A few weeks ago was the Greek music, food and art festival at the Greek Orthodox Church. We used to go every year to get their delicious Loukamathes, otherwise known as honey puffs (or as we call them, Greek balls). Well, last year we didn’t. Perhaps the novelty wore off? In any case, we weren’t planning on getting any this year. However, as we were walking back home from our musical mall excursion on the mall, we passed by the bus stop, close by to where the festival was. There was a lady and her (I assume) child sitting at the bus stop enjoying a basket full of succulent, honeyed-up Loukamathes. Mama said, “Ooh! Nummy!” Unfortunately, as I tend to have a longer stride then the rest of the peeps, I was about ten paces down when the lady offered them some of the tempting morsels and therefor missed out on deliciousness. Augh! Running back and dibs’ing one was, of course, out of the question. Returning back home and then going to the fair to get some wasn’t to appealing either. Well, what else could I do? One last thing: A quick google search for Loukamathes soon produced a recipe for sticky treat.

So, after printing out the recipe, it only took a short time to whip up the dough (and a slighty longer time to let it rise) and before I knew it, I was heating up a vat of canola oil in the cast iron skillet. Once the oil temp. reached 375F, I plopped in a few walnut (shelled) sized balls of dough. Once they were golden-ish brown, I pulled them out. Tasting one, it had the similar texture to the Loukamathe, but didn’t really taste like it. However, they hadn’t been tossed in the honey-cinnamon sauce yet.

As I put in another batch into the bubbling, pan-shaped cauldron, Luke came into the kitchen to do a little back-seat cooking. He tested one. Afterwards, he said they should cooked a lot more, that the real one he had earlier was a lot darker. Since the last time he saw a real one was three hours ago, and the last time I saw one was three years ago, I took his word for it and let them cook a lot longer. When they looked as brown as they could reasonably be, I pulled them out. Luke then tried one as I put in another batch. “Abort! Abort!” Said he. Apperantly, they actually weren’t meant to be cooked that long. Fortunately, they didn’t taste bad, just . . . crispy.

So, after all the dough balls had been bathed in the vatty of fatty vahalla, we moved onto finishing the honey sauce. We had simmered the water, honey and sugar until it was . . . good. I mixed a bit of cinnamon in it. Then, I asked Luke to crush up some walnuts to put in it. He responded, “Don’t they use peanuts?” “No, I’m pretty sure they use walnuts…” I replied. He said, “Hmm, I think peanuts is what they’d use for this kinda thing.” This was a dispute that only one man with years of experience could answer. “Go ask Papa” I summoned.

So, he came in to see how the cooking was going. After apprising him of the situation, he said, “Walnuts, definitely.” Whoohoo!

So, As I was stirring the sauce a bit, Papa crushed the walnuts. There, Luke said, “They should be really chunky.” Pa, “Really?” Luke, “Oh yeah.” So chunky they were.

After the sauce-nuts were ready, we stirred in the balls, transforming them from plain, unglazed doughnut holes into full fledged Loukamathes! Man, they were tasty! However, we all agreed that the walnuts could have been chopped a bit finer. One thing we learned: Luke may know how to eat Loukamathes, but making them is another story.

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So yeah. In any case, the Greek sure know good pastry when they invent it!