During the peak of summer in August, when the hot Sahara-born Sirocco winds blanketed the countryside, Aloni-sites were where families gathering for the cool breezes coming off the sea from Kalathas. Men would sip on cafes, while women would sometimes bring a bowl of fresh-picked almonds to crack and catch up on the seemingly endless tasks of the day.
During the extended late summers in Crete, often lasting into November, skordalia was a favorite afternoon condiment spread over crusty bread which was baked in the wood fired oven in the courtyard, or cistern-collected water-dipped crunchy barley rusk paximadia dipped in super green olive oil from the latest harvest. Skordalia was often served with a horiatiki salata of fresh-picked sweet cucumbers, tomatoes, pungent red onions, tiny salt-cured Cretan olives and local sheep’s milk cheese, when it was available.
Anthe adapted the recipe for her life in America, using a bit of cider vinegar to offset the different flavors of the local ingredients. Unlike Crete, the almonds in Canton, Ohio were not fresh from the trees, bread was not kissed by the lightly salted air and lemons were not from the trees in the fertile valley gardens (Kypo). Nevertheless, Anthe’s interpretation was a beautiful, delicious and an irresistible condiment designed for her American life. She would make the recipe as a special treat for my father, which he would not stop eating until the mason jar was wiped clean with bread.
My article from KPHTH magazine with the Skordalia recipe and family history from November 2018 is below