Souvlaki’s name derives from the medieval Greek for skewer, but grilling meat on sticks was a practice taken from the Muslim cooks of the near east. As the Oxford Companion to Food notes, these days they’re often made of “un-Islamic pork”. Often, but not always, you will find chicken and lamb versions (indeed, in Australia, where post-pub souvas are an institution, lamb is apparently the default).
But the consensus on Twitter seems to be that pork is the classic iteration in souvlaki’s homeland, albeit consumed in very different ways depending on where you are – wrapped in bread or on a plate; on its own or with chips, salad, onions, pickles, herbs, and a whole array of sauces; or simply eaten straight from a pointy piece of wood by the side of the road. But what’s the best way to make it at home?
The meat
The two most common cuts used in the souvlaki recipes I try are tenderloin (generally called fillet in this country), or neck and shoulder. The latter, Belinda Harley notes in her book Roast Lamb in the Olive Groves, should have a little fat left on “so that it doesn’t dry out”. As a devotee of the fat-means-flavour school of thought, I expect that the well-marbled shoulder I try will be far superior to the lean fillet, and that the pork belly used by Tonia Buxton in the Real Greek Cookbook will be better still. But we decide that, cooked quickly on a high heat, the tenderness of the fillet wins us over. That said, there’s little to beat the taste of good-quality chargrilled pork fat, so I’ve decided to use a combination of shoulder and fillet; belly is a little too rich, even for us.
Harley cuts the meat into very small pieces for her mini kebabs, but if you keep them a little larger, they’ll stay juicier during cooking.
The marinade
The simplest marinades come from Harley and Tessa Kiros’ Falling Cloudberries: lemon juice, oregano, and olive oil, with bay leaves in Harley’s too. Georgina Hayden’s Taverna, which celebrates the food of her Greek Cypriot family, uses garlic, fresh rosemary and thyme, with red-wine vinegar instead of the lemon juice. Greek celebrity chef Akis Petretzikis uses white wine vinegar and garlic along with olive oil and oregano. (He also sticks in a chicken stock cube, giving the meat a deliciously savoury quality – though I’d prefer to let salt do the seasoning, and the pork speak for itself.
Buxton’s recipe, as used at the Real Greek chain, is quite a different beast: the sticky, aromatic marinade of orange juice, honey, mustard, paprika, cinnamon and fennel seeds reminds us (not unhappily) of Chinese roast pork rather than souvlaki. This comparison is encouraged by the fact it’s cooked in the oven, rather than on a grill, and so lacks the char that, my testers say, is vital for transportation-back-to-Greece purposes.
Memories of Greek holidays also prompt my decision to go for dried oregano, rather than Hayden’s fresh herbs, delicious though they are. My guinea pigs, one of whom follows a largely vegetarian diet, rate them as more interesting, but say the oregano is the thing that sings to them of Greece. We all love the garlic though, so I’m going to keep that, and use lemon juice rather than vinegar as you can squeeze the other half over the salad.
Some recipes, including Kiros’, brush the marinade on the meat just before cooking, but you’ll get more flavour if you leave them to mingle for a little longer – I wouldn’t recommend more than three or four hours though, lest the acid in the lemon juice begins to toughen the meat.
The accompaniments
Hayden gives two serving suggestions for her souvlaki: “The more traditional Greek way, with round fluffy pitta breads, chips and mustard sauce” and “the Cypriot way: in oval pitta breads, with shredded cabbage and griddled olives”.
Intrigued by the mayonnaise-based mustard sauce, and tempted by the chips, I opt for the former, but her creamy tzatziki is so very good that most testers opt for that instead. “I’d have to alternate,” the lapsing vegetarian says through a mouthful of meat, “I can’t taste them both together.”
Petretzikis is the only one to add vegetables to the skewers themselves, in the form of red onions and peppers. They are a good combination with the charred pork – “like a home barbecue from the 80s!” Martha says joyfully – but are very much an optional extra. It’s easier, I think, to serve the skewers with a tomato salad, perhaps with some thinly sliced red onion and chopped parsley, as most recipes recommend. (Like Kiros, I prefer to soak my onions for a milder flavour, but if you’re less of a wimp, feel free to ignore this step.)
Chips are, of course, always a possibility, but bread is a must. Oval Arabic pitta are the most widely available here, but if you’re lucky enough to have access to a shop selling fluffier, round flatbreads (I got mine from a Turkish greengrocers), they’re much easier to roll up around the meat, and better at soaking up the juices too. Or, if you’re more of a sourdough sort, Harley suggests using slices of “country bread” as a plate.
I’ll leave the last word on souvlaki to Hayden, a woman practically weaned on them: “Be sure to finish with a sprinkle of paprika”.
Prep 30 min
Soak 20 min
Cook 15 min
Makes 4
For the skewers
600g pork tenderloin
200g pork shoulder
2 garlic cloves, peeled and crushed
100ml olive oil
Juice of ½ lemon
1 tbsp dried oregano
½ tsp fine salt
To serve
½ red onion, peeled
4 large tomatoes
Juice of ½ lemon
1 small bunch flat-leaf parsley, roughly chopped
4 flatbreads
200g tzatziki
1 pinch paprika
Cut the tenderloin and shoulder into cubes of roughly 2x3cm. Whisk together the crushed garlic, oil, lemon juice, oregano and salt in a container large enough to hold all the meat, then add the cubes and turn until well coated.
Cover and leave to sit in a cool place for between one and four hours.
Soak four wooden skewers in water, if using.
About half an hour before you want to eat, slice the onion very thinly. For a milder flavour, put in a bowl of cold water and leave to soak for 20 minutes.
Meanwhile, slice the tomatoes and arrange on a plate. Season and sprinkle with lemon juice, then scatter with the drained onion and the parsley.
Prepare a barbecue, or heat a griddle pan until smoking hot. Thread the meat on to the skewers, pushing it together so you can’t see any skewer between the pieces. Griddle on all sides until well browned and cooked through. Meanwhile, warm the flatbreads in another hot pan or a low oven.
Sprinkle the skewers with paprika and serve with salad, tzatziki and bread.
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Does souvlaki mean pork, chicken or lamb to you – or something even more exotic? How do you like to eat them, and where does the best version you’ve ever had?
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