Summer breezes and delightful cuisine on a Mediterranean island would be wonderful … but the same can be had in the summer right here in Maine.

Pour yourself a short glass of ouzo, add feta cheese drizzled with olive oil and pita pocket wedges, then make a batch of Dolmathes with leaves you’ve gathered close to home. Homemade Tzatziki will complete the scene (pre-made store varieties do not compare). Sit back and que the bouzouki music. Ahhh. You could be transported, at least mentally, to Greece!

Dolmathes, dolma, yaprakia or even dolmethakia – a grape vine leaf filled with meat and/or rice, savory herbs is delicious no matter what you call it. Stuffed grapevine leaves originated in Turkey during the Ottoman reign, then came to America via Greece. Many Arabic and Middle-Eastern countries have adapted the recipe to their tastes, but in our house a truly great yapraki (the singular form of the noun) was a tightly wrapped mixture of rice, ground meat, onion, mint from the garden and lemon – LOTS of lemon. And this is still an excellent time of year to gather all the grape vine leaves that you will need for a winter of yummy appetizers and or dinner entrees.

At this point in the summer, it’s easier to spot potential picking sites and make a note of their locations for next year. My husband jokes that I can identify grape vines at “60 mph while driving down the highway.” He is right! I can! But I never pick from congested roadways (too many pollutants in the ground), and a day spent poking around the back roads and hidden parks is much more pleasant. Another advantage to mid-August grapevine hunting: It’s easier to spot, and avoid, mature poison ivy than when the plants are smaller.

My earliest memories of both my maternal (country-dwelling) grandmother, and my paternal (city-dwelling) grandmother circled around picking the grape leaves for dolmathes. All four of my grandparents came to America as children, through Alatsata and Reisdere in Turkey, although they were Greek nationals. They were fleeing war-torn Greece.

In Massachusetts – where we all lived in the 1960s – the season ‘to pick’ was earlier – usually Memorial Day to Father’s Day. Leaves from wild vines – according to my grandmothers – are more tender than those from cultivated vines. Their reasoning was that fertilizers used in gardens tend to bring lusher fruit. It makes sense, but I’ve not tested her theory. And they never (EVER!) used leaves from a jar! The high salt content was second to the high price. After all, why buy what you can gather from the fields?

And so we would traverse the country roads from Haverhill, to Melrose, to Cambridge, eyes peeled – looking for the abundant leaves each spring, especially easy to spot as they turn over at the onset of a spring storm to catch the rain. The best place to find wild vines is along the edge of a meadow, or the back of a seldom used parking lot. Look for spaces that have not been treated with herbicides or insecticides…but never (EVER) ask a Greek where they collect! The best locations are secrets to be passed from generation to generation.

For us, picking grape vine leaves was part of a day trip to the Sagamore Bridge on Cape Cod or Nahant Coast Guard Beach in Nahant. Both locations are maintained by the US Coast Guard and are open to the public. A dip in the ocean and a beach lunch was always part of the day. I remember wishing that my family would just pack a lunch of PB&J and potato chips – like regular families – instead of crocks filled with stuffed grape leaves, homemade bread and feta cheese!

If you go out in search of grapevine leaves, look for young leaves that are bright, shiny and green and about as large as one hand. Pass over the leaves that are bigger, and those with bug holes or pods stuck to them. Stack the leaves into a paper sack and when you get home (the same day), blanch them in a hot bath until the color turns dull green, usually 2 to 3 minutes. Blanch 10 – 15 leaves at a time, returning the salted water to a rolling boil after each batch.

Drain the leaves and pack them into plastic wrap, or baggies. Ten pouches of 100 leaves packed neatly into the freezer yields enough for one long Maine winter and takes about the same space as a shoe box. The process as I’m writing this sounds long and arduous, but it really was just a small part of a great day spent with grandparents and cousins. My grandmothers would cook their stuffed grape leaves in a stock pot in the oven, set to 350 degrees F, in a Dutch oven – or even a stock pot – for most of the day, until the rice became tender. I use a crock pot…set and go.

This recipe is adapted with great love from my grandmothers – Maria Nionakis, of Haverhill, Massachusetts, and Efrosini Eleftherakis, of Cambridge, Massachusetts. It is said that most people are remembered for two generations after they pass. Recipes like these keep their memory alive for me — and for my children and grandchildren — five generations later.

STUFFED GRAPEVINE LEAVES

I use the Crockpot method when I make stuffed grapevine leaves. You can prepare the filling mixture up to a day in advance.  

Yield: about 100 stuffed grapevine leaves

Before you start, defrost a packet of 100 grapevine leaves. Spray the bottom and sides of the Crockpot with non-stick spray.

In a bowl, mix together:

2 cups raw Uncle Ben’s Long Grain Rice

1 ½ to 2 pounds ground beef, pork or lamb, or a mixture of all 3

1 large Vidalia onion, chopped

1 -2 cloves garlic, minced

1 or 2 eggs (depending on size)

1 or 2 slices of bread, soaked in milk

1 bunch of fresh parsley, chopped

1 cup chopped fresh mint (this, too, can also be gathered in the summer and frozen) or 2 tablespoons dried mint

Zest from 2 or 3 lemons

1 teaspoon salt

A bit of pepper, to taste

1 cup toasted pine nuts

1 teaspoon cumin or fresh or frozen basil, optional

To cook:

4 cups beef or chicken broth

2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice, plus the lemon rinds (optional)

1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil

To assemble:

Place leaf, dull side up, on a cutting board. Scoop about a teaspoon of the filling mixture onto the stem end of the leaf, then roll, folding in the edges as you go. Trim the stem as close as possible to the leaf, as the stems will be tough to chew. Repeat until you’ve used up all the leaves and all the filling.

Place the rolled packets into a crock pot in a circular fashion, starting at the edges of the pot and ending in the center. Roll them tightly and place them snuggly in the pot. They will expand a little in cooking, but will retain their shape if they are tightly packed. For more lemon flavor, slice the juiced lemon rinds very thinly and layer them between rows of grape leaves.

Once the pot is about two-thirds full, pour a box (about 4 cups) of chicken or beef broth over the dolmathes/yaprakia. Add the lemon juice drizzle with the olive oil.

Cook on high for 3 – 4 hours or on low overnight (6 – 8 hours) until the rice is tender. Check the pot from time to time to ensure that there is still broth at the bottom of the pot. If not, add more and continue to cook until the dolmathes are done.

To serve:

Place the dolmathes on a dish, drizzle with more olive oil, squirt with more lemon, and maybe add a side dish of Tzatziki – a Greek/Middle Eastern yogurt dip that makes everything taste better! The dolmathes can be eaten hot or cold.

SIMPLE TZATZIKI  

2 medium-size cucumbers

2 – 3 cloves garlic

1 quart PLAIN Greek yogurt (Not vanilla; for richer dip use 5% fat, but any works)

1 scant teaspoon sea salt

Mint leaves, to garnish

Grate the whole cucumbers in a food processor or on a cheese grater – leaving the skins on. Put the grated cucumbers into a cheese cloth sack and squeeze out and discard their juice. Grate the garlic. Mix the pressed cucumbers and the garlic in a bowl with the yogurt. Add salt. Serve chilled, garnished with a mint leave or two.

MEET THE COOK, Joann Sueltenfuss

I love to cook – for people who love to eat! There is great satisfaction in providing more than just sustenance, but a joyful experience.

Since one grandmother lived with us when I was a child, and the other was just a short distance away, it was not unusual for me to help with the preparation for an extended family meal. One never knew exactly how many people would be at the table on any given night. The amounts on an ingredient list were more ‘suggestions’ than requirements, that is IF the recipe was ever actually written down.

As a child I was assigned the task of ‘helper’ in the kitchen and was always ready to ‘get,’ ‘find’ or ‘run to the store’ for an additional ingredient. My reward was that I was also often ask to be the Kitchen Taste Tester, and I got to enjoy the undivided attention of my grandmothers’ love.

As a young bride I asked my grandmother how to make her delicious Easter bread. She told me:

“Add eggs.”

“How many?” I asked.

“About a dozen – depending on their size,” she replied. She’d add eggs until it looked right to her, using the same bowl every time and measuring amounts against the rings on the exterior of the bowl.

“And how much sugar?” I wanted to know.

“Enough to make it sweet…but not too sweet!” she replied.

The next direction was even more vague: “Knead it until it comes alive,” (περίμενε μέχρι να ζωντανέψει) she said, figuring that, of course, I would know what ‘alive’ dough looked and felt like.

In all, it was a wonderful way to learn about science (how one ingredient reacts to another), math (the measurements) and most of all, the love of family and friends. We are pleased that our son Eric carries on this tradition in planting grape vines at his home in Washington state while our son Pete continued the tradition and love of cooking for others as chef/owner of his Greek-inspired restaurant Other Side Diner, on outer Washington Avenue in Portland.

After happy lives and successful careers in Massachusetts, my husband and I retired to Old Orchard Beach seven years ago, and we continue to enjoy life together in this beautiful area that we now call home.

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