Beans and Horta: The Low-Key Dish That Tastes Like a Hug

Step into any Greek kitchen, and you’ll find horta—wild greens masquerading as simple weeds but secretly the MVPs of every meal. Grandmothers have been conscripting grandkids into the noble art of horta-hunting for generations, strolling through hills and olive groves armed with knives, baskets, and endless wisdom.

Think of horta as nature’s grocery store, offering a different selection every season. Spring brings dandelions, wild garlic, and borage. Summer? That’s amaranth and purslane season. Winter rolls in with wild chicories and reichardia. Basically, there’s a wild green for every mood and meal.

Let’s pause here for a moment: who decided these greens were a free buffet? The answer, unsurprisingly, is necessity. Back in the days of hard labour and harder times, these greens weren’t a trendy health hack—they were survival. Need vitamins but can’t afford them? Bam, here’s a plate of horta. It’s like nature’s way of saying, “I got you.”

How to Prep and Cook Edible Weeds Without Losing Your Mind

Here’s the good news: cooking horta is stupidly simple. The bad news? Prepping it will make you question your life choices. The cleaning process is a mess. You’ll spend half an hour picking out dirt, twigs, and God-knows-what-else from your greens. Nefteria, my local produce dealer and unofficial life coach chants her mantra to me every time: “Wash, wash, wash!”

It’s smooth sailing once your greens are as clean as a surgeon’s gloves. Boil them for a few minutes—soft but still slightly crunchy is the sweet spot. After boiling, throw them into icy water to keep that vibrant green glow. Drain, season with salt, olive oil, lemon, and ta-da—you’re a Mediterranean legend.

Here’s where things get interesting. You’re not locked into one way of enjoying horta. Some folks swear by sautéing them with olive oil (horta tsigarista), while others love baking them in a phyllo pie (hortopita). But I’m a horta purist—boiled, seasoned, and straight to the plate. Oh, and if you want to earn your place at the Greek table, sip the leftover broth. It’s like herbal tea but angrier.

Why Horta Is the Real Kitchen MVP

• It’s adaptable: Boil, sauté, or bake. Whatever works.
• Seasonal: Nature changes the menu four times a year.
• Nutritious: Packed with more vitamins than your multivitamin pack.
• Sustainable: Forage responsibly, and you’ll never run out.

Some Thoughts While I Finish My Recipe

If you think horta belongs to fancy chefs or old-world traditions, think again. Any backyard or farmer’s market could be hiding these edible gems. Sure, you’ll wrestle some dirt and twigs in the process, but the payoff? Totally worth it. Whether you’re into health kicks, authentic cooking, or just curious about what makes Greek food so soulfully good, horta should be your next adventure.

Now, excuse me while I cook beans and horta.

Beans and Horta

A simple beans and edible weeds recipe that’s packed with flavor. Perfect for anyone looking for a healthy, budget-friendly, hearty meal.

For the stew:

• 3 ½ tbsp olive oil (50 ml)
• 1 medium onion (sliced)
• 3 garlic cloves (minced)
• 1 cup dried beans (use great northern or any kind you love, 7 oz/200 g)
• 2 ¼ lb amaranth greens (wild greens or dandelion work too, 1 kg)
• 1 lb spinach (washed and chopped, 17.5 oz/500 g)
• 1 ¾ cup canned diced tomatoes (14 oz/400 g)
• 1 tsp salt
• ½ tsp black pepper
• ¼ tsp crushed red chili flakes (optional but highly recommended)

For serving:

• 1 ¾ oz rustic bread or croutons (crumbled (about 50 g))
• 3 ½ oz feta (crumbled (100 g))
• Drizzle of extra virgin Cretan olive oil

Step 1: Soften the Beans—Because Nobody Loves a Jaw Workout

1. Dump your overnight soaked beans into a pot, drown them in water, and let them boil away. Don't overthink it—just cook until they’re soft, 45 minutes to an hour. (Yes, you can use canned if patience isn’t your virtue.)

Step 2: Onion & Garlic—The Holy Scent Begins

1. Heat the olive oil in a wide, heavy-bottomed pot. Don’t rush things. Add the onion and let it break a sweat over medium heat. Stir occasionally while enjoying that “I’m an adult who cooks” aroma. Pro tip: Don’t brown the onion—we’re going for soft and fragrant, not charred drama.

2. Toss in the garlic. Stir it for a minute, just long enough to smell like your kitchen’s hosting a Mediterranean soirée.

Step 3: Beans Meet Greens

1. Stir your glorious cooked beans into that onion-garlic mix. Let them mingle and soak up the good vibes for a couple of minutes.

2. Now, add the horta and spinach in batches. They’ll look impossibly huge at first, but trust me, they’ll shrink faster than your weekend plans. Put a lid on it and wait for the greens to wilt—this is the part where magic happens.

Step 4: Flavor Explosion Time

1. Pour in the diced tomatoes along with the salt, pepper, and chili flakes. Stir it all together like the master chef you are. Cover the pot and simmer on low heat for 30 minutes. Check occasionally to make sure it isn’t drying out—add a splash of water if needed. The goal? Tender greens and juicy beans cozying up in a tomatoey broth.

Step 5: Plate It Like You Mean It

1. Spoon this hearty goodness onto a serving platter like it’s dinner at grandma’s. Top with crumbled bread chunks, sprinkle feta all over, and give it a loving drizzle of olive oil.

Boom! You’ve just made Beans and Edible Weeds. It’s earthy, it’s rustic, and it tastes like something you’d brag about eating in a mountain village. Perfect for when you want comfort food without pretending you care about takeout.

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Note for the Keyboard Warriors: If the idea of edible weeds has you side-eyeing your backyard, relax. You can swap in kale or chard—no need to poison your coworkers showing off your new “wild greens knowledge.”

Main Course

Mediterranean

beans, Cretan cuisine, Cretan diet, Cretan food, edible weeds, horta, vegetarian food