You fry a slab of graviera until the edges blister and the interior just begins to slump, then you squeeze lemon over it while it still hisses. That is the whole argument: cheese, fire, lemon, bread. It arrives at the table and it waits for no one.
The name is the pan — a small two-handled skillet, sagani, from which you serve it. Graviera or kefalotyri, both firm enough to hold a crust. The quieter taverna version is the one you want.
Pat the cheese dry or the flour will not stick. Fry it in a pan that can take heat, and bring it out at once. Pepper, lemon, bread. Eat it while the crust still crackles.
Method
- 01
Pat the cheese slabs thoroughly dry with a towel — if they're damp, the flour will not stick, and without flour you will not get a crust. Press each slab into the flour so both faces are evenly coated, then shake off the excess. You want a thin, even dusting, not a breaded cutlet. Set them ready by the stove; from here on, things move quickly.
- 02
Heat the oil in a small heavy skillet — a saganaki pan if you have one, with its two little handles, or any skillet that can take a fierce heat. Wait until the oil shimmers and a pinch of flour sizzles on contact. If the oil is not hot enough, the cheese will sit and weep instead of seizing a crust. Don't walk away; this is a two-minute affair.
- 03
Slide in the cheese and fry it 2 to 3 minutes a side, watching for a deep golden crust, blistered at the edges, while the interior just begins to slump — that faint softening is the moment, so do not wander off. If you overcook it, the cheese will pool into a greasy puddle; if you undercook it, you have only warm cheese. Trust your eyes and the smell of toasting dairy.
- 04
Slide the cheese onto a warm plate — a cold plate will seize it. Grind black pepper over the top and bring it to the table at once, with lemon wedges. Squeeze the lemon at the table so the juice hits the crust while it still hisses. It waits for no one, and that is the whole charm of it — bread, of course, for whatever is left on the plate.
