Efithia's Bean Soup

The smooth pebbles of Monodendri beach were hard and smooth under my bare feet. The sun already high in the sky, illuminated the white shoreline, slowly heating the burnished stone. A few feet away a small green lizard eyed me cautiously from a large flat rock, ensuring I kept my distance while he bathed in the autumn sun. Looking out to sea the water was calm, with gentle ripples washing the polished stone before retreating back. Out in the bay a small fishing boat bobbed idly in the water, slowly traversing the long shoreline before disappearing out of sight.

A splash in the shallows interrupted my thoughts and from the cool water Efithia emerged from her early afternoon swim. She enquired as to why I wasn't swimming and knowing too well that protestations as to the temperature of the October sea would fall on deaf ears I made hollow promises of 'meta, meta'. She dries off, and treads across the irregular pebbles and up to the bar.

Given the onset of some unexpected but hugely welcome fair weather I had made the decision to head over to catch up Ben at his place on Monodendri beach. Ben had spotted me from the bar, crouching low to peer through the cypress trees before skipping down the steps. Rarely leaving his land he is happiest working on the bar or out fishing in his little boat. We sat on the olive wood benches and drank cold beer in the afternoon sun. It had been a difficult season but we had all made the best of it and it felt good to reflect on this and look forward to a more protected winter.

As the sun dipped low in the afternoon sky, a sea breeze swept up the beach, and with it a chill to remind us that it was indeed October. We decided that we would move to the house and help Efi out with some work and so we left the quiet beach to wind our way up the hillside on our scooters. The traditional stone house was perched high on the hillside above the beach providing some dramatic views. To the north, the foothills of the southern coast of Corfu were visible with almost crystal clear clarity and across the channel the mountains around the city of Ioannina were silhouetted in the autumn haze.

I followed Ben through a stone arch and entered into a secret garden of life. Irregular old flag stones formed a narrow path, flanked on both sides by a huge variety of plants and wildflowers. The sun was trapped by the garden canopy and within it Grapefruit trees, with young unripened fruit displayed incredibly fragrant white flowers in full bloom. As we walked Ben relayed his plans for the future of the property and I could already see a picture of his young family happily growing up amidst all this. As we concluded the garden tour Efi appeared from her kitchen and directed us to a tangle of sunbeds that needed moving. It was easy work and and as we finished we moved inside to sit down and eat.

It seems that every Greek woman has an innate and personal connection to food. They rise early and stand fastidiously over the stove, adjusting and monitoring while at the same time chasing out neighbourhood cats and furnishing anyone who cares to visit with coffee and sweets. In the oven a tray of stuffed tomatoes or moussaka slowly, crisps, browns and caramelises, while on the stove there is invariably a soup developing flavour and character.

Today the kitchen is alive with the aromas of a robust fasolada or bean soup, a simple and hearty soup, made with small white beans, a handful of vegetables and copious amounts of extra virgin olive oil. Considered by many as Greece's national dish, it is a frugal and delicious way to feed an entire family and has existed for a long time as a cornerstone of Mediterranean cuisine. In true Greek style the preparation for dinner starts the night before, with the beans soaked for at least eight hours. The following morning they are rinsed and covered with cold water before being brought to the boil. The resultant milky foam is skimmed off and the water tipped away. The beans are then rinsed again and returned to the pan with plenty of fresh water and brought to the boil for around thirty minutes while the vegetables are prepared. Chopped carrots, celery and onion are added together with fresh bay and green chilli. Next comes olive oil and plenty of it, together with tomato puree and oregano and with that the whole pot is brought to a steady boil for around thirty minutes or until the beans are soft.

The table was hastily laid, Efi handing us warm village bread, before spooning the creamy bean soup into small ceramic bowls. Chunks of crusty bread are torn from the loaf and handed out before a plate of anchovies marinated in peppery olive oil are introduced. A slab of feta is skewered and added to the table as well as three fiery green chilli's, placed down on the old wooden table and with that its ready. A simple family lunch typical of slower autumn days and much appreciated.