My Greek dinner, George Calombaris and celebrity

"Why would you want to be a chef? I've 20 years in it this year, and I am 37 with varicose veins but I am totally obsessed by it, and addicted to it like a drug." George Calombaris

My niece and partner are coming to dinner tonight, so after our Melissa experience the other day, and writing about the Greeks I decided to go Greek. Now I don't have many Greek recipe books. Just two in fact - a Lantern Cookery Classic called, simply, George Calombariis, and a pretty old little paperback by Robin Howe called Greek Cooking. But I have lots of Greek recipes scattered through some of my other books of course.

First of all I thought back to the wonderful haloumi and strawberry salsa dish that I made earlier this year from a recipe in Coles Magazine. It's not actually Greek but it has a Greek - well Cypriot - background in the fried haloumi. Then I thought of my George Calombaris book which I don't think I have ever used, though it has lots and lots of tempting looking things in it.

I chose two dishes (more later) and then thought to do an 'A word from' feature on George Calombaris. But I couldn't really find many words and so I abandoned that idea. Besides I wouldn't exactly say he is one of my favourite chefs. I really just don't know him.

For I do not watch Master Chef for which he is most famous. And even though prior to appearing on Master Chef he had won numerous international and national awards for his food it was really Master Chef that made him a celebrity. So to become a celebrity chef, first, it seems to me, you need to establish a reputation for cooking somehow and then you use that reputation to get yourself a television show and an interested publisher to publish your recipes - or your biography (Anthony Bourdain). Then you become a celebrity. And then a businessman. You open restaurants - some succeed, some fail. In an interview he said that 85% of restaurants make a mere 2.5% profit. Which I can sort of believe. He has railed at the government over penalty rates and fringe benefits taxes:

"I want ... more love, more care," he says. "Do one thing for me, remove Fringe Benefits tax, to stimulate lunch trade. I am not crying poor, I am living well, but I work my absolute arse off and I want this industry to be fruitful forever."

Once a celebrity, the press is just waiting for you to make a mistake. And he has made at least two - a payroll system that messed up the pay of some of his employees by a couple of million - some underpaid, some overpaid, and a punch-up at a football match when somebody heckled him about the payroll thing. Such is celebrity. I am not going to pass judgement on any of this because I'm not really that interested, but it does demonstrate that with the glamour and fame comes the downside of too much attention.

The Press Club, shown above is his flagship restaurant. Expensive and classy. I haven't been. A far cry from his mother's kitchen where he first fell in love with food.

"This is why I fell in love [with food] ... it was the rituals: You would never eat until mum sat down, and you would never leave the table until dad got up."

And which, he claims, became his religion:

"Everyone has their own religion, beliefs. Some people are Buddhists, I don't care – it is up to them – but my religion is food."

Surely more of an obsession.

Apparently one of his most well-known recipes is a very elaborate rice pudding called Risagolo but the recipes in the book in my possession are much simpler than that. I am going to try Braised Chicken and Celery Fricassee and Yoghurt and Lemon Syrup Cake. I was intrigued by the use of Iceberg lettuce in the chicken dish and I did think of a chocolate baklava instead of the cake but my husband said to go with the cake so that's what I've done. I can't find the recipes online so will give them below.

chicken fricassee

lemon yoghurt cake

As I write this the cake is finished and is ready to be turned out of it's springform tin, which might be a bit tricky. And mine has sunk in the middle. Lots of my cakes sink in the middle. Why? I did the skewer test and it came out clean, so what did I do wrong? I bet my fricassee doesn't look right either. But I'll give it a go. There won't be much in the way of accompaniments - some garlicky beans and some lemony boiled potatoes I think. Anything fancier would detract from the main dish I think.

BRAISED CHICKEN AND CELERY FRICASSEE

I could not find any chicken Marylands in any of our supermarkets. Have they stopped selling them? So I have some breasts, some drumsticks and some thighs. And I don't currently have any home-made chicken stock, so I'm afraid it's bought in a packet.

1/4 cup (60ml) olive oil

4 chicken Marylands

sea salt flakes

6 sticks celery

1 onion, diced

3 cloves garlic, finely chopped

2 teaspoons dried oregano,

3 stems thyme

1.5 litres chicken stock

1 iceberg lettuce, trimmed, cut into 3 cm squares

large handful dill, finely chopped

100ml lemon juice

4 eggs

dill sprigs and garlic chive buds (optional) to serve

Preheat the oven to 160ºC fan forced, 180ºC conventional.

Heat the olive oil in a heavy-based frying pan over medium heat and cook the chicken pieces, turning until golden brown on both sides, for 5 minutes. Transfer the chicken to a flameproof roasting pan and season well with salt.

Add the celery, onion, garlic and oregano to the frying pan and cook over medium heat for 4-5 minutes. Spoon over the chicken pieces, along with the thyme, then add the chicken stock. Cover tightly with foil and bake for 1 1/4- 1/2 hours or until the chicken is tender.

Remove the chicken pieces from the roasting pan, then put the pan over medium heat, bring the liquid to the boil and simmer until reduced by half. Add the lettuce, dill and lemon juice to the reduced sauce.

Whisk the eggs in a bowl until light and foamy. Add 1/2 cup (125ml) of the hot stock and whisk to combine well, then pour the egg mixture into the pan. Stir over low heat for 2-3 minutes or until the mixture thickens slightly, do not boil or the mixture will curdle. Season to taste with salt. Return the chicken to the pan to warm through. Serve immediately, scattered with herbs, if desired, with the remaining sauce in a jug on the table.

YOGHURT AND LEMON SYRUP CAKE

125g unsalted butter, softened

250g caster sugar

2 eggs

1 cup (280g) natural thick Greek-style yoghurt

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

Finely grated zest of 2 lemons

1/4 cup (60ml) lemon juice

2 1/2 cups (400g) self-raising flour

1/2 teaspoon bicarbonate of soda

Lemon syrup

1 cup (220g) caster sugar

1 cup (250ml) water

1/3 cup (80ml) lemon juice

2 lemons, well scrubbed, thinly sliced widthways

Preheat the oven to 180ºC fan-forced 200ºC conventional. Grease and line a 23cm springform cake tin with baking paper.

Cream the butter and sugar in an electric mixer until light and fluffy. Add the eggs, one at a time, beating well after adding each one, then continue to mix until combined. Add the yoghurt, vanilla, lemon zest and juice and continue to mix. Gently fold the flour and bicarbonate of soda through with a flexible spatula.

Spoon the batter into the prepared cake tin and smooth the surface with the the back of a large metal spoon, the mixture will be quite firm.

Bake for 45 minutes or until the cake is cooked through - a skewer inserted in the centre should come out clean.

Meanwhile for the syrup combine the sugar, water and lemon juice in a small saucepan and cook over low heat, stirring with a wooden spoon to dissolve the sugar. Add the lemon slices and simmer for 10 minutes to soften the lemon,. Set aside to cool.

Remove the cake from the oven and poke it all over with a bamboo skewer to make lots of small holes; this helps the syrup soak into the cake. Slowly pour the cooled lemon syrup over the hot cake until it has been absorbed. Decorate the top of the cake with candied lemon slices. Leave the cake to cool in the tin.

Remove the cake from the tin, slice and serve. (Leftover cake will keep in an airtight container for up to 1 week.)