Fourth of July again, the annual collision of American patriotism and Greek culinary stubbornness. My backyard. Souvlaki and hamburgers. Keftedes and hot dogs. A flag cake sitting next to baklava in a cultural arrangement that perfectly captures what it means to be a Greek-American family in Florida: fiercely both, apologetically neither.
This year's crowd was bigger — neighbors, friends, a few colleagues from the brokerage who accepted my invitation and then looked wonderfully confused by the amount of Greek food at an American holiday cookout. My neighbor Karen brought her famous potato salad. I brought spanakopita, souvlaki, hummus, grilled halloumi, and a lamb kofta that I am particularly proud of — the spiced lamb patties grilled on skewers that are somewhere between a meatball and a burger and are better than both.
Mama came down from Tarpon Springs and ate one hamburger with the dutiful expression of a woman completing an annual obligation. Then she returned to the keftedes and the world made sense again. Alexander manned the grill. Sophia floated between groups, social and confident, more at ease in her skin than she was a year ago. Fourteen suits her. She wears it well.
Dimitri brought fireworks — the legal kind, which in Florida is most of them — and the boys set them off in the backyard while Mama watched with the expression of a woman who has survived wars and revolutions and does not understand why Americans celebrate anything with explosions. Yia-yia Despina sat in a lawn chair and watched the fireworks with her mouth slightly open and her eyes bright, and for a moment she looked not like a ninety-year-old woman but like a girl seeing something wondrous for the first time.
I made my yogurt and berry flag cake again — layers of thick Greek yogurt mousse with strawberries and blueberries arranged in a flag pattern. It is absurdly patriotic and entirely delicious and Sophia ate three pieces while telling me about the Declaration of Independence in a way that suggested she had recently studied it and wanted me to know. I said the Greeks invented democracy. She said I know, Mom, you mention it every Fourth of July. I do mention it. I will continue to mention it. Greece invented democracy. Everything else is commentary.
Every year, the lamb kofta gets the most compliments — but the recipe my neighbors actually write down on their phones before they leave is the tzatziki. It is the thing that travels between worlds without apology: it goes on the souvlaki, it goes on the kofta, and at some point during the evening, Karen from next door dipped her potato salad fork into it and looked at me with an expression that said she understood something new. Making it the night before is the only way — it needs the time to become what it is supposed to be, which is cold, garlicky, deeply Greek, and entirely unapologetic about all of it.
Best Tzatziki
Prep Time: 15 minutes | Chill Time: 1 hour | Total Time: 1 hour 15 minutes | Servings: 8
Ingredients
- 2 cups full-fat Greek yogurt
- 1 English cucumber (about 12 oz)
- 3 cloves garlic, finely minced or pressed
- 2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
- 2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil, plus more for drizzling
- 2 tablespoons fresh dill, finely chopped (or 1 tablespoon fresh mint)
- 3/4 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
- 1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
Instructions
- Grate and drain the cucumber. Grate the cucumber on the large holes of a box grater. Wrap in a clean kitchen towel or several layers of cheesecloth and squeeze firmly over the sink until most of the liquid is removed. This step is essential — a watery cucumber will thin your tzatziki and it will never recover.
- Combine the base. In a medium bowl, stir together the Greek yogurt, drained cucumber, minced garlic, lemon juice, and olive oil until evenly combined.
- Add the herbs and season. Fold in the fresh dill (or mint), salt, and pepper. Taste and adjust — it should be bright, garlicky, and well-seasoned. If it tastes flat, it needs more salt or lemon.
- Chill before serving. Cover and refrigerate for at least 1 hour, and ideally overnight. The flavors meld and deepen considerably with time. The tzatziki will also thicken slightly as it sits.
- Finish and serve. Transfer to a serving bowl, drizzle with a generous pour of olive oil, and garnish with a sprig of fresh dill or a pinch of paprika. Serve alongside souvlaki, lamb kofta, pita, grilled vegetables, or whatever is coming off the grill.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 75 | Protein: 5g | Fat: 4g | Carbs: 4g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 210mg