Non-vegan in a vegan world
Roman greets us with a big smile in his cosy "living-kitchen-room", as he likes to call it. His warm and welcoming attitude matches the intimate space he has created. Soybird nests at street level on Veikou, one of Koukaki's busiest streets. The floor-to-ceiling windows allow light to flow onto the classic Athenian mosaic floor, and also offer clear views of Koukaki's morning life. Across the street, a pottery workshop buzzes with activity, inspiring us to dive right in.
Alexandra hands out our aprons, name tags and detailed recipe sheets while Roman explains his philosophy behind Soybird. "My aim is to show everyone how delicious and healthy vegan food can be. I want people to cook, share and eat together," he says, pointing to the kitchen counter in the middle of the room, already piled high with fresh vegetables, bowls and jars of peculiar ingredients. Although I'm not vegan myself, I can tell tofu from tempeh (both soya products popular in vegan cuisine), but most of the spices laid out before us are new to me.
"Vegan food needs a bit more kick and that is what spices are for. This is kala namak, also known as black salt," Roman explains, holding a large glass jar filled with tiny pink crystals. He hands each of us some to taste, the smell and taste strongly suggesting eggs. "This is a vegan trick to make food taste like it contains eggs in dishes that normally require them," he confides, the first of many expert vegan secrets we will discover during this course.
Chefs Roman Witt and Alexandra Sarigianni of Soybird.
Photo: Thomas Gravanis
Yes, Chef!
Photo: Thomas Gravanis
Divide and conquer
Our group of seven is divided into smaller teams, each duo or trio focusing on a different recipe. The team opposite me has bowls of tomatoes, rusks, olives and olive oil, capers, spices and almonds soaked overnight. "These are all the ingredients you'll need," Aleksandra explains to the two Italian friends working on the Cretan dakos salad. They look at each other in confusion. Self-proclaimed lovers of Greek cuisine, they know that dakos salad calls for feta cheese. But where is it?
Meanwhile, at another side of the counter, the typically whimsical garlic debate erupts: how much is enough for tzatziki? "If you think it's enough, add more," says Roman with a smile. "We're going for a bold tzatziki," he adds, then shows the group the best way to chop garlic.
Another group is meticulously preparing aubergines, some for moussaka and the rest for melitzanosalata, a traditional vegan Greek dip. We're all working on different dishes, using different methods; whisking, chopping, stirring, frying. Roman and Aleksandra have our backs at all times, answering questions, giving advice and taking over the trickier bits when needed.
I hear the mixer working at full speed. Francesca, from the Italian duo, takes the almond mixture and carefully strains it through a piece of cheesecloth, while some of us capture the moment on camera. "It may not look like it now, but after we season and bake this mixture, we'll have a delicious crumbly vegan feta," says Roman. Watching this unfold, I find myself admiring the creativity of vegan cooking and how the process mirrors traditional cheesemaking, but is entirely plant-based. My thoughts are interrupted when Konstantinos, who's on aubergine duty, shouts “Basta!” ("stop" in Italian), eager to taste the mixture before we pop it in the oven.
Vegan cheese in the making.
Photo: Thomas Gravanis
How creamy do you want your bechamel? Yes.
Photo: Thomas Gravanis
Teamwork makes the cream work
If you've read this before, it's because it's true: many traditional Greek dishes are vegan. Like the fava dip, which one of the participants is now topping with translucent caramelised onions. Or the spanakopita (spinach pie) that a vegan cook-in-training is making with the help of her omnivore friend. As for the famous moussaka with its creamy bechamel, the stakes involved in turning it into a vegan delicacy are high. I watch as Alexandra spoons hot soya mince over the aubergines and potatoes, and then it's time for the final layer of thick bechamel. Later, when we sat down to eat what we had prepared, I couldn't believe that this bechamel was made from cashew nuts.
One team has already kneaded the koulouri dough and left it to rise for a while. They are now cutting it into smaller pieces, twisting them into rings, sprinkling them with sesame seeds and letting them rest again. Meanwhile, another member of the team who has just finished with the spinach pie filling is now forming the pie into a spiral. Next to the moussaka, everything is ready to go into the preheated oven.
But what about dessert? Cornflour and soya milk make an excellent custard for our ekmek. Instead of a kataifi base, we're going for agave-soaked rusks. The wonderful aroma of cinnamon wafts from the small room into the street, enticing passers-by to stop and peek through the open kitchen door to see what's cooking. And before you know it, dessert is ready.
The ekmek was... chef's kiss!
Photo: Thomas Gravanis
The feast is set.
Photo: Thomas Gravanis
Join the feast
Our teamwork does not end with cooking. All together we tidy up the counter, which will now be our table, and set our creations on the table. Alexandra adds the final dish at the centre of the feast, a crispy maroulosalata (lettuce salad with spring onions, a generous dose of dill and a fragrant dressing). The classic provocative question my vegan friends often receive springs to mind: "So what do you eat when meat, eggs and dairy are out of the question? Just greens?". And yet the spread before us is anything but ordinary.
We serve a bit of everything on handmade plates from one of Koukaki's many creative pottery workshops and pass them around. At this point, making plates for each other is more than just savoir faire. We toast with vegan wine—I didn't know that was a thing—to ourselves and the beautiful meal we have prepared. We spend the last hour hanging around the counter, trying everything, chatting and laughing a lot, especially when we find out that the spinach pie team had put salt in it twice.
What’s the verdict?
This rich experience isn't just about swapping ingredients for vegan options; it's a fresh, creative approach to cooking. Even though we worked in smaller teams, the result felt like a team effort. However, I did miss out on some of the processes, such as making fresh vegan cheese, so some pauses during preparation would have been very helpful and would give everyone time to learn and take notes. Overall, the price and portions make the workshop great value for money.