olive and half vegetable oil
30 ml (2 Tbsp) white wine vinegar (I use white balsamic)
45 ml (3 Tbsp) ground almonds
30 ml (2 Tbsp) water
a little sea salt
Boil the potato, then peel and mash – do not add any liquid. Measure by pressing firmly into a measuring cup – you should have 125 ml (½ cup). Spoon into the bowl of a processor fitted with the metal blade, along with all the other ingredients. Process until the mixture becomes white and smooth; check, and add another pinch of salt if necessary, spoon into a small glass bowl and refrigerate, covered, for 3–4 hours to allow the flavours to mellow before serving a small dollop with each portion of fish.
PILAFF WITH MUSHROOMS AND GARLIC PRAWNS
A pilaff can be a simple side dish of rice cooked in stock, or fattened up as a main dish by adding meat, veg or poultry. This recipe feature
s prawns as the extra ingredient, and because they don’t come cheap, the pilaff is padded out with mushrooms and tomatoes, with the garlicky, buttery prawns and a crumble of feta coming in at the end. The result, in about 30 minutes flat, is a pink, succulent pilaff ready to be ladled into deep bowls for individual servings.
150 ml (3/5 cup) tomato purée
300 ml (11/5 cups) fish stock (chicken is definitely second best here)
30 ml (2 Tbsp) olive oil
1 medium onion, finely chopped
250 g button mushrooms, wiped and sliced
250 ml (1 cup) uncooked white long-grain rice, rinsed and drained
2 medium tomatoes, skinned and chopped
60 ml (¼ cup) white wine
2 bay leaves
5 ml (1 tsp) each sea salt and sugar
15 ml (1 Tbsp) olive oil
30 ml (2 Tbsp) butter
300 g (or more) shelled, deveined, defrosted prawns*
3–4 cloves garlic, crushed
a squeeze of fresh lemon juice
90–100 g feta cheese, cubed
a few fresh basil leaves, torn
Heat the tomato purée with the stock, then set aside. Heat the oil in a wide, deep saucepan, and add the onion and mushrooms. Toss over a low heat until softening, then add the rice. Stir until coated, then add the hot liquid, tomatoes, wine, bay leaves, seasoning and sugar. Bring to the boil, then cover and simmer over very low heat until the rice is tender and the liquid absorbed – about 25 minutes. Meanwhile, heat the second quantity of oil and butter in a frying pan and add the prawns. Toss until pink, curled, opaque and cooked through – this does not take long. Towards the end of the cooking period, crush in the garlic, and sprinkle in the lemon juice. Tip the whole lot into the cooked pilaff, and fork in the feta and basil. Remove from the heat, cover, and stand for 5 minutes. Remove the bay leaves, check seasoning, and serve. Serves 4–5.
* If using a larger quantity of prawns, add a little extra butter/oil when cooking.
QUICK CHICKEN OREGANO
Fig Jam and Foxtrot Page 12