Tag: Greek

Icarus

maydaygaskarthLeave a comment

Don’t get too close to the sun, for you will fall

Don’t get to close to the water, for you will drown

Instead stay on the ground, just safe and sound.

So he did.

Day by day, he’d waste his life away

Blinded by the sun

Immersed into the waves that crashed against the shores

Don’t get too close to the sun, for you can’t fly

Don’t get too close to the water, for you can’t swim

Instead stay on the ground, where you might win

So he stayed.

He stayed on the ground, safe from the wind.

And life dreaded on

And one day he looked around while everything was safe and sound

He started to drown

Not in the shallow waters

He drowned inside himself, drowning in the pools of regret and sorrow

So he got up, and got out

And he flew far away, but he fell

He got too close to the sun, and he fell

He didn’t fly too close to the sun because he thought he could

He flew because he was told he couldn’t

Photo Credit: RaychulWhatsername Deviantart

International Lunch

Daphne PsaledakisLeave a comment

As I mentioned in my previous post, Baklava, our school put on an international lunch on Sunday. Students from different countries and backgrounds cooked a native dish, and everyone else got to eat it. A guy from Italy made real Italian pasta (and let me tell you, it’s all it’s hyped up to be). A pair of twins from Japan made sukiyaki, someone else made guacamole, salsa, and tacos, and I made baklava.

There was a ton of food, and it was really really good. It was really cool to be able to taste the different foods from different countries, as made by people who actually lived there (even though I never have lived in Greece). The food wasn’t from a restaurant. It was made by someone who lived there, ate it regularly, and knew how to cook it.

It was delicious.

Especially the homemade by a real Italian pasta.

Although the turnout wasn’t as much as was expected, those of us who were there had a lot of fun and really enjoyed the food. In my mind, it was a success, and hopefully we do it again soon.

Greek Food

Daphne Psaledakis2 Comments

I am part Greek, and I have grown up knowing that hummus, pita, tzatziki, and spanakopita are only a small portion of a wide array of Greek food, and that they are all delicious. Strangely enough, most of my friends don’t seem to know what Greek food actually is.

I even had a friend argue with me that hummus was in fact Jewish.

So for those of you who don’t know, Greek food is absolutely delicious. The appetizers, which could arguably be the best part, are amazing. Spanakopita, one of  the most famous ones, consists of fill dough wrapped around spinach and feta cheese. Similarly, and if not even better, tiropita is spanakopita without the spinach. My family has been eating dolmades since we were real little, which are stuffed grape leaves. Often they are stuffed with a rice of sorts, but sometimes a bit of ground lamb is added in as well.

And then, of course, there is the famous pita bread and dips. You can’t go wrong with pita bread, especially when it is fresh out of the oven and perfectly seasoned. But when you dip it in hummus, or tzatziki, yogurt mixed with cucumber, garlic, and other herbs, the pita becomes even more heavenly.

As for the entrees, the Greeks cook with a lot of seafood, octopus in particular, and lamb. My favorite dish is lamb souvlaki, skewers of lamb often accompanied by potatoes or vegetables. Contrary to the more American way of cooking lamb, which tastes rather gamey, the Greeks smother the tender meat in lemon and garlic, making it irresistibly delicious.

And then the desserts. Baklava is my favorite. It’s wonderfully messy, and is made of chopped nuts wrapped in fill dough, and coated in either honey or syrup. Another all time favorite are kourabiedes, which are similar to what we most often know as mexican wedding cookies. They are butter cookies with walnuts in them, and disguised by a generous coating of powdered sugar.

Caution: when eating, do not inhale.

Greek food is possibly one of the most hidden and underrated forms of cooking in America. I have decided to drag my friends to try Greek food, and I encourage you to find a local Greek restaurant near you and give it a try. It’s definitely worth it, and I can promise you won’t leave without feeling like you need to unbutton the top button of your pants, it’s that good.

Satara

kirbyfullyloadedLeave a comment

I walked into the room, bare of furniture save a polished teak table with a single crystal wine decanter sitting directly in the center.

Sparkling idly in the half-light, the decanter was shaped like an elongated pear; its tapered neck leading down to a rounded belly filled with dark red liquid. Only about a third full, even the color of the wine bled expensive taste, promising heavenly flavor.

The crystal etchings were sharp and severe, each ridge and curve flowing into the next in a symphony of crystalline delicacy. Looking like a frozen sea, the etchings were arranged in a snowflake shape that started at the heart of the decanter and stretched up and out, the tendrils of fineness touching every inch of its gleaming surface.

Reaching out, I touched it with one finger.  The glass was cool and smooth against my skin, the swirling designs felt hard and deliberate.  I gently flicked the decanter.

A lonely warbling note rang out, piercing the air with its high and tremulous sounds.  Stillness filled the room as the peal faded away, captured purity in its essence.  

Ripples appeared in the wine, slight disturbances skittering lightly across the surface of the red liquid.  I watched, transfixed by the sudden flurry.  

The door opened.  A young woman walked in, her face shadowed as she approached the table.  As she came into the light, I was struck by her beauty.  

Tall and slender, she stood with the controlled grace of a ballerina; her long legs and thin ankles were crossed attractively , one in front of the other. Clear, soft skin, the color of magnolia blossoms, glowed with a creamy light.  Golden hair like gleaming flax hung straight down her back in thick, shiny sheets, setting off the alabaster skin to perfection.  Black lashes cast shadow crescents on high cheekbones accentuating the hot pink flush.  Cupid’s bow lips were set in a tight hard line, emphasizing their rosy red color.  

Her eyes were chilling.  Startling amethystine violet, they were fierce and fiery.  Savage brightness illuminated their deep purple depths.  Laced with stormy silver tendrils they were luminescent and vehement, only enhancing her sultry radiance.  

She looked nothing like the girl I loved.

“Satara,” I said with a confidence I did not feel, “you’re back.”

She stepped forward, a murderous gleam in those gemstone eyes.  “Yes, Jason,” she snarled, spitting my name like a curse, “I’ve returned.  But only to deliver a message.”

“Oh?  And what’s that?”

She wrapped her slim fingers around the neck of the decanter and squeezed as if she could break the crystal.  Looking back up into my eyes she continued to strangle it.  

I was entranced by the color of those eyes, unable to look away.

“My sister is dead.”

“What?”

A roar louder than all the waves in the ocean filled my ears and filled my head with searing heat.  Blood began to fill my eyes and the redness tinged my vision.

Satara screamed and threw the decanter, it shattered inches from me, spattering my clothes and leaving bloody crimson stains.  

“She’s dead, Greek,” she shrieked, “Sahar is dead!”