THE ULTIMATE GREEK FEAST: FROM MENU TO TABLE
The Ultimate Greek Feast
Some meals stay with you long after the plates are cleared, and not just for how they tasted, but for who taught you to make them. Last year in Mykonos, I spent an afternoon in the hands of Sofia and Ana, two beautifully bossy, endlessly generous women from a local Mykonian catering company who came around to teach me a handful of their specialties. Sofia took me through the ins and outs of how to layer filo until it was exactly right. And Ana — the self-proclaimed queen of calamari (she was right!)— taught me hers, along with what might be the easiest and most ridiculously simple Greek dish I've ever brought to my own table: fava.
I had been putting off recreating that afternoon for a while. Some recipes feel like they deserve the right moment, and this autumn, that in-between season, finally felt like the one.
Setting the Table
I set the table without much fuss: a linen that was slightly too big for a bit of rustic elegance. There were beautiful bits and pieces from Roomers in City Walk mixed in with a chipped ceramic bowl I refuse to retire, and a few candles lit even though it wasn't dark yet. There's something about a Greek table specifically that asks for this kind of care — not complicated, just generous, the way the food and culture itself is, well, generous.
What Was on It
Like most menus when I‘m hosting at home, this one was built around a couple of anchor dishes. I knew I wanted to include all the dishes from my Mykonian feast, along with a few proteins for balance, some light, and others hearty.
Spanakopita. Golden and holding its shape, begging to be shared, and layered the way Sofia taught me — filo brushed sheet by sheet until it crisps into something you want to sink your teeth into.
Grilled Feta-Stuffed Bifteki. Charred on the outside, with a generous mouthful of feta smack in the middle when you bite into it. Authentic, rustic, but very surprising. A side of my garlicky, labneh tzatziki was the perfect partner for this dish.
Whole Seabass, Barbecued to Perfection. Simple, smoky, letting the fish do all the talking. Not more complicated than that. It’s such a simple dish that requires nothing but olive oil, salt, and a bit of patience on the grill.
Greek Salad. No feast like this is complete without one — feta, capers, and slices of red onion, finished with a generous sprinkling of Greek oregano. I placed it on the table - deconstructed in a ll its glory - with the delicious components sitting beside a platter of seasoned tomatoes and assembled it just before serving.
Ana's Fava. Just onion, fava, lemon, and olive oil, whipped into something so creamy you'd swear there was more to it. There isn't, and that's the whole beauty of it.
“Like most Mediterranean feasts, the freshest ingredients dictate what ends up on the table. Nothing too complicated or elaborate, just good, honest food and simple techniques that can be adapted to your own cooking style. A generous table can be as UNfussy or as Dressed up as you like — And that, to me, is the beauty of cooking at home.”
Calamari. Ana's other specialty, seasoned with nothing but salt from the sea. I made one fried and one grilled, and both magically disappeared almost as fast as they hit the table.
And then, as it always goes at a table like this, everyone just reached and helped themselves. Nobody waited to be served. Nobody portioned anything out. It was abundance in its truest form — food piled generously enough that going back for more wasn’t even a question, just an assumption. And that's the real lesson we can all take away from Sofia and Ana: that a Greek table isn't never about restraint, it's about celebrating plenty, and about trusting the people around it to help themselves to it.
The full recipes for the spanakopita, fava, and fried calamari from this feast are posted separately in their own categories — go find them and set your own table. You can find all the other recipes in my book DEVOUR: Recipes for an Insatiable Appetite.