The Ladies of the Philoptochos Society Tell Us What to Do with Eggplant

I wasn't sure what to expect from Popular Greek Recipes (The Ladies of the Philoptochos Society, Holy Trinity Greek Orthodox Church, Charleston, South Carolina, copyright 1976, 1999 printing). Would it be full of actual Greek (or at least Greek-inspired) recipes? Would it have a sprinkling of Greek recipes among a field of recipes featuring cream-of-something soup, canned chow mein noodles, and gelatin salads?

The ruins on the cover and the angular font suggest this book will be pretty serious about sticking to the Greek theme, and it's mostly accurate.

One of the earliest recipes in this book suggested to me just how difficult it was to make Greek (or at least Greek-ish) food decades ago: the Cucumber Dip.

The Greek name is written underneath in parentheses, and I quickly realized that Satziki is such a familiar dip now that I even knew the current preferred spelling: tzatziki. In other words, I imagine most mainstream Americans would know what the dip is if we were just given the Greek name. That was clearly not the case then. Plus, the first step of this recipe is to make your own Greek yogurt because Greek yogurt was just not something most people could buy in the store at that time. Now, it seems like at least a third of the contents of the yogurt case are Greek.

At least cooks could still make Greek yogurt. Sometimes, the substitutions would have to be sneakier. For instance, what do you notice about the Artichokes and Fava Beans recipe?

If you're like me, it is the distinct lack of fava beans. I'm guessing canned lima beans was the closest item in most American grocery stores, so it would have to work here. No need to change the name of the recipe and draw attention to the substitution, though!

Some recipes can be made a more traditional way, but the cooks still attempting to meet Greek Orthodox religious expectations while also adapting to expectations that Americans work a minimum of 247 hours a week realized they had to cut corners sometimes. Bean Soup, for instance, lists two methods: the traditional way and the fast way.

The traditional way soaks beans overnight, cooks them until they start to get tender, and gradually adds various vegetables to simmer until the soup is finally done. The fast way throws a can of tomato soup and a can of navy beans together with some sautéed veggies and calls it a day.

There's also a recipe for "Jiffy Loukoumi" (a Greek version of Turkish delight).

I guess the Greek cooks are not entirely immune to the delights of doing unexpected things with Jell-O, but at least this version doesn't have, say, pineapple juice and gherkins or cherries and olives.

There are plenty of interesting dishes that I had no idea about, too, like the Eggplant Preserve.

Sweet eggplant? It's not something I ever would have imagined, and I'm not really sure what to do with it. (Most Google searches lead to eggplant preserved in oil. The ones that are relevant don't really tell what to do with the sweet eggplants once you have them.) I guess just straight-up eat the sweet, tiny eggplants like candy, since there's a recipe for crystallizing them?

I also learned about a memorial tradition of putting out a wheat tray (Koliva).

This recipe is clearly important-- it takes two days and a lot of shaping and decorating. For memorials, it's probably best not to cut corners! 

So, the book offers all kinds of little insights into Greek Orthodox life a few decades ago... It wasn't something I ever wondered about, but part of the reason I love old cookbooks is that they can let me peek in on details of other people's lives without needing a pair of binoculars (or worrying that the police might get called). Plus, it also makes me wonder if the eggplant emoji would just make Greek Orthodox cooks think of candy.