Nick Bramham’s Fasolakia
Nick Bramham’s Fasolakia
Make the most of green beans with this simple yet indulgent Greek classic. Text and photos by Nick Bramham.
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Welcome to Vittles Recipes! This week’s columnist is Nick Bramham. You can read our archive of cookery writing here.
Nick Bramham’s Fasolakia
Make the most of green beans with this simple yet indulgent Greek classic.
Fasolakia is a dish of braised green beans that belongs to a category of Greek cuisine known as ‘λαδερά’ (‘ladera’), meaning ‘cooked in olive oil’. Vegetables such as artichokes, peas, okra – and, indeed, beans – are gently simmered in olive oil, often with onions and tomatoes, until their juices have been released, reduced, and distilled, and they are irresistibly tender.
Hop across the Aegean to Turkey and you’ll find identical dishes referred to as ‘zeytinyağlı yemekler’ (‘dishes with olive oil’), and ‘fasolakia’ going by ‘fasulye’. While essentially the same, the only significant difference I’ve observed is that where the Greeks might throw in a potato or two, in Turkey a sprinkle of pul biber is welcome. In Greece the addition of chilli would be very unorthodox, but not an unwelcome addition, in my view.
This technique for cooking vegetables is supposedly rooted in the kitchens of Eastern Mediterranean Christians, for whom all dairy products, eggs, meat, and fish were strictly off the table on holy days and during periods of religious abstention, like lent. So, using lashings of olive oil rich in good fats would’ve been a fitting way to keep energy levels up and, perhaps more importantly, it’s delicious, which is why these dishes endure today, not just in Greece and Turkey but throughout much of the Levant.
As part of my classical indoctrination training, I was taught that green beans should only ever be served al dente, all crunch and chlorophyll. Encountering fasolakia for the first time felt thrillingly transgressive. The long, slow cooking teases out a deep, almost-meat-like savouriness from the beans, enhanced by the umami tang of the tomatoes, with the olive oil in turn providing a beautiful silky texture. I now can’t imagine why you would cook green beans any other way.
The challenging part of this ostensibly rather simple recipe is mastering the application of heat, time, and evaporation in such a way that the beans are at the perfect level of doneness at the exact moment that the liquor has reached the desired consistency. This can be quite tricky to achieve, and depends entirely on the variety, quality, and freshness of your chosen beans. But, as with most recipes, with some care and attention you can stay in full control.
Young flat green beans are customary for this dish, but they can be hard to track down in the UK. If you are struggling to source them, you can use French beans or Bobby beans, as I have here. Simon Hopkinson once said that it was ‘lazy’ to only trim the string end of green beans rather than fully topping and tailing them. I would argue the opposite is true: it’s actually far more laborious to organise all the beans in the same direction so you can remove the top and leave the tail intact, but so much more aesthetically pleasing.
Select the brightest, ripest tomatoes you can find: think Argento levels of deep red. Blanching and peeling tomatoes can be a chore, so I prefer to grate them, which significantly shortens the prep and cooking time by breaking down the skin and flesh and releasing plenty of juice that would otherwise take quite a while to coax out in the pan.
The fasolakia should simmer for anywhere from two to four hours, until the beans are tender and the juices have reduced to a rich tangy sauce that just about coats everything. The serving temperature is extremely important. This dish shouldn’t be eaten hot: it needs some time to calm down and get to know itself. It’s best enjoyed a couple of hours after being made, just holding on to a trace of residual heat, as if warmed by the fading afternoon sun.
With some nice bread and quality feta this makes for an exceptional meal. But fasolakia can also be a scene-stealing accompaniment to slow-cooked lamb shoulder, pork souvlaki, roast chicken, or barbecued fish, especially with a good dollop of tzatziki or unpasteurised goat’s yoghurt on the side and carafes of ice cold rosé. Perhaps a thick slice of portokalopita and a bottle of ouzo for afters? Opa!
Fasolakia
