My husband, Jeff, and I were relaxing in the cockpit of Outrider, our Westsail 42, in San Carlos, Mexico, when we suddenly found ourselves talking about Greece. We were traveling happily down memory lane, reminiscing about a summer we’d spent years ago, backpacking through the Greek islands. The taste of the meal we’d just eaten at a favorite beachside restaurant in Mexico, La Palapa Griega, had brought memories flooding back. Soon, the talk turned to food. 

Years ago, we’d arrived in Santorini, Greece, sleep-­deprived, frazzled and hungry. Wandering off the beaten path, we’d found a quiet taverna, where we sampled pastitsio for the first time. Often called Greek lasagna, this baked, meaty casserole—layers of spiced ground beef, long tubular pasta, and a rich and creamy white-sauce topping—completely revived us. The taste of that delicious first bite has stayed with us for years.

Back home again in California, as we resumed full-time work and life aboard, I tried to re-create the dish, without success. My efforts were a little bland and dry.  

Fast forward to Mexico, where (now retired) we spend every winter aboard. As full-time liveaboards for 30-odd years, the decision to sail our home south, to live our dream of cruising Mexico and the Sea of Cortez, also meant we were in a hurricane zone with scorching summers—a situation not exactly conducive to year-round living aboard. Neither of us relished the idea of living like moles belowdecks, air conditioning running, unable to venture outside during hot daylight hours. Ultimately, we decided to cruise during the cooler months and leave Outrider in capable hands, either on the hard or in a secure slip in Mexico, each summer while we headed back north.

To avoid paying double rent (a marina slip in Mexico and an apartment in the United States) we offered our services as summertime pet and house sitters to our travel-loving US friends up north. It worked. Now, though we do house-sit occasionally, we have a “liveaboard” camper van; each summer, we head north to land-cruise, camping and exploring new places every year. 

Back aboard Outrider that evening, by the time the reminiscing wound down, we’d worked up a serious pastitsio jones. We made a plan: We’d return to the restaurant in a day or two, to sample their Greek lasagna. 

Unfortunately, Lady Luck had other ideas. Later that evening, we heard what sounded like fire alarms in the distance, followed by an ominous dark plume of smoke wafting out over the ocean. It appeared that something rather big was ablaze, but majestic Tetakawi Mountain blocked our view. 

The next day, we found out the casualty was our beloved La Palapa Griega. We wouldn’t be eating their pastitsio anytime soon. 

So, I retrieved my recipe stash from a drawer, found the well-worn notes from my earlier attempts, and got busy on my Greek pasta bake. Jeff took one bite and tactfully reminded me that nothing magical had occurred over the years; the recipe was still a bit bland and dry. But, unlike before, I now had all the time in the world to tweak the recipe. 

The proper pasta for this dish—thick, hollow ­spaghetti—is hard to find outside Greece, so I went for penne. It’s hollow and about the same diameter, just shorter. I experimented with sauce-to-meat ratios and different spices. After one more trial that didn’t quite work, the third time, like that first bite years ago in Santorini, hit the sweet spot. Flavorful, aromatic and moist, it truly was a taste of times past.

Editor’s Note: Mott reports that as of September 2022, La Palapa Griega is up and running.

Meaty Greek Lasagna, serves 6 to 8

• 10-12 oz. raw penne pasta (about 3-3 1/2 cups)
• 4 Tbsp. olive oil
• 1 cup Parmesan, grated 
• 13/4 lb. ground beef
• 1 small to medium onion, chopped
• 1 24-oz. jar tomato sauce
• 1/2 tsp. salt
• 1/4 tsp. pepper
• 1/2 tsp. cinnamon
• 1/2 tsp. ground cloves

White Sauce

• 1/4 cup butter
• 1/4 cup flour
• 2 cups milk, room temperature
• 1/2 cup additional Parmesan, grated finely
• 2 egg yolks, room temperature 
• Salt and pepper, to taste

Cook penne al dente according to package instructions. Drain and toss with 2 tablespoons olive oil and a little Parmesan; set aside. 

In a large pan, briefly sauté beef in remaining 2 tablespoons oil. Add onions, and cook till soft and meat is browned. Do not drain fat. Stir in tomato sauce, salt, pepper, cinnamon and ground cloves. Bring to a boil, reduce heat, and simmer 20 minutes. 

Grease a 9-by-13 ovenproof baking pan. Spread half of the pasta evenly on the bottom of the pan. Spread the meat sauce over the pasta in an even layer. Sprinkle with Parmesan. Spread remaining pasta on top.

Make the white sauce: In a saucepan over low heat, melt butter and slowly shake in flour a bit at a time, stirring constantly with a wooden spoon or wire whisk. Very gradually add room-temperature milk a little at a time, stirring constantly to prevent lumps. When all milk is added, continue to heat and stir until sauce begins to thicken. (This can take 10 to 20 minutes.) Add 1/4 cup Parmesan, and continue stirring. When sauce is thickened and creamy, it’s ready. Remove from heat, and let cool slightly. 

Lightly beat room-temperature egg yolks in a small bowl. Take a small amount of sauce and add it to the eggs, whisking rapidly. Pour egg mix into sauce in pan, and stir vigorously to blend. Add salt and pepper to taste.

Pour sauce evenly over pasta layers. Bake at 350 degrees Fahrenheit for 30 minutes. Briefly remove from oven, top with remaining 1/4 cup Parmesan, tent loosely with foil, and bake an additional 10 to 15 minutes, or until top is golden brown and meat sauce is bubbling at the edges. Let sit 10 to 20 minutes before cutting into square pieces to serve. 

Prep time: 2 hours

Difficulty: Medium

Can be made: at anchor

Cook’s Notes

To cut down on the prep time, you can use a good packaged mix for the white sauce. Leftover lasagna keeps well in the fridge for two days. Or freeze in individual portions, and reheat to eat. If anything, it gets even better.

What’s Cooking?

Do you have a favorite boat recipe? Send it to us for possible use in Sailor & Galley. Tell us why it’s a favorite, and add a short description of your boat and where you cruise. Send it, along with a high-quality digital photo of yourself aboard your boat, to sailorandgalley@cruisingworld.com

The post Sailor & Galley: A Taste of Times Past appeared first on Cruising World.

EDITED BY LYNDA MORRIS CHILDRESS

We’d just hit the jackpot. We were docked in Tobin Harbor on Lake Superior’s Isle Royale aboard Sasha, our Island Packet 40, when the bounty appeared. It came along with a park ranger, who’d just happened by to check on things. As we chatted amiably, he blurted, “Would you like some fresh fish?” He’d caught far more than he could eat that day. “Call me Rick,” he said with a grin.

My husband, Radd, is a sailor, not a fisherman; he was thrilled to have any fish out of the lake. Of course, we gratefully accepted—and counted our blessings for having discovered this wonderful place. 

Our journey had been a long one. Florida is our home port, and we’d spent our cruising lives on various boats exploring the Bahamas and the US East Coast as far north as Washington, D.C. Then, inspired by an upcoming family wedding in Minnesota, we decided to cruise north, with an extended Great Loop adventure.

We started that March, heading up the Intracoastal Waterway and seeing New York City from a mooring ball on the Hudson River. We unstepped the mast in Catskill, New York, and then journeyed through the Erie Canal, where locals told us that we had the biggest sailboat they had seen all season. We branched off at the Oswego Canal, then crossed Lake Ontario and entered the Trent-Severn Waterway in Canada. 

Once we got to Midland, Ontario, we were a sailboat again, cruising on to Georgian Bay and the North Channel of Lake Huron. While most Loopers turn south at this point, we kept going straight into Lake Superior via the Soo Locks, near Sault Ste. Marie, Michigan. Since we still had time before the wedding, we headed to Isle Royale. 

Forty-five miles long and 9 miles wide, Isle Royale is more popular with hikers than boaters, so it’s never crowded on the water. It’s a US national park, albeit one of the least-visited ­because of its short season and remote location. It can be cold even in July, and there’s fog. This is remote cruising at its best. 

The scenery is unrivaled. Fjords offer protection and shelter, and there are numerous no-service docks. Wildlife includes moose and wolves, as well as plenty of fish.

The fish we received that day were lake trout, four of them. This fish could not have been any fresher. Of course, we invited Ranger Rick to join us for dinner, along with Ted, our dock neighbor. 

I’d need a meal fit for company. I decided on a quick tomato-­onion salsa to accompany the fish, assembled it, and then set it aside to let the flavors blend. As I prepared to saute the fish, I had a moment of panic: I was out of cooking oil. I mean, totally out—no canola oil, no olive oil, not even butter. I was up fish creek without a paddle.

Then, I thought of mayonnaise. It was oil-based, and I was out of options. I tossed a couple of tablespoons of it in the hot pan and—voilà!—it melted. It resembled oil. 

I threw on the fish. While they sizzled, I crossed my fingers and hoped for the best.

It was a memorable dinner, lively with good conversation and good company. Rick’s story was fascinating: We learned about his work with water management on the island (there is a lodge, a restaurant and regular ferry service) and his seasonal life in an island cabin. He spends every summer on the island; his wife joins him on weekends via ferry. Fish, he told us, is a staple of his diet, and he was most pleased with having it prepared in a different way. 

The “mayo fish” earned two thumbs up from all, as well as a toast to creative cooking. The fish was white, firm, mild and divine. The salsa was a classic hit too. 

Good as it was, the fish wasn’t the only thing that got caught that day. Lake Superior had worked its magic. We were ­captured—hook, line and sinker. It’s our new base for the near future. —Lorelei Johnson

Trout with Tomato-Onion Salsa (serves 4)

For the trout:

• 4 lake trout fillets, 6 oz. each (or ­substitute saltwater trout, grouper, salmon or tilefish)
• 3 Tbsp. mayonnaise
• Salt and pepper, to taste

For the salsa:

• 3 large cloves garlic 
• 3 medium tomatoes, chopped
• 1 medium sweet onion, finely chopped
• 1/2 cup cilantro, finely chopped
• Juice of 1 lime
• Kosher or sea salt, to taste

Preheat oven to 375 degrees Fahrenheit. 

Peel and mince the garlic. Leave it on your cutting board. Sprinkle with salt, and press the mixture with the flat side of a large knife; gather it back together, and repeat several times to form a paste. Combine remaining salsa ingredients in a medium bowl, blend in the garlic paste, and set aside. Do not ­refrigerate. 

Heat a large, heavy, oven-proof pan (­preferably cast-iron) over medium-high heat. Add mayonnaise, and spread it around with a wooden spoon. Saute fish fillets for 2 to 3 minutes without moving or lifting the fish. 

Gently lift one fillet’s corner to check for ­doneness. If it’s browned, then flip the fillets and place the pan in the oven. After 2 to 3 minutes in the oven, the other side will brown and the inside will cook.

To serve, place a fillet in the center of each plate and top with a generous amount of salsa. Serve any remaining salsa in a bowl on the table. Accompany with rice and fresh bread for dipping.

The post A Superior Fish appeared first on Cruising World.

During the many winters of living aboard our Tayana 58, Scaramouche, along the US East Coast, the ­weather often kept my husband and me hunkered down belowdecks. On cold days, a hearty stew was just the ticket for a warming, stick-to-your ribs dinner. This one-pot meal is also a great make-ahead dish for ­offshore passages when chilly nights are forecast. The recipe, which will please the meat-eaters in your crew, is real chili con carne—chili with meat, beans optional. This version is the captain’s ­preference: no beans! This is best made in a pressure cooker, but if you have time and a good propane supply, it can be slow-cooked in the oven at very low heat. Ultimately, the fuel use is worth it. This makes two or three hearty meals for two. It keeps for several days refrigerated, and it also can be frozen for future enjoyment.

MEAT-EATERS’ NO-BEAN CHILI

• 1 1/2 lb. stew beef
• 1 1/2 lb. stew pork
• 2 tsp. sesame (or olive) oil
• 1 1/2 tsp. salt
• 2 large peppers, red and yellow, cut in 1/2-inch dice
• 1 large onion, cut in 1/2- inch dice 
• 1 12-ounce bottle beer
• 1 16-ounce jar salsa
• About 30 corn tortilla chips, broken into small pieces
• 2 chipotle peppers (canned in adobo sauce), chopped, or to taste*
• 1 Tbsp. adobo sauce, or to taste*
• 1 Tbsp. tomato paste
• 1 Tbsp. chili powder
• 1 tsp. ground cumin *can be omitted if you don’t like spicy chili
• Toppings: Grated cheddar cheese, chopped fresh cilantro, sliced green onion, sour cream, and diced avocado or guacamole.

Serves 4 to 6

Cook’s Note: If you have a slow cooker, ­follow directions for a stew recipe.

Cut meat into ¹/2 -inch pieces. In a large bowl, toss meat with oil, and sprinkle with salt. Brown meat in batches in pressure cooker or a large Dutch-oven pot, and set aside. Add the peppers and onions to the pot, and saute lightly; don’t brown. Add the beer, and deglaze the pot. Return meat to pot, and add salsa, tortilla chips, chipotle peppers, adobo sauce, tomato paste, chili powder and ground cumin. Stir to combine. Bring stew to a boil, then reduce heat to a simmer. If using a pressure cooker, lock pressure-cooker lid in place, and bring pot to high pressure. Reduce heat to low, and cook for 25 to 30 minutes. If you’re slow-cooking the chili in the oven, preheat to 300 to 325 degrees F and transfer pot to oven. Slow-cook, covered, for 3 to 4 hours, or until meat is fork tender. Check during cook time, and add water to moisten if needed. The tortilla chips melt to form a very thick sauce. Serve hot, in bowls, either plain or over rice, with your favorite toppings or sides. 

Preparation: At anchor 
Time: 1 to 4 hours, depending on cooking method 
Difficulty: easy

The post A Perfect Cold-Weather Meal appeared first on Cruising World.

There’s nothing quite like baking aboard to lend a homeyness to a cruising boat. And when you find yourself in cool climes—as we did heading up the inside passage from the Salish Sea to southeast Alaska aboard Del Viento, our Fuji 40—firing up the oven and filling the cabin with warm smells is a pleasure every time. It was in those cruising grounds that we began experimenting with bread puddings. Whether sweet or savory, variations of bread pudding are found in cuisines worldwide. You can use just about any kind of bread, but French bread or challah is best. Following the traditions of the Southern US, we lean toward the sweet version; we like French bread, and being chocoholics, this recipe is a favorite. The cinnamon adds a complexity that reminds us of Mexican chocolate. Because bread puddings can be served warm or cool, we didn’t stop enjoying them once we moved on to the tropics. In fact, being surrounded by cheap fresh baguettes upon landing in French Polynesia meant we tended to overbuy for our family of four. Day-old bread is ideal for bread pudding, and this recipe was always a popular way to consume the excess (slightly stale) loaves.

Chocolate Bread Pudding

• 1 large, slightly stale French baguette*
• 2 cups whole milk
• ³⁄₄ cup cream (heavy or light)
• 4 eggs
• 8 oz. sweet dark chocolate, coarsely grated or chopped finely 
• 2 tsp. vanilla extract
• 3 Tbsp. granulated sugar
• 2 tsp. unsweetened cocoa powder
• 1 tsp. cinnamon
• 2-3 Tbsp. butter (for ­greasing baking dish)
• Powdered sugar (for dusting)
• Fresh mint (optional)
• Fresh berries (optional)

*About a 16-by-4-inch loaf; you need between 8 and 12 cups of bread cubes. Amount varies depending on consistency of bread.

Serves 6 to 8, depending on portion size.

Cut bread into 1-inch cubes. Set aside. Grate or finely chop chocolate; set aside. In a bowl, whisk together the milk, cream and eggs. Add and whisk in the grated chocolate, vanilla, sugar, unsweetened cocoa powder and cinnamon. Gradually stir in the bread cubes, making sure all pieces are well-coated. You want the mixture to stay a bit soupy; keep adding and stirring to coat pieces until all are covered and there’s still some liquid left. (Stop adding bread if you see that the mixture will get too dry—save the extra and make croutons!) Let sit for at least 30 minutes for the bread to absorb some of the liquid. Grease a medium-size baking dish and spread bread mixture into it. Bake at 350 degrees until the center is set and the edges are bubbly. Check after 30 minutes; if center isn’t set, bake another 5 to 10 minutes, but don’t dry it out! Best served warm, but let cool slightly before cutting pieces. Sift a bit of powdered sugar on top, and garnish with fresh mint and berries, if available. Or serve with whipped cream or vanilla ice cream, if available.

Preparation: At anchor 

Time: 2 hours including cooking time 

Difficulty: Easy

Cook’s Note

This recipe is not compatible with a nutty or seedy wheat bread or sourdough bread, but will work with any white-flour bread if you don’t have French bread or challah.

The post A Chocolate Lover’s Delight appeared first on Cruising World.

Cruising with my family on our Catalina 400, Circe, has taught me the true value of a fresh vegetable. After weeks anchored out in remote Sea of Cortez bays, when provisions have dwindled to a few packets of dried ramen noodles and similarly beige foods, there’s nothing more appealing than the thought of eating something green. Provisioning days are celebrations—and I always make the same dinner: stir-fried veggies with pasta in peanut sauce. To our produce-deprived crew, it’s more decadent than filet mignon or lobster—a perfect way to honor our fresh vegetables.

The real star here is the sauce. Use whatever veggies you have on hand, or toss them with rice or quinoa. Slice vegetables fairly thinly; either parboil the longer-cooking ones first or add the hard ones to the pan first, delicate ones last. Use medium-to-high heat, and stir constantly to keep them from burning. Once the burner is on, the dish comes together quickly. Bon appétit!

Stir-Fry Veggie Pasta with Peanut Sauce

• 2 Tbsp. canola, peanut or sunflower oil (not olive oil)*
• 1 medium onion, sliced
• 2-3 cloves garlic
• 1 1-inch piece of ginger, peeled
• 2-3 cups broccoli florets
• 2-3 cups carrots, peeled
• 5-6 ounces spaghetti

*Olive oil’s smoke point is too low for stir-fry.

For the sauce:

• 4 Tbsp. peanut butter
• 2-4 Tbsp. soy sauce (to taste)
• 3 Tbsp. honey or mirin (see “Cook’s Notes”)
• 1 Tbsp. sesame oil
• Squeeze of lime (to taste)
• Splash of water, if needed to thin

Garnish (optional):

• 1/4 cup peanuts, crushed
• 1/4 cup green onions or fresh coriander, chopped

Serves two. (Doubles easily.)

Prep veggies and set aside in separate piles: Slice onion. Slice or julienne carrots. Cut florets from broccoli head; halve larger florets. Coarsely mince garlic and ginger. (For faster and more-even cooking and to preserve color, parboil carrots and broccoli in adequate water for 2-3 minutes first. Drain and set aside.)

Combine sauce ingredients in a small bowl; taste and adjust all ingredients to your liking. (The sauce will thicken a bit when poured into the hot pan, and the pasta will absorb some liquid.)

Cook pasta, drain, and set aside.

Heat a very large saute pan or wok over medium-high heat. Add vegetable oil, and heat until shimmering. Add onions, and stir-fry for 1 minute or less. Add garlic and ginger, and stir-fry briefly, until fragrant. Quickly add parboiled broccoli, and stir-fry 1-2 minutes. Add carrots, and cook another 1-2 minutes. Add cooked pasta to pan, and toss to mix. Pour in sauce, stirring/tossing to evenly coat veggies and noodles. Turn off heat; remove pan. If sauce looks too thick or grainy, add a splash of water and toss. Serve immediately. Garnish with crushed peanuts, fresh coriander or sliced spring onions, if you have them.

Cook’s Notes

Mirin is a sweet, tangy rice wine. If you can’t get it, use honey and add an extra splash of lime. The peanut sauce keeps for about three days in the fridge, so it can be made ahead of time, or stored if you have sauce left over.

The post Galley Recipe: Stir-Fry Veggie Pasta with Peanut Sauce appeared first on Cruising World.

We spend winters cruising in Mexico aboard our Westsail 42, Outrider. Much of our time is spent in the Sea of Cortez, visiting the Baja Peninsula and offshore islands from La Paz north to Santa Rosalia. We love fishing and usually troll a line astern when underway, or try our luck from the dinghy when anchored. As such, we always have a good supply of fresh or frozen fish on board. One year, when my sister, Gill, joined us from France, we took turns cooking dinner; one of mine was freshly caught triggerfish with mashed potatoes and coleslaw. Leftovers went into the fridge. The next evening, Gill put those leftovers to good use by turning them into fish cakes—a first for us. She served them with a squeeze of ­lemon, a tasty mayonnaise-and-curry-powder dip, and a lovely green salad. Dinner was delicious and a definite hit aboard Outrider. I’ve since made them numerous times, and they always satisfy the palate!

Gill’s Fish Croquettes

• 1 large potato (about 1 heaping cup, peeled and diced)
• 1 Tbsp. butter
• 1 lb. fish fillets (any firm white fish, such as flounder, halibut or cod)
• 2 garlic cloves, minced finely
• Salt and pepper, to taste
• Pinch of fresh or dried dill weed
• 3/4 cup all-purpose flour, in a zipper-lock bag
• 1 egg, beaten in a bowl
• 1 cup bread crumbs, spread on a plate
• 3-4 Tbsp. olive oil
• 1 lemon, sliced

Serves 2 to 3, depending on appetite.

Boil water in a medium saucepan, add diced potatoes and a pinch of salt, cover, bring back to a boil, then simmer for 10-12 minutes or until tender. Drain water; mash potatoes with a fork or masher. Let cool.

In a large frying pan, heat butter and 1 tablespoon of oil on medium heat, add garlic, saute 3 to 4 minutes, then add fish fillets. Cook fish approximately 3 to 4 minutes per side, or until opaque. Remove to a plate; let cool. Once cool, flake fish with a fork, then add to mashed potato. Add salt, pepper and dill weed to fish-cake mix. Using your hands or a wooden spoon (mixture will be gooey), gently mix everything together. Divide fish-cake mixture into 4 or 5 balls. Flatten each ball to an approximately 1-inch-thick cake. One at a time, carefully place each cake in the bag of flour and gently shake to coat. Remove cake from flour and dip in egg, coating well, then dredge in crumbs to coat top, bottom and sides. Place prepared cakes on a plate, lightly cover, and chill for 1 hour to firm up. Heat remaining 2 tablespoons of oil in a large frying pan. Fry cakes on medium heat until golden and crisp, about 4 to 5 minutes per side—do not overcrowd pan. Serve with a squeeze of lemon, a tasty mayonnaise-and-curry-powder dip, and a green salad. Garnish with ­parsley sprigs, if available.

Preparation: At Anchor

Time: 2 hours, including chill times

Difficulty: Medium

Cook’s Notes

To save time, cook fish and potatoes in advance. For curry dip: Mix 4 to 5 tablespoons of mayonnaise with curry powder, to taste. Chill briefly before serving.

The post Galley Recipe: Fabulous Fish Cakes appeared first on Cruising World.

On charters aboard our Atlantic 70 cutter, Stressbuster, in the Greek Islands, I try to keep it simple—especially when it comes to onboard meal prep. After breakfast, we set sail; underway, the captain and guests enjoy the sailing while I duck below to start lunch—usually a cooked meal, per Greek tradition. Since food must be ready by the time we drop anchor between islands around midday for swimming and ­sustenance, prep time needs to be fairly quick and easy to do underway. The fewer pots and pans, the better—ensuring easy cleanup so we can get sailing again after lunch. Thankfully, Greek cuisine seems tailor-made for boats—fresh, local, simple and divine. One of my favorite recipes is avgolemono soup, which gets its name from the creamy broth—an ingenious combination of beaten eggs (avgo) and lemon (lemono). In its simplest form, this traditional soup is made with chicken broth, salt, pepper, rice or orzo pasta, and the last-minute blending of the eggs and lemon juice with the hot broth to make the base. There are many ­variations of this basic recipe. I’ve tried other versions, but—based on my love of Italian meatball soup—I created this one. It’s filling, but light and lemony enough to be perfect even on a hot August day. It never fails to be a crowd-pleaser!

Greek Avgolemono Soup

• 2 Tbsp. olive oil
• 4-5 green onions
• 1 large carrot, grated (about 1 cup)
• 2 small zucchini, grated (about 2 cups)
• 5 cups chicken broth
• 12 frozen, packaged meatballs**
• 1/2 cup orzo pasta
• Salt and pepper, to taste
• Handful of fresh parsley, chopped

For the avgolemono:

• 2 large eggs, brought to room temperature
• 1/4 cup fresh lemon juice

**or substitute ­homemade, frozen

Chop green onions. Use the pale bottom parts for the soup; reserve dark-green tops for a garnish. Cut carrot and zucchini in half, then grate lengthwise with a box grater. Heat oil in a large soup pot over medium heat. Briefly saute veggies. Add chicken broth, ­meatballs and orzo. Stir, cover pot, and increase heat to medium-­high. When liquid comes to a boil, reduce heat, cover, and cook at a healthy ­simmer for 20 to 25 ­minutes.

Make avgolemono: Crack eggs into a large (4-cup), heatproof liquid measuring cup or bowl. Add lemon juice. Whisk and set aside. When soup is done, remove from heat and remove cover. Let cool until broth is no longer scalding (at least 5 minutes; test temp with a clean finger). Use a soup ladle to gradually add broth to egg-lemon mix, whisking as you add. When liquid in the pot is almost diminished, slowly pour avgolemono back into the pot, a bit at a time, stirring after each addition. Stir to blend, cover, and let sit for 1 to 2 minutes, or until thickened slightly. Stir in chopped parsley. Garnish individual servings with reserved green onion tops, and serve immediately.

Preparation: At anchor & underway

Time: 35-40 minutes

Difficulty: Easy

Cook’s Notes

For perfect, smooth avgolemono, DO NOT add broth that’s too hot to the egg/lemon mixture—it will “cook” the eggs and clump. Use room-temperature eggs to decrease likelihood of clumping. If you reheat leftovers, use low heat and do not simmer!

The post Galley Recipe: Greek Avgolemono Soup appeared first on Cruising World.

Aboard Four Sum, our 28-foot Winslow sloop, I learned to appreciate ­so-called peasant dishes, such as coq au vin, French onion soup, bouillabaisse and so on. They’re simple and economical—a good way to use up whatever’s on hand. This Tuscan bean soup is no exception. Known as ribollita (which means “reboiled”), it’s an Italian comfort-food classic. § One of the great things about this hearty, nutritious meal is that you can make it almost ­entirely from canned, salted or dried ingredients. You can make it vegetarian, or with bacon or pancetta. You can use up stale bread and make croutons or toasted slices for topping. It can also be served cold: In Craig Claiborne’s New York Times Food Encyclopedia (1994 edition), he mentions enjoying chilled ribollita in a Milan eatery on a scorching day, and proclaimed it “delicious.” §Aboard a boat, I use canned beans for this. Dried beans need soaking time and use precious water. Canned beans keep longer, and the texture is always right—not always the case with dried beans. If you prefer dried beans, just prep/soak beforehand according to package instructions. You can make this soup ahead of time, minus the bread/cheese topping, and reheat—it can be eaten immediately, but the flavors will improve (as its name implies) when it is twice boiled. Buon appetito!

Tuscan Bean Soup (Ribollita)

• 1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil, divided
• 4 ounces pancetta (optional)
• 2 cloves garlic, minced
• 1 large yellow onion, chopped
• 2 carrots, sliced into rounds
• 2 ribs celery, coarsely chopped
• 2 15-ounce cans cannellini beans, drained and rinsed
• 1 28-ounce can Italian plum tomatoes
• Water, as needed
• 2 heads kale or other leafy green (see “Cook’s Notes”)
• 1/2 pound Swiss chard (optional)
• 1 or 2 sprigs fresh rosemary or thyme, OR 1 tsp. dried
• Salt and pepper, to taste
• Rustic bread, sliced
• Parmesan cheese, grated

Serves 6 to 8. To serve 4, halve the ingredient amounts.

Remove tough stems from kale or other greens and slice thinly. Set aside. Heat 1/4 cup of the olive oil in a heavy pot or Dutch oven. (Add pancetta, if using, and cook till a bit of fat is rendered.) Add garlic, onion, carrots and celery, and saute until softened, being careful not to let the garlic brown. Mash 1 cup of the beans with the back of a spoon or potato masher. Add to the pot tomatoes, herbs, all beans and water (to reach desired broth consistency).

Add sliced greens, and ­simmer until wilted and soft, about 10 minutes. Add Swiss chard, if using, and simmer for another 5-10 minutes, until all greens are wilted and carrots are tender. Season to taste.

Top soup bowls with rounds of hearty bread, drizzle with remaining olive oil, and sprinkle with freshly grated Parmesan. (If you have a microwave on board, heat bowls briefly to melt cheese before eating.)

Preparation: At anchor

Time: 1 hour

Difficulty: Easy

Cook’s Notes

You can use any fresh, leafy greens in the recipe above, such as spinach, endive, cabbage, collards, escarole, mustard greens and bok choy, to name a few. Try what’s available locally, wherever you’re cruising.

The post Galley Recipe: Tuscan Bean Soup appeared first on Cruising World.

What’s a sunset without a sundowner? Quitting time after a messy day in the engine room without an after-work beer? No matter how much storage a boat has, at some point, the liquid provisioning trickles out. Homebrewing—or rather boat-brewing—is the beverage solution for cruisers who enjoy hanging out in remote areas without beach bars or supermarkets.

When we set out toward the Pacific seven years ago, we knew that booze would be costly in many areas (if available at all). Therefore, we filled up our boat with boxed wine, cases of beer and some rum in Panama. When we met a singlehander from New Zealand in one of our first anchorages in French Polynesia who invited us to try his homemade beer, our reaction was more amused than interested: What a weirdo, we thought nonchalantly.

A year later, we were still in French Polynesia and had run out of Panamanian booze. Motivated by high prices for alcohol, we tried our luck with Polynesian recipes for komo—sugar water fermented with baker’s yeast that yields strong results. The locals brew komo in 200-liter (52-gallon) barrels, so we did the math, and filled regular 1-liter bottles with a similar ratio. After cleaning up the sticky mess from an exploded container, we had a go at DIY airlocks, which prevented further accidents but did nothing to conceal the socklike smell and taste of the baker’s yeast.

We searched online and ordered from homebrew shops. Starting from scratch and boiling hops seemed overly ­ambitious, so we went for ready-made beer kits. A 4-pound can yields 23 liters (48 US pints) and contains all that’s needed. Just pour the thick syrup into a large container, add water, sugar and the included packet of yeast, and wait for a week. Then comes the tricky part, because you need a whole load of empty, sterilized pressure bottles (old soda bottles work) for the golden liquid. A pinch of sugar in each bottle sets off a second fermentation to make the beer fizzy. There is a whole range of different beer types available as beer kits, but inventive boat-brewers take it a step further and add aroma hops, young pine tips, or even coffee beans for experimental flavors. After another two weeks of patiently waiting, the beer’s ready to be tasted!

As the sunset is painting the sky over the lagoon in shades of pink and orange, we clink our glasses. Yes, homebrewing equipment takes up some space and the procedure is rather time-consuming, but the luxury of sipping self-made ­Pitufa-brew all on our own in paradise is well worth the ­effort. Cheers!

How To Get Started

To start brewing beer aboard, you’ll need:

• 1 beer kit (e.g., Muntons Export Pilsner)
• 1 big container (23 liters/ 6 US gallons)
• 23 one-liter bottles or 46 half-liter bottles (regular plastic soda bottles can take the pressure)
• 1 air lock (to put on the big container)
• Disinfectant to prepare the gear (baby-bottle disinfectant from the pharmacy or special disinfectant from the homebrew shop)
• Enough patience to make it through 3 weeks of ­waiting time

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Many simple meals that are easy to prepare in the ship’s galley come from the generation before mine and were handed down from beloved family and friends. I’ve updated and reengineered many of these recipes from their original form. In recent years aboard Scaramouche, our Tayana 58, I made my husband’s aunt’s recipe for Chicken Noel, a recipe that many people seem to have acquired the same way. The earlier-era recipe called for boneless, skinless chicken breasts, canned mushrooms, and a can of cream of mushroom soup as the base for the sauce, and specified baking in a roasting pan. To kick it up a notch, I use skin-on, bone-in chicken breast, which delivers a tastier and moister version than its boneless, skinless cousins, not to mention being easier on the food kitty. Fresh mushrooms, along with a couple of added ingredients, yield an easy homemade sauce. I prepare the dish in a 10-inch cast-iron pan and finish cooking in the oven. This recipe is not only delicious, but it’s also versatile: If you don’t have or don’t like portobellos, substitute button mushrooms. For a richer flavor, you can use creme fraiche instead of sour cream. No chicken? No ­problem—it also works well with pork chops.

New-Age Chicken Noel

• 1 whole bone-in/skin-on chicken breast, split in half or quartered
• Salt and pepper, to taste
• 2 Tbsp. olive oil
• 1-2 Tbsp. unsalted butter
• 2 cups portobello or button mushrooms, sliced*
• 1/4 cup dry sherry or Marsala wine
• 1/2 cup chicken stock
• 1/3 cup sour cream (or more as desired for thickness) 
• Paprika, to taste

*Portobellos add more flavor.

Preparation: at anchor

Time: 1 hour

Difficulty: easy

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Season chicken breast with salt and pepper. Use a cast-iron or other stovetop-to-oven pan if you have one. (If not, use a saute pan and transfer to greased baking dish before finishing in oven.) Heat the olive oil in the pan, and brown the chicken on both sides. Transfer chicken to a plate; reserve juices. Add butter to the pan, and saute mushrooms until lightly browned and firm, not soft. Deglaze the pan with sherry or Marsala, and reduce to half its volume. Add chicken stock and reserved juices, reduce the heat, and simmer until the sauce reduces by half. Remove from heat, stir in sour cream to thicken the sauce, return the chicken to the pan (or place chicken in a baking dish), and spoon mushroom sauce over it. Sprinkle with paprika, and finish in the oven until a meat thermometer reads 165 degrees F (about 20 to 30 minutes depending on the size of the chicken breasts). Serve hot with cooked egg noodles or rice. Serves two, with leftovers.

Cook’s Notes

Proper mushroom prep is key to good flavor. To clean mushrooms, slice off stems and discard. For ­portobellos, scrape out gills (the dark webbing inside the cap) with a spoon. Wipe off any dirt with a damp paper towel. Avoid rinsing, or mushrooms will be spongy when cooked. Cook over medium-high heat, stirring often. Do not crowd the pan; mushrooms release liquid, which needs space to evaporate fully to prevent soggy texture.

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