Fava

I really didn't mean this new blog to turn into a food blog, but that seems to be the way it's going so far!

Fava is another simple but excellent dish, as anyone who's been to Greece will know. Despite the obvious reference in the name to broad beans, it's a plain but delicious puree or 'porridge' of small, yellow split peas, associated with the island of Santorini.

Fava with caper leaves...

Until Covid locked us all down at home, I was in the habit of spending a couple of days, at the end of each year's summer holidays, on Santorini, and while there stocking up on the local fava 'beans', which bear a 'protected designation of origin' symbol. The last time I was there, the jeweller I buy my holiday presents from every year noticed I was carrying some fava and jars of capers, dashed off, and eventually came back with a giant bag of the former and a giant jar of the latter, so I was all set to weather the pandemic.

Fava more or less makes itself, and if you can't get Santorini fava, or find it too expensive, you can use other kinds of yellow split peas or lentils or even chana dal: it may not be authentic but it will still be delicious.

I use an American measuring cup for this - I think that's around 250 g of the dry fava - or you could use a good-sized teacup. You just put the fava in a pan and add two-and-a-half times the volume in cold water. Bring it to the boil and let it simmer gently until the 'beans' start to break up by themselves. I imagine fastidious cooks skim off the foam; I don't bother. Santorini fava, which is small, will be done in about 30 minutes; with other kinds of pulse it may take up to 45.

... and with smoked anchovies

If your fava seems to be drying out before breaking up, add more water, and as the 'beans' turn mushy, keep stirring. I eventually use a potato masher to finish the puree, but if you want something smoother (more like commercial hummus), you can use a food processor. The texture should be like porridge and a little bit runnier than 'seems right', as fava sets somewhat as it cools. At this stage, stir in some salt.

I also, though I shouldn't, add a pinch of cumin: as far as my Greek friends are concerned, this means it isn't fava at all.

All this can be done in advance, in which case I pour a film of olive oil (two or three tablespoons) over the puree to avoid a skin forming. When I want to finish and garnish the fava, I just stir the oil in. If you don't make it in advance, just stir in three spoons of olive oil anyway.

Fava is usually garnished with something strong flavoured, for contrast. At the Aktaion taverna in Firostefani, where I eat every night whenever I'm on the island, I had it with smoked anchovies, and since then that's what I use: a sprinkling of oregano, some chopped red onion, capers or caper leaves (in brine or salt, not vinegar!), smoked anchovy fillets (in Paris, these are usually Spanish), and more oil. It's a meze, so you'll serve it with other small starters - a Greek salad, for example - and plenty of bread.