Greek stifado is a special dish: It requires time to prepare but the result is succulent, rewarding and stomach-warming, like stews ought to be. Tender, juicy chunks of meat are patiently cooked at low heat amid a sea of small pearl onions in a rich red wine sauce flavored with warming spices and herbs, like allspice, cinnamon, cloves, bay leaves and rosemary, that I tend to associate more with the winter season. By the end, the onions go glossy and caramelized in this delicious sauce and the pieces of meat are fork tender.
The word stifado derives from the ancient Greek word tyfos (τύφος), which means steam. This is the root for the Latin word estufare, from which the Italian stufato (or Venetian stufado), the Italian word for stew, was born.
The dish as we know it today in Greece is traced back to the 13th century, when the Venetians introduced it to the areas they had conquered. One of the most classic versions of stifado is made with rabbit, and it’s absolutely delightful. Other popular takes are made with beef or veal, although it is also commonly made with octopus.
The best meal I ever had in Greece wasn’t mine. It was my friend Nic’s; I tried a mouthful and abandoned my plate for his kouneli stifado – rabbit stew, an unfussy Greek classic that was probably a gift from the Venetians. We tend to think of dill, oregano and thyme as Greek flavours, but this dish, and others, use exotic spices – cinnamon, allspice, nutmeg, cloves.
I sailed to Greece; I’m still here as autumn turns to winter, when an aromatic stifado takes centre stage. Its gently warming spices and balance of sweet and sour make it a favourite Sunday family meal, a comfort food to beat all others. These flavours will forever evoke Greece for me – particularly Greece in winter.
That said, this memorable version also made a perfect summer dinner, with oregano fries in a cracking little taverna in the back streets of Zakynthos town, on the island of the same name. Stifado doesn’t often feature in tourist restaurants – it takes time to cook well – but O Zohios caters for regulars, and the few lucky tourists who stumble upon it. Kostas the chef, a generous bear of a man, joined us after service and we were there late into the night while I tried to prise the recipe out of him. All of his food was great, but that stifado completely arrested my senses. I sent friends a blurred picture of it – half eaten – proclaiming I’d found the best food in Greece.
As with many Greek classics, each region and family has its own stifado (it may be made with octopus in fishing towns, and there are vegetarian mushroom stifados) and everyone argues about techniques and non-negotiable ingredients. Onions, but which kind? Wine, but how sweet? Tomatoes for sure – yet stifado predates tomatoes. It’s pointless trying to get a definitive version but by general agreement rabbit, increasingly rare on menus, is authentic. Kostas’s rabbit, cooked long and slow, fell off the bone without encouragement. The rich sauce – not too much – was smooth with olive oil, warm with spices and had a moreish tang that came from the meat being marinated in vinegar overnight to tenderise it. Tomatoes, spice, garlic, onion, wine, lots of time. Perfection.
It’s the dish I’ll long for when I set sail for foreign ports.
Receta de Stifado (estofado griego de carne y cebollas)
Receta de Stifado (estofado griego de carne y cebollas)
Publicado por Escuela de Cocina y Pasteleria Terra de Escudella
el 21 de marzo de 2024
Requiere 30 min,
para cuatro personas.
Ingredientes
· 900 g aguja de cerdo
· 1 cda. aceite de oliva
· 2 cebollas
· 4 cda. vinagre de vino tinto
· 180 ml agua o vino tinto
· 230 gr tomates
· 2 cda. puré de tomate
· 3 hojas de laurel
· sal o pimienta…
