Athens’ image as a concrete gray city with few green spaces and a lot of traffic might be hard to shake. But would you believe only 6.5km away from the bustling city center lies a beautiful, lush forest with ancient paths and Byzantine monuments – and a little canteen where you can enjoy lunch near an ancient spring? In the forest, a 30-minute walk from the Kaisariani cemetery and off the Kaisariani Monastery loop trail is a bustling picnic area and ancient spring, a well-kept secret of Athens. Come here to seek a rare moment in city life: either snacking on a wooden bench by the water, under the trees awakened by a gentle breeze or at one of the tables and chairs under grass umbrellas by a tiny stone building that serves as the forest’s canteen, Kalopoula Refreshments.

As a chef and a mom, I love to get creative with food scraps, the parts that many people would normally throw away – stems, fat, seeds, rinds, skins, bones, etc. To me this is the heart of contemporary gastronomy – cooking with as little waste as possible and managing to create beautiful flavors and textures with humble ingredients. It’s an approach that’s beneficial not just for our own health but also that of the planet. This urge to limit food waste has led me to study the history of Greek and Mediterranean cuisines, which traditionally revolved around what we now call “sustainable cooking.” One great example of a historic culinary tradition that was all about using everything at hand is the spoon sweet, a type of fruit preserve with ancient roots and the official welcoming treat of Greece – it was traditionally served upon arrival in a Greek home.

Is it always sunny in Athens? With nearly 300 days of sunshine in a year, it certainly feels that way. The consistently nice weather makes the city (and its suburbs) an ideal place for outdoor activities and picnics almost year-round. During the hottest months of July and August, however, most Athenians escape from the city center and choose to do an all-day picnic at one of the many nearby beaches around Attica, the region that encompasses Athens. Others head to the hills surrounding the city, which boasts several quiet, shaded spots with stunning views. But if you can’t escape the city center, there are still several ideal places to picnic at – even during the height of summer.

Fanis Theodoropoulos grew up regularly visiting his father’s deli on Evripidou, the so-called “spice street” in the vibrant Central Market area. His father Dimitris, or “Barba-Mitsos,” as they called him, ran the tiny shop until 2002, when Fanis took over. Although they now offer a wide selection of meats and cheeses, sourced from artisanal producers all over the country, the hole-in-the-wall shop mainly sold air-dried cured meats like pastourma and soutzouki, as well as salami from Lefkada island until the 1980s. With these cured meats as a foundation, Fanis has built a small empire of delis – most recently an expansive “workshop” in the Monastiraki neighborhood – that draw from long-held culinary traditions.

Despite Greece’s small size, the country has many different regional cuisines, with Greek island cuisine – particularly that of the Cyclades, which is rooted in simplicity and seasonality – being one of my favorites. The small, dry islands developed a kind of cucina povera, or “peasant cooking,” that was influenced in part by the Venetians, who governed the islands for over 300 years, and based on the few basic ingredients they could grow without much water, or without water at all: tomatoes, eggplants, watermelons, zucchinis, figs and grapes, all of which tend to be smaller in size but full of flavor.

For many of us in Athens (and beyond), the Covid-19 lockdown has been among the most challenging periods in recent history. The situation bred feelings of insecurity, raised lots of questions, many unanswerable, tried our patience and, perhaps most importantly, taught us that absolutely nothing can be taken for granted. On the flip side, some of us had the chance to rest and reflect, to get to know ourselves in silence and consider how we’ve evolved – things we never had time for in our normally fast-paced life. A number of philosophical questions even came to mind: Are we truly happy? Are we really enjoying every moment to the fullest? Are we grateful for what we have?

When people ask me what’s my favorite time of the year here in Athens, I always say it’s spring and particularly April. That is when all the Seville orange trees lining the streets of Athens – both downtown and in the suburbs – blossom and perfume the whole city. I can spend hours walking around and inhaling the wonderful scent. The common orange is believed to be a naturally occurring hybrid between the pomelo and the mandarin. There are many different varieties and other hybrids that have evolved, but they generally fall into one of two categories: sweet (citrus x sinesis), which includes varieties such as the navel orange, the Valencia orange, the blood orange and the Jaffa orange, or bitter (citrus x aurantium), which includes the Seville orange, the trifoliate orange and the bergamot orange.

Restaurants closed in Athens on Friday, March 13. For Sophia Vracha, it was a “horrible” day, a real “Friday the 13th,” as she put it. Together with her parents, Nikos and Mary, Sophia runs Kissos, a taverna in Chalandri that I wrote about when things were still “normal,” just about a month before the city went into lockdown. While it was a hard day for the family, they had seen it coming. “There was a rumor out and about in the week before it happened,” Sophia said. As she described it, a general feeling of uneasiness and insecurity was in the air. People really began to panic when Covid-19 arrived in Italy, thinking that it was just a matter of days before the virus would come to Greece.

Considering that there are more than 40,000 cultivated varieties, it’s no surprise that rice has fed people so successfully for so long. Many believe the wonder crop was first cultivated in China as early as 2500 B.C. before spreading to Tibet, India and beyond. It was in India that one of Alexander the Great’s military campaigns came across rice in the 4th century B.C. In his work Geographica (“Geography”), Greek geographer Strabo (c. 62 B.C.-24 A.D.) quotes a source from the campaign: “The rice, according to Aristobolus, stands in water in an enclosure. It is sowed in beds. The plant is four cubits in height, with many ears, and yields a large produce.”

I have always loved dolmades, stuffed grape leaves, and my family obviously knew it. My grandmother would make loads of them and would call my mom to tell her, “I made dolmades for Carolina.” Dolmades, just for me! I especially liked the ones with just rice and herbs that we eat cold – you can pop them in your mouth like candy. Likewise, avgolemono, the smooth yet tart lemon and egg sauce, is another favorite of mine. My grandfather George was an expert on making this. As a child I’d stand next to him while he was whisking quickly but with a masterful technique he had acquired over the years of being married to my grandmother Rena. She would stand next to him, like a general, on the lookout for possible mistakes and giving him directions.

In the next installment of CB Cooks, a series that brings our walk leaders into your home for a live cooking demonstration, Carolina Doriti, our Athens bureau chief, will be cooking dolmades avgolemono, stuffed grape leaves with avgolemono sauce. Her Instagram Live will run on Thursday, May 7, at 11:30 a.m. EDT (GMT-4). If you want to cook along with Carolina, here are the ingredients you’ll need (although all are welcome to come watch, even if you’re not cooking).

Greek Easter was extraordinary – in the truest sense of the word – this year. Despite the fantastic weather people had to stay at home to celebrate, quite a lonesome setup compared to the crowded daylong outdoor feast that we are normally used to. Despite being at home, my 7-year-old son and I did all the same Easter traditions, just in smaller quantities. One of the most fun traditions for children is the “egg breaking” ritual. We dye eggs on Good Thursday; this year, since my son is into space and Star Wars, we used that as inspiration and dyed our eggs like planets – we’ve got plenty of time, so we might as well use it creatively!

This year Greek Easter will be celebrated a week later than Catholic Easter. I guess “celebrated” might not be the right word, as everything – for the first time in recent history – will be shut, even the churches. In Greece, Easter is as important as Christmas. If they can, most Athenians leave the city to spend the holiday in the countryside or on an island, where the setting is ideal for the ultimate Easter tradition – a whole lamb on a spit, roasting in the open air on Easter Sunday. Everyone gravitates toward this central attraction, sipping on tsipouro and wine and munching on meze till the feast is ready to officially commence.

If you happen to wander around a Greek supermarket or visit a Greek bakery, you will notice that there is always a section dedicated to paximadia (paximadi in the singular) of various shapes and sizes piled high or wrapped in cellophane bags. At first glance, they look like nothing more than slices of stale bread. So it can be surprising to learn that paximadia (or rusks), once a peasant food found in the poor areas of Greece, are greatly loved all over the country, with many different types available for purchase: from large rustic looking thick slices to small bite-sized “croutons.”

It’s 6 a.m. Lately I’ve been waking up really early. I don’t expend enough energy I guess – not in the rhythms that I am used to anyway. Everything is suddenly so different, so eerie and lonely, and at the same time I feel like I’m being watched – as if I’m part of a movie or a weird version of Big Brother or Survivor, the kind of game show where everyone is on the same mission, but no one really trusts each other. Everyone’s scared of something invisible, and if you sneeze or cough, you get a strange look. I was joking around with the few people who were worried about Covid-19 before it had even reached Europe. At the end of January, the coronavirus made it’s way to Italy – right next door. That’s when more people started worrying.