“We peel one kilo of Jerusalem artichokes (known as kankiofoles on Corfu) and cut them up into small pieces. We sauté them with butter, two full tablespoons worth. We cover the pan and leave to simmer, adding minimal amounts of water, bit by bit. We add salt, remove the pan from the heat, add a solid chunk of fresh butter, pepper and finely chopped parsley.”
This recipe is from a chapter titled “In the Kitchen with the French” in a book by Ninetta H. Laskari titled “Corfu, a look back in time”, published by Potamos. Jerusalem artichokes are essentially the roots of the Helianthus tuberosus plant, hailing from South America. It was brought to Corfu by the French.
This product may be somewhat unknown, unlike Corfu butter, renowned throughout Greece, and, in some cases, beyond. If on the island, the Periklis Alexis dairy shop, at Vrahlioti Square, in the Agios Vassilios canton, is an ideal place to buy your Corfiot butter.
Mr. Kostas Alexis, son of Periklis Alexis, is continuing the family tradition in fresh butter, with livestock of his own, producing the milk used to produce his superb butter. The dairy shop, a cute little place, serves as a hangout for locals who gather around dusk at this shady canton to enjoy its various dairy-based range of goods such as galaktoboureko (semolina custard baked in filo pastry), cream pudding, yoghurt and rice pudding.
The dairy store started life as a grocery store, back in 1935, launched by the grandfather of the venture’s current owner, whose father converted it into its current dairy-store format in 1950. “The fresh milk we use is the secret behind all our products,” noted Mr. Kostas Alexis, while, commenting on Corfu’s renowned butter, he explained that the island’s special flora gives it that almost-yellow colour as well as its aromatic flavour.
The reputation of the island’s butter made it all the way to London courtesy of the shipping tycoon Aristotle Onassis, who arranged for an amount of three kilos per week to be flown into London, along with a crate of Corfiot strawberries, for his wife Jackie to enjoy. At the dairy store, I ordered a vanilla cream pudding and sat at one of three little tables outside. As I enjoyed it, slowly, a steady flow of elderly women entered the store for their fresh butter and rice pudding to take home, “for my granddaughters, visiting from Athens,” as one grandmother told me.
Tourists stopped hesitantly outside the shop to confirm that this down-to-earth place was the dairy shop recommended in the tourist guides they held in their hands before beginning to take pictures and inspecting the front window and basket with fresh eggs. Mr. Kostas Alexis’ son, Periklis, named after his grandfather, works at the family dairy shop, a show of respect for the family business’ past and indication of its probable continuation, lovingly, in the future.
I said goodbye to Mr. Kostas and he replied: “If you’d like, come back later on, when the sun has gone down. A bunch of us meet up here. We stuck around until late last night, once again, until two in the morning. That’s what happens when your chatting and the company is good. Come back for a refreshing rice pudding”.
