For our end-of-summer party this year, we let ourselves be inspired by the latest issue of Saveur and made food with a Greek or Mediterranean slant: dolmades, tzatziki, tabouli, grilled flank steak, lemon chicken, grilled eggplant dip, hummus, and so on. For a while we were considering pastitsio (sort of a Greek lasagna), but decided on a greens-filled phyllo pie instead. I thought this would be spanakopita, the classic buttery spinach-feta pie, but then I discovered hortopita.

Hortopita is like spanakopita, but better. It uses any sort of greens mixture (horta in Greek) plus scallions and fragrant herbs, and instead of butter you brush the phyllo with olive oil, making it much less rich. I ended up making this twice this week – the one I made for the party disappeared almost instantly, and since there was phyllo left over I figured I’d just make us another one.

The first one used a gorgeous bunch of rainbow chard from a friend’s garden, plus some fresh beet greens. The second pie was made of purslane from Blue Heron Farm and a bunch of ruby chard. Both were great. Purslane is remarkably like spinach, and melts down into practically nothing, so you can use a lot. This is a great way to eat a huge quantity of greens!

Fresh herbs are key to the flavor of this pie. The world’s not going to end if you don’t have them, but I was really struck by the earthy quality of the blend of dill, mint and parsley. Quantities are highly variable, however. This is very much a use-what-you-have sort of recipe.

Hortopita

adapted from The New Mediterranean Diet Cookbook by Nancy Harmon Jenkins and the Aug/Sept 2010  issue of Saveur

• 1/2 cup olive oil, plus more for brushing the phyllo
• 6 cloves garlic, minced
• 16 scallions, chopped
• 2 pounds greens (chard, purslane, beet greens, spinach, dandelion greens, etc), washed and chopped
• 1 cup each (more or less) fresh dill, mint, and parsley, minced
• 12 oz feta, crumbled
• black pepper
• 12 sheets storebought phyllo, thawed

Preheat the oven to 375°.

Heat the olive oil in a large skillet and add the garlic and scallions. When they begin to soften, add the greens and herbs. Saute, stirring occasionally, until the greens are cooked down and soft, about 15 minutes. Add black pepper to taste and lightly stir in the feta so it stays chunky. Set aside to cool for a few minutes.

Lay out your sheets of phyllo on a damp cloth or wax paper. In a 9×13″ roasting pan, lay a sheet of phyllo into the bottom and lightly brush it with olive oil. Lay another sheet on top, crosswise if possible, and brush with oil. Continue until you have six layers. Pour the greens filling into the pan. Lay six more layers of oil-brushed phyllo on top. Put in the oven and bake 30-40 minutes, until golden brown and bubbling inside.

Serve hot, warm or cold. It’s all good.

A couple of months ago we had a nice splurge at Barbara-Jo’s Books to Cooks. One of our more exciting acquisitions was a copy of Greg Malouf’s Turquoise, a gorgeous production that immediately made me want to go to Turkey (not something that had ever happened to me before). Despite its beauty, I had completely failed to make anything out of it until this week, when I was suddenly feeling adventurous.

We decided to try two new side dishes during the week: a salad of grated celery root, peppers and mint, and a dish of baked mushrooms and chiles in a paprika sauce. I thought they both sounded interesting, and used vegetables that are at least somewhat in season.

The salad came first, alongside a straightforward roast chicken. It was easy to pull together, especially using a food processor to grate the celery root. It also had red onion, red hot pepper, yellow bell pepper, fresh mint, and fresh parsley, all of which I sliced by hand. It  was dressed with olive oil, garlic and white wine vinegar, then tossed with a bit of crumbled feta cheese. The end result? Not bad, like a refined coleslaw with a hint of spiciness.

It held up pretty well. Two days later I improvised a lunch by combining some of the salad with some of the shredded chicken and a spoonful of mayonnaise, piling it on a whole wheat English muffin. Not bad at all.

The mushroom thing was a bit more of a production, but still not difficult. I cooked some chopped red onion in olive oil, stirred in cumin, sweet paprika and hot paprika, then arranged whole button mushrooms, halved and seeded red and green chile peppers, and tomato wedges on top. This was all sprinkled with thyme and salt, then I added a bit of water to the pan and baked it for about half an hour. Once the mushrooms finally began to soften (I spooned some of the pan liquid over them to speed it up) I took the pan out and put it over high heat to boil down the sauce.

The finished dish was interesting. The mushrooms were firm and meaty, but the tomatoes and peppers had gotten very soft, and the sauce was extremely perky (the chiles were perfectly edible, having leached their heat into everything else). We served it as suggested, with some rare steak laid in slices over the top of the vegetables, and I found that I was desperately craving mashed potatoes to soak up the sauce. I liked it better several days later, when I took some to work for lunch along with a small container of crumbled feta. The flavors had mellowed, and the feta provided a much-needed counterpoint to the sauce.

My current feeling is that this cookbook might be more for eye candy than for recipes, but both of these dishes were simple to make and nice enough to eat. I’ll definitely try some others. Does anyone else have a copy of Turquoise? Have you tried any recipes that turned out really great?