
You want yogurt thick enough to stand on a spoon — cold, garlicky, sharp with vinegar, cucumber wrung so dry it cannot slump the bowl. That first scrape of bread through the oil is half the pleasure. Dill, a last thread of oil, and garlic that announces itself.
It never leaves the mezze table. Greek tzatziki lives by yogurt strained until it is almost cheese; skip that density and the cucumber weeps and you have a sauce, not a dip.
Squeeze the cucumber as if you mean it, then chill the bowl an hour. Serve it cold, with bread for the sides. It belongs beside grilled meat and anything still hissing from the pan.
Method
- 01
Halve the cucumber lengthwise and scrape out the seeds with a spoon — they hold more water than flavor. Grate the flesh on the large holes of a box grater, toss it with a pinch of salt, and leave it in a sieve for 15 minutes. Then squeeze it fiercely in your hands until almost nothing drips. Leftover water will thin the yogurt, and you'll have a slump instead of a dip.
- 02
Now for the garlic, which must announce itself. Lay the cloves on the board, sprinkle with a pinch of salt, and crush them with the flat of your knife, dragging and chopping until you have a sticky paste. The salt helps it break down and keeps it from flying about. You want no little shards of raw garlic waiting to ambush a guest — just a smooth, pungent mash.
- 03
Tip the strained yogurt into a bowl and beat in the garlic paste, the olive oil, and the vinegar until the mixture is smooth and faintly glossy. Fold in the wrung-out cucumber and the chopped dill with a light hand — you want flecks of green, not a purée. Taste it: it should be sharp, garlicky, and thick enough to stand on a spoon. Add salt until it sings.
- 04
Cover the bowl and chill it for at least an hour — the flavors need that cold rest to settle into one another. When you bring it out, it should be properly chilled, almost cheese-thick. Finish with a thread of olive oil over the top, and set bread beside it. That last scrape of the bowl is not optional; it is half the pleasure.


