It used to be the only favors I asked of Helena Bedwell were for phone numbers of particular officials I could not otherwise get from my usual sources. Helena, a journalist for 25 years, knows everyone in Tbilisi. Then last week, I called her for some help of a more domestic kind: I wanted to learn how to cook a Georgian holiday dish. She offered to show me pelamushi, a voluptuous tooth-smacking porridge. A couple of years ago, the Georgian journalist published her first cookbook, “Georgian Flavors from Helena,” a homey, straightforward collection of her take on classic Georgian recipes designed for “busy and on-the-go” people like her who may be abroad and want to recreate Georgian dishes with a limited supply of time and ingredients.

In Greece, Epiphany is celebrated on January 6 (some eastern Orthodox churches celebrate it on January 19). To say it’s significant is an understatement: For eastern Christians like the Greeks, the day commemorates the baptism of Jesus in the River Jordan by John the Baptist, seen as his manifestation as the son of God. For western Christians, the celebration came to commemorate the visit of the Magi; as a result, the day is also called Three Kings’ Day, often shortened to Kings’ Day. Called Theofania (theos=god + faino=reveal) or commonly Ton Foton (Των Φώτων, which literally translates “Of the Lights”), the celebration revolves around the blessing of waters. The process begins on the day prior, January 5, which is called protagiasi or fotisi.

The presence of bread on the Greek Christmas table is rich with significance: It symbolizes hope for prosperity, an abundant harvest year and good health. The tradition of baking bread for a festive occasion, as well as its many symbolic meanings, can be traced back to ancient times, when many great Mediterranean civilizations associated the cycle of human life with the full life cycle of wheat. It was a belief that embedded deeply in Greek folk culture and has survived over the centuries, ultimately coming to occupy an important place in Christianity. Christopsomo (Christ’s Bread) is a type of traditional Christmas bread prepared all across Greece. The bread itself and the ceremonial nature of preparing it symbolize the prosperity of the household.

Unlike many other pulses, most bean varieties were not native to the eastern Mediterranean, originating instead in Central and South America. Yet they have adapted well to the climate in Greece (and across the globe) and are now quite popular and an important source of protein here, where they are cooked in a variety of ways. In fact, the bean soup known as fasolada is considered our national dish – it’s humble, affordable and easy-to-cook yet still hearty and delicious. Gigantes (“giants”) are particularly loved in Greece. These large white beans are also known as elephant beans, a nod to their size. Some of the best giant beans in Greece are grown in the country’s northwest, most famously in Prespes and Kastoria, both regions with a PGI (Protected Geographic Indication) for giant beans.

Pastitsio (παστίτσιο) is rightfully among the most beloved and classic dishes of the Greek cuisine. Its name, deriving from the Italian noun pasticcio, means a mess or a big mix-up. “Ma che pasticcio!” cry the Italians, meaning “But what a mess!” It’s also a musical term with a similar meaning: A pasticcio or pastiche is an opera or other musical work that draws from different composers. Likewise, from architecture to fine arts and literature, the term refers to works that directly imitate the style of one or more artists. Pasticcio, the dish, is also comprised of different elements and ingredients. The term was first used in Italy during the 16th century to refer to a Renaissance-born category of hearty pies or, more accurately speaking, pasties (because they are pies that are also covered on top with pastry).

Chirosfagia (Χοιροσφάγια, meaning “pig slaughtering”) is an old custom with ancient roots that takes place all around Greece during the winter season. Rural households – especially those involved in agriculture – typically bred a pig that was destined to be slaughtered before Christmas (between late October and Christmas Eve, depending on the region). Also known as gourounochara (which surprisingly translates as “pig happiness”), it’s a practice that guarantees a good Christmas feast. Although less widespread than before, this tradition still takes place, particularly in villages and on islands, and the slaughtering ceremony is usually a separate festivity on its own, involving music, feasting and drinking. No part of the pig goes to waste: The best cuts are set aside for the Christmas table while other parts are cured or preserved in different ways.

When rice first arrived in Greece in the 4th century B.C., a result of Alexander the Great’s campaigns in India, it was initially used as a form of medicine, usually to cure an upset stomach. With these medicinal roots, it’s no wonder that ryzogalo (ρυζόγαλο, ρύζι + γάλα, with ryzi meaning “rice” and gala meaning “milk”), or rice pudding, is so comforting. But the soothing mix of milk and rice is by no means unique to Greece: Almost every culture around the globe has its own take on rice pudding, with countless variations in flavors – including cardamom, saffron, rosewater, almonds and pistachios – ingredients and methods. Generally speaking, though, this type of pudding is more often sweet than savory, and is usually baked or boiled.

A part of the Allium family, which also includes onions and garlic, leeks (prasa, πράσα, in Greek) are native to the Middle East and the eastern Mediterranean region. The hardy crop has been widely used since at least the second millennium B.C., first by the ancient Egyptians and Mesopotamians and later by the Greeks and the Romans, who spread it across Europe. Nutrient dense, leeks are rich in vitamins and minerals. The ancient Greek physician Hippocrates recommended the vegetable for the proper functioning of the urinary system and as a treatment for excessive swelling (it had additional medicinal uses in ancient times, including as a remedy to strengthen the throat and voice).

Hnin “Snow” Wai is on a mission to introduce Burmese food and culture to New York. Together with her husband, Snow (Hnin means “Snow” in Burmese, so she likes to be called “Snow” in English) is the co-founder of DeRangoon, a Burmese catering company based in East Elmhurst, Queens. The couple began vending at the Queens Night Market in 2017, and Snow’s tea leaf salad recipe was included in “The World Eats Here: Amazing Food and The Inspiring People Who Make It At Queens Night Market” (The Experiment, 2020). Earlier this year we spoke to co-authors John Wang, the Queens Night Market founder, and Storm Garner, a filmmaker and oral historian, about the cookbook, which showcases 88 diverse recipes directly from Queens Night Market’s vendor-chefs, many of whom are first- and second-generation immigrants.

Did you know that the idea of a cheesecake is centuries old? In his book Cheesecake Madness (Simon & Schuster, 1984), John Segreto writes that, according to his research, the first cheesecake was documented between 800 to 700 B.C. on the island of Samos; other scholars, having studied ancient cheese molds and other findings unearthed in Greece, argue that a form of ancient cheesecake existed in the region even before 2000 B.C. What we know for sure is that the ancient Greeks were enamored with the combination of cheese and honey (a combination that is still popular to this day). This makes sense when you consider that honey was the main sweetener back then, a vital ingredient in both sweet and savory recipes and sauces.

In terms of popularity, no other dish in Greece can compete with gemista (γεμιστά, which means stuffed in Greek and refers to vegetables stuffed in various ways). I can’t think of even one person I know who doesn’t eat it in some form, whether tomatoes, peppers, zucchinis (and their flowers), onions or eggplants stuffed with some combination of meat, rice, wheat or other grains, seafood, pulses, nuts, fresh herbs and spices. It’s a popular dish across the Mediterranean as well as in the Middle East and the Balkans. Gemista differs from stuffed leaves, like cabbage or grape leaves, which technically fall into the “rolled” rather than the “stuffed” category (even though they are referred to as “stuffed” in English) and thus are given a different name in Greek. Unless further specified, gemista usually involves stuffing tomatoes and green peppers, which are then baked.

I fell in love with the island of Kimolos the first time I set foot on it about 15 years ago, while sailing in the area. It’s small enough to get around on your own two feet and has an enchanting simplicity – I could easily picture myself retiring on the island, in a small whitewashed house with a wood-burning oven in the yard, raising a couple of goats and growing tomatoes and grapes. Part of the Cyclades, Kimolos sits right next to the larger island of Milos and small uninhabited islands like Polyegos, Agios Efstratios and Prasonisi. It has been continuously inhabited since at least the late Neolithic Age (5300-4500 B.C.), while legend has it that the island was named after its first inhabitant, Kimolos, the husband of Side, who was the daughter of Taurus.

As anyone familiar with Greek folk religious traditions and habits can tell you, communication between Greeks and their saints has traditionally been quite direct – saints are addressed with respect, of course, but also in a friendly and familiar manner. I myself have witnessed several people – almost always of the older generations – have a proper “conversation” (more like a monologue) with the saint of their choice. Each saint has a particular day on which they’re celebrated; in some places, large festivals are thrown in their patron saint’s honor, with people of all ages dancing and drinking wine until the early morning hours. Throughout the year, it’s common for Greeks to make special “deals” with their saints.

Everybody knows moussaka – it’s one of the most popular Greek dishes, along with souvlaki and Greek salad. In Greece, it’s commonly written in English, often in large letters, outside touristy tavernas. But many people don’t know that moussaka, which is traditionally made in summer, when eggplants are in season, has a cousin named melitzanes papoutsakia (eggplant papoutsakia). This dish is similar to moussaka but comes together much more quickly: Halved eggplants are baked, stuffed with a beef sauce (like the one used in moussaka) and then topped with a kind of Greek-style béchamel made with eggs.

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.