To most, Greek cuisine is perhaps best known for its souvlaki (skewered, grilled meat), moussaka (a layered eggplant dish with ground beef and béchamel sauce), and baklava (phyllo-dough pastry soaked in honey). And while all are delicious—and unmistakably Greek—there are other, lesser known dishes that are actually more traditional (and more popular with locals). Mina Stone, whose recently released her book Cooking for Artists pairs traditional Greek recipes with anecdotes and insights into the culture, sat down with Condé Nast Traveler to talk about what Americans can learn from Greek cooking—and some of her yiayia's culinary secrets.

CNT: What Greek recipe is one that you think people should learn how to make—and why?

MS: Faki: Greek lentil soup. It is such a delicious recipe that has lentil haters convert to lentil lovers, and it has only a handful of ingredients in it. It has been one of my favorite recipes since I was a child, which my mother is very proud of! "What other kid liked lentils?" she says.

What significance does the recipe have to you?

It embodies everything I love. Simple, healthy, aromatic, and delicious. In my mind, it is a beautiful dish, and the ingredients read like a poem. Traditional Greek food was often vegetarian, utilizing pulses (dry peas, lentils, and chickpeas) and vegetables as the main meal. I also think Greek cuisine is less known for its simple soups and vegetarian dishes—I like to expose how they can be the best.

What is your earliest memory of faki?

I remember my yiayia making this dish and serving it with big slabs of feta, bread, and salted fish on her balcony. Her house on the island of Aegina is by a pine forest, and the balcony has a view of the Mediterranean Sea. We would always have our big late lunch together and then I would fall asleep on the outdoor bed to the sounds of cicadas. There may or may not have been an ice cream involved in that equation, as well.

What can Americans learn about cooking from Greeks?

The art of simplicity. As time goes on, I think one of the biggest lessons I have learned is that perfectly simple food is one of the hardest things to accomplish. I feel like that is the food I have grown up on, and that is what Greek food represents to me.

Non-related cooking question: If you could recommend one travel experience in Greece, what would it be?

My island of Aegina, of course. Aegina is a small island, about 45 minutes by ship from [the Athens port of] Piraeus. It is a very convenient island to get to—ferries leave on the hour—but you feel as if you have totally escaped the city. It is an island that has one of the most beautiful archeological sites (the Temple of Aphaia) that sits on the top of a lush pine forest overlooking the entire island. Aegina is great for food, as well. The tavernas are exceptional, and there is a big bustling fish market in the center of town along with local vendors selling vegetables, honey, and olive oil. The island is famous for its pistachios and you can see them growing in fields throughout the island.

Faki (Greek lentil soup with cinnamon and cloves)

Serves 6–8

"My yiayia, and most Greeks, traditionally make faki with lentils, onions, bay leaves, tomato puree, and water," says Stone. "I like to include cinnamon and cloves as well, to add depth and warmth. This soup is served with olives, smoked fish, and a hunk of feta. I also like to add an easy salad and some homemade hot sauce. Whatever you serve it with, the idea is to keep it simple."

1 large yellow onion, finely chopped
3 garlic cloves, finely chopped
1 pound green or black lentils, rinsed
2 whole bay leaves
1 cinnamon stick
2 whole cloves
1 teaspoon hot red pepper flakes cup extra-virgin olive oil
1 14.5-ounce can of diced or pureed tomatoes
salt and freshly ground black pepper
2–3 tablespoons red wine vinegar (optional)

1. In a large pot over medium heat, sauté the onions and garlic with a generous drizzle of olive oil and a pinch of salt. Stir occasionally and sauté until the onions start to soften and become translucent, about 6 minutes. Add the bay leaves, cinnamon stick, cloves, and pepper flakes to the onion and garlic. Sauté a minute longer until the spices become fragrant.

2. Add the lentils, tomatoes, and enough water so that the ingredients are covered by 3 inches of liquid in the pot. Turn the heat up to high and bring to a boil, then simmer the soup half-covered with a lid for about 40 minutes until the lentils are tender and the soup is thick. If you feel that the soup is too thick, add more water, a cup at a time.

3. When the soup has finished cooking, add another generous drizzle of olive oil at the end and stir to incorporate. (This is my grandma’s trick—she likes the olive oil to be uncooked whenever possible.) Fish out the two bay leaves and discard.

4. Let the soup sit for 30 minutes and then taste it for seasoning.


Leave out the cinnamon entirely and add a handful of chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley while you are sautéing the onions and garlic.

When tomatoes are in season, it is nice to use 4 large fresh ones, grated, instead of the canned tomatoes. To grate a tomato, hold it by the stem end and rub it against the coarse side of a grater set over a bowl. The skin will split open and you can grate the fleshy interior into pulp, leaving behind the tomato skin and stem, which you discard.