Spring equinox, which means the year is balanced for one day between dark and light, and I find that appealing as a metaphor though I am careful about pushing metaphors too hard. The equinox arrives whether or not you are ready for spring, which is one of its useful qualities.
The garden is beginning. The peas have pushed up their first pair of leaves — I checked Monday morning and there they were, two small green ovals standing up straight in the mud. Every year this moment surprises me. Every year I know it is coming and it still feels like something given rather than something earned. That is the garden's particular grace. You do the work and then the grace happens anyway, and you cannot quite take credit for the grace part.
I have been thinking about the baby's name more than I have allowed myself to admit. CJ said they were discussing it, which is true, and he said whatever they decided would be right, which is also true. But I know my son and I know the conversation we almost had at Christmas and I have been holding it carefully. If this baby is named Marcus — even as a middle name — that is the continuation of something that I have been praying for without knowing I was praying for it: a Marcus in this family again. Not the same Marcus. His own Marcus. A new one, with his own story that happens to carry the name forward the way cast iron carries its seasoning forward, the history present in every meal without being the meal itself.
I am not going to say any of this to CJ. It is not mine to say. But I am holding it in the category of hopes I carry carefully, the ones I put down gently rather than pressing for, trusting that the right things find their way if you don't crowd them.
When I came inside after checking on the peas that Monday morning, I wanted to cook something that understood what it means to hold something gently and let it become what it is. Nana’s dolmades have always been that kind of recipe for me —rsquo; each leaf rolled around its filling and set in the pot, the avgolemono brightening everything at the end with lemon and egg. You do the patient work of the rolling, and then the grace of that sauce happens, and you can’t quite take full credit for how good it turns out. That felt right for this particular week.
Nana’s Dolmades with Avgolemono Sauce
Prep Time: 45 min | Cook Time: 55 min | Total Time: 1 hr 40 min | Servings: 6
Ingredients
- 1 jar (16 oz) grape leaves in brine, rinsed and stems trimmed
- 1 lb ground lamb (or a mix of lamb and beef)
- 3/4 cup long-grain white rice, uncooked
- 1 medium yellow onion, finely grated
- 1/4 cup fresh dill, finely chopped
- 2 tablespoons fresh mint, finely chopped
- 3 tablespoons olive oil, divided
- 1/2 teaspoon ground allspice
- 1 teaspoon kosher salt
- 1/2 teaspoon black pepper
- 3 cups low-sodium chicken broth, divided
- Juice of 2 lemons, divided
- For the avgolemono sauce:
- 3 large eggs
- Juice of 1 lemon (about 3 tablespoons)
- 1 cup hot broth from the cooked dolmades
- 1 tablespoon cornstarch
Instructions
- Make the filling. In a large bowl, combine the ground lamb, uncooked rice, grated onion, dill, mint, 1 tablespoon olive oil, allspice, salt, and pepper. Mix gently with your hands until just combined — do not overwork it.
- Prepare the pot. Line the bottom of a heavy-bottomed pot or Dutch oven with a single layer of grape leaves (use any torn or small leaves for this). Drizzle with 1 tablespoon olive oil.
- Roll the dolmades. Lay a grape leaf smooth-side down on your work surface. Place about 1 tablespoon of filling near the stem end. Fold the sides in over the filling, then roll firmly from the stem end toward the tip to form a compact cylinder. Repeat with remaining leaves and filling. Do not roll too tight — the rice needs room to expand.
- Layer in the pot. Arrange the rolled dolmades snugly in the pot, seam-side down, in tight layers. Pour in 2 cups of chicken broth and the juice of 1 lemon. Drizzle the remaining tablespoon of olive oil over the top.
- Weight and simmer. Place a heavy heat-safe plate directly on top of the dolmades to keep them from unrolling. Cover the pot and bring to a gentle simmer over medium heat. Reduce to low and cook for 50–55 minutes, until the rice is tender and most of the liquid is absorbed. Add remaining broth if the pot looks dry.
- Make the avgolemono. In a medium bowl, whisk together the eggs, lemon juice, and cornstarch until smooth. Slowly ladle about 1 cup of the hot cooking broth into the egg mixture while whisking constantly to temper it. Pour this mixture back into the pot, gently tilting to distribute. Do not boil after adding the sauce.
- Rest and serve. Remove from heat and let rest, uncovered, for 10 minutes. The sauce will thicken as it cools slightly. Arrange dolmades on a platter and spoon the avgolemono sauce generously over the top. Serve warm with crusty bread and extra lemon wedges.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 390 | Protein: 22g | Fat: 19g | Carbs: 32g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 610mg