The first Sunday diaries part 9

Then came my first Sunday.

      Sunday is a big family day out for the Greek families and the lake is one of their favourite destinations. The taverna was packed. No time today for admiring the view and watching the ducks on the water. It was a fine day and most people were sitting outside. The tables were all full and we were stretched to breaking point. The family was rushing around trying to cope with the influx of customers. An elderly auntie named Poppy (Penelope) came down from her nearby home, arriving on her donkey which she tethered behind the taverna. I discovered later that she came every Sunday, swathing herself in various pinafores and plastic table covers before helping in the kitchen; I was mostly working with her in those first days and she taught me how to make a proper Greek salad and sprinkle it with a little ice-cold water to help to bring out the flavour, and how to make ‘koukouvyia’ which the local people loved. This was made by dampening paximadi, the hard rusks of the region, under the tap and then serving them piled with chopped tomato and feta or soft mizithra cheese, finally pouring olive oil over the whole and sprinkling it with oregano. (You may know this by its other name of Dakos) Some tourists while looking at their Greek phraseboks discovered that Koukouvayia translates as owl. No we did not have cooked owl on the menu!

Yianni was also with us to help out as he did every weekend. He was somewhat lazy and did as little as he could get away with, preferring to chat up the pretty girls. We had no time to stop for a break until the evening when all sat down together and ate a family meal.

I soon learned to cook ‘Sfakianopites’ a specialty of the area. This is like a small pancake stuffed with mizithra, fried without fat and then drizzled with honey. The Greek families would order eight or ten at a time.

We also served many litres of Michalis’ own house wine, filling carafe after carafe for our thirsty guests.

In the evening I was exhausted but fortunately at this time of the year there was not much business in the evenings.

“Just wait until August,” said Chrysoula as she rubbed her aching feet. “All the Greeks are here from Athens and they sit till late at night. It’s a crazy time.”

The family gathered together around the log fire which Michalis lit as it was still quite cool at night. The television was switched on, but due to the surrounding mountain it received only one channel and that badly. The girls however had rented some video cassettes from the shop in Vrysses and settled down to watch. These turned out to be romantic Turkish films dubbed into Greek and were not to my taste, but they enjoyed them. “Next time come with us and you can choose a video too,” Eugenia offered.

    I must admit that I was curious to see what types of films were available here and I suspected that my taste was very different than theirs. In fact, when I did go, I found quite a variety and introduced the family to the film ‘Blazing saddles’. When the film reached the ‘baked bean’ scene everyone laughed so much that Yianni dropped a full glass of ‘frappe’, cold coffee, on the floor. The scene was replayed over and over; every time a friend arrived they had to see it.

I fell into bed tired out but relieved. The family seemed pleasant enough and they were going out of their way to make me feel a friend rather than a stranger. It was still a little odd having no-one to have a proper chat with, but I supposed that I would get used to it in time and get to know the regular customers..

Some clips from "Blazing Saddles" - in case you do not know the film!