Let me start by saying everyone is okay. Thank God. Every parent will know that dread when their kids get their driver’s license that someday they may get that phone call filled with the shaken voice. The one that says, “Mom, I’m so sorry, but I’ve had an accident.”
Turkeys are some pretty big birds. Roast one, and you’ve got yourself enough turkey to last until you start gobbling. Or maybe crying. Yep, probably crying. Don’t despair, help is here in the form of a modern twist on an old recipe.
Breakfast in Greece can be a very rustic meal wih cheese pies, olives and feta, and crusty bread with honey or marmalade, to fare more familiar to the American palette like scrambled eggs and omelets. Whatever it is, it will be tasty and reflective of what is available from the local area. This includes a variety of grains that can be cooked up and served as a wholesome hot cereal.
Over the river and through the woods to grandfather’s house, we go. Actually it was grandfather’s cabin in the nearby foothills on a parcel of land the Old Man’s parents purchased several decades ago. The family built the rough cabin by hand and visited on occasion when the Old Man and his siblings were growing up.
One of the few good things about living in a place with ridiculously hot summers is that the growing season for summer vegetables lasts a good, long time. The latest I ever pulled eggplant from the garden or tomatoes off the vine was a couple of days before Thanksgiving. The plants may not be in full production mode this late in the year, but there’s still enough to do something with.
I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted to go. In fact, I didn’t even make up my mind until that morning and I was still convincing myself as I was telling the Old Man we needed to get ready.
In the Eastern Orthodox faith, days that commemorate a particular saint, holy event, or the angels are called feast days. Is it called a feast day because there is a feast? No. Can food be part of the equation? Yes.