My Name is Iosifina...

Olive Harvest 2011 - Vatopedi, Halkidiki, Greece

noreply@blogger.com (My Name is Iosifina) — Mon, 05 Dec 2011 15:45:00 +0000

September 20, 2011

The olive pickers are here. Sounds are amplified on the hill where we live amidst quiet olive tree heaven, so early one morning last week we heard a large truck rattling up a nearby dirt road, and then the voices began wafting over the tops of the trees. The men’s voices weren’t speaking Greek, most likely Albanian or Bulgarian. Since it is mid-September, the early green eating-olives are being picked. Later, the oil-producing olives will be picked, and even later in November the black eating-olives will be picked. The longer you leave olives on the tree, the darker they get and the more oil is produced. Our neighbor told us that some very large trucks arrive from Florence, Italy each year to buy the large Halkidiki olive (the largest in Greece), they pay well, and then they drive back to Igoumenitsa via the Egnatia highway where they board the ferry back to Italy.

The pickers earn about 2.50-3 euros per crate of olives they pick in our region, and the farmer earns just 80-90 euro cents per kilo, yet to buy processed olives in the super markets here can cost between 6 and 8 euros per kilo. An acquaintance in the village told us that all talk now in the kafeneion revolves around olives: how much the olive industry agents are paying, what insecticides didn’t work this year, whose dakos (a worm that enters the olive and makes the pressed oil taste bitter) damage was the greatest, how the Greek economy has hurt the olive growers. Some call it men’s gossip, but the men consider it “sharing information.”

September 25, 2011

I was hanging out my laundry on the clothesline this morning and heard and saw Vassilis’ olive pickers at work. Amidst their laughter and chatter, I heard the sound of olives hitting the baskets. He hires 8-10 pickers and tries to hire a mix of Albanian and Bulgarian pickers; they don’t speak each other’s language and they keep an eye out for theft. Each picker gets 2.50 euros per basket they pick. That many pickers can gather in up to 75 baskets per day. Each basket weighs about 25 kilos or 55 lbs. Vassilis estimates it will take 5-6 days to pick all of his eating-type of olives. This year the olive agents are paying the producers about 80-90 euro cents per kilo. (Kroger has Halkidikis olives in their olive bar: $9.99/lb.) And each agent or olive press pays the same amount. One of Vassilis’ sons said, “san cartel like a cartel.”

Yesterday morning we stopped by Vassilis and Asimenia’s house in the village to see how they were sorting their olives. We jumped in and offered to help them. It was so much fun, we later returned at 5pm and did another 2 hr stent! The olives are dumped into a bin that shoots them out and down a conveyer belt that is wired to allow certain sizes to go in one bin and others to go in another. Three people were spotting them at the beginning to pick out those olives that had been bitten by the hated dakos, an olive-loving worm that often resists all the pesticides that are sprayed on the olives all summer long. And another person (me!) spots them again as they fall into the baskets.

These dakos are very clever as their entry point is just pin prick size, but they go all the way to the pit to eat the olive’s goodness. If the dakos travels with the olive to the olive press, the resulting oil can be bitter. A few are ok, but none is better! It took us about 2 hours to sort through 25 baskets. As soon as they’re filled, they stack them in the back of a truck and drive to the olive press which buys eating-olives and presses olives for oil later in the season.

September 30, 2011

Today Yianni’s sister Dimitra, our nephew Nikos, and his friend Kostas came out to pick as many eating olives as they wanted before we pick them for oil pressing. We had a lovely day as Yianni grilled chicken and pork chops while they picked.

October 5, 2011

My olives are bigger than your olives.

We just returned from witnessing the pressing of our own olive oil: agourelaio or olive oil from unripened olives, supposedly the healthiest olive oil. Our friend Aristotelis who lives in the Peloponnesus, southern Greece, says their elaiotrivio (olive press) doesn’t even open until the end of October because most people wait until their olives are ripened in order to get the most oil from them. In about two hours, we went from 6 huge 50 lb. bags of olives to almost 2 denikedes or about 22 kilos of olive oil from about 7 mature trees. Twenty two of our forty two trees are very young and some trees were bare (just not their year). Our helper Fatmir used his hands and a special “comb” to bring down the olives onto a tarp. The olives were then put into crates or into special olive bags which we loaded in the car and drove about 24 km to a village called Portaria outside Nea Moudania and Elaiotriveio Savvas run by his widow Eleni, a very nice lady who told us she had cousins in Michigan and Arizona. When she asked our last name for her records, she looked at us, waved her hand, and said “Amerikan.” The olives were emptied into a bin. Along the way, leaves were blown outside through a chute. The olives were then carried up to a washing area and ground into a lovely aromatic mush. After that, we didn’t see them; they were processed with water and the separation then occurred.

Olive leaves are blown away through a chute outside.

An electric, almost neon colored chartreuse oil was the result.

As we were waiting for the oil to appear, another customer lady (she was the “baker”) standing nearby ran her finger through the stream of oil (belonging to another customer) and licked her finger. I was hoping she wasn’t standing there when our oil came through! It took about 2 hours from start to finish with two customers ahead of us. You could bring your own containers to carry your oil home or buy new denikedes (cans) for about 2 euros each. Each denike holds about 15 liters of oil. To make oil from our olives, the press charged us 13% of our production (22 kilos) or 3.90 euros x 2.86 kilos= 11.15 euros. Quite a deal!

Olives are washed.

The "Amerikan's" mush next to the "Baker's" mush.

Olive mush

Final product: This neon green will return to a clear olive color after it settles.

Pomegranate Juice Becomes Ruby Liqueur

noreply@blogger.com (My Name is Iosifina) — Sat, 08 Oct 2011 11:34:00 +0000

Today Yianni and I removed the seeds from about 8 pomegranates our neighbor gave us. His trees had a problem with most of the pomegranates splitting open, so he gathered all of them.

Last evening at a gathering at his house, we talked about different ways we could use the juice. The Swiss doctor (he's Greek but lives in Switzerland, so he's the Swiss doctor just as Yianni is Greek but lived in the US, so he's the Amerikanos) said that he mixed half pomegranate juice and half Greek Metaxa brandy into bottles and served as a liqueur. My friend Sherry's recipe from her son's girlfriend Marina is this: Add 1/2 liter juice to 3 cups sugar and a cinnamon stick in a large bottle. Place in the sun for 20-40 days. Then add half as much vodka to the juice mixture. Ready to serve!

After we removed the seeds, I used my upright mixer and pulverized seeds. I then used some netting leftover from wedding boubounieres to strain the juice from the pulp into a large casserole pot. If you don't have such a mixer, cut the pomegranate in half and squeeze it as you would a lemon or orange half. I made enough to make two bottles of ruby liqueur--Yianni just put them on the gazebo's roof to absorb the Greek sun. Let's see what 20 days will bring us!

Kalimera!

noreply@blogger.com (My Name is Iosifina) — Wed, 28 Sep 2011 07:04:00 +0000

Kalimera = Good morning!

Agapi = Love

Eftihia einai mia apofasi = Happiness is a decision

Glorious Figs!

noreply@blogger.com (My Name is Iosifina) — Fri, 23 Sep 2011 15:27:00 +0000

....Kadota, Everbearing, Brown Turkey, Nero....Flanders, Black Mission, Pingo del Mel, Lee's Perpetual....and the names continue for that lovely fruit, the fig. Our trees and our neighbor's laden branches hanging over our fence are producing lovely figs this year. Although I don't know the specific name of these Greek fig trees, I researched and discovered a myriad of fig names fit for a long poem. Instead of writing a poem, I gathered some fig leaves and used them as stamps on a white canvas. I then wrote every name for figs I'd discovered on the canvas to remind me of figs in Halkidiki.

I won a blog writing contest!

noreply@blogger.com (My Name is Iosifina) — Sun, 18 Sep 2011 06:46:00 +0000

I just discovered that I won the 2011 Knoxville Writers' Guild contest for blog writing! I am amazed and very thankful that others considered me. My entries were Pantzaria (January 7, 2008) and Cherry Liqueur (November 10, 2008).

Who can resist nice, smooth rocks?

noreply@blogger.com (My Name is Iosifina) — Fri, 16 Sep 2011 14:55:00 +0000

Yianni and I went swimming yesterday, and the beach was all ours. If you want to visit Greece, plan it in September. The tourists have gone home, and Greek children began school on Sept. 12. I couldn't believe how empty and lovely it was. I began picking up the roundest, smoothest, flattest rocks lapping in the waves and came home with a bounty all lined up on one of our low walls. I chose six and went to my "studio" upstairs. Since olive trees surround our house, I've grown to love their delicate leaves, warped trunks, and the future oil and edible olives that await us this fall. And I needed something to hold down the tablecloth and napkins from flying away when we eat outside!

Quick Gazpacho!

noreply@blogger.com (My Name is Iosifina) — Mon, 05 Sep 2011 09:59:00 +0000

We love horiatiki salata, a Greek salad of tomatoes, cucumbers, onions, bell peppers, and feta cheese with a splash of olive oil and red wine vinegar. It's a daily staple in our life here. However, my husband recently had dental surgery and needed to eat smooth foods for a while. Solution: with my handy Bosch stick mixer, I added the horiatiki salata to the container and brrrrrrrrrr, instant gazpacho soup!

Make your own melitzana salata (mehl-ee-TZAHNA sahl A tah)

noreply@blogger.com (My Name is Iosifina) — Mon, 22 Aug 2011 06:54:00 +0000

I found beautiful eggplants or melitzanes at the market the other day and decided to make my own Melitzana Salata. In other cultures, it's called baba gahnoosh. While you're grilling hamburgers or chicken this weekend, throw 3 eggplants on the grill. Prick each one a few times with a fork. Turn often until they're very soft. It's ok if they get burned a bit on the outside.

When cool enough to handle, scoop out the inside pulp and add:

2 TBL freshed chopped parsley

1/4 c. olive oil

3 cloves of minced garlic

a squirt of lemon juice so the eggplant pulp doesn't darken

salt to taste

Stir vigorously Chill and you've got a wonderful eggplant dip to go with anything you take off the grill. And if you can say Melitzana Salata to your guests, they will be impressed!

Apricot Jam is soooooo Easy!

noreply@blogger.com (My Name is Iosifina) — Thu, 23 Jun 2011 06:16:00 +0000

Gather up a large bowl of apricots, even those that have fallen and have a bruise or two. You are a forgiving person. Brush off the gnats, ants, and flies who have gathered at their feast, wash the apricots, remove pits and cut each apricot into fourths. To 8 cups of fruit, add 6 cups of sugar, juice of half a lemon, and if you have a left over apple, grate it into the pot (for pectin). You will see that the sugar and juice marry into a soon-bubbling aromatic elixir. Continue boiling and stirring for about 30 minutes. Skim off the foam and discard. To test this jam, spoon a bit on a flat plate, smooth it around to cool and see if it's thick enough. When you think it is done, pour into jars, tighten the lids and turn them upside down to cool.

Make your own "Greek" yogurt!

noreply@blogger.com (My Name is Iosifina) — Thu, 10 Mar 2011 14:21:00 +0000

Greek yogurt has recently become the superstar in TV ads, and now you see several brands of Greek yogurt in the grocery stores. Make your own Greek yogurt!

Empty a carton of plain yogurt (avoid those yogurts that contain corn starch and other thickeners--get real yogurt!) into a glass bowl. Place several layers of paper towels on top and put in the refrigerator. In a couple of hours, remove those towels and replace with more paper towels. In a couple of hours, remove the paper towels and you will have lovely thickened yogurt!

When We Were Strangers

noreply@blogger.com (My Name is Iosifina) — Tue, 25 Jan 2011 16:50:00 +0000

My friend Pamela Schoenewaldt has written a wonderful novel, When We Were Strangers, arriving on book shelves January 25, 2011. I've always been attracted to stories about immigrants (I was a "foreigner" for 8 years of my adult life--4 in Greece and 4 in Switzerland) and how they adapt to a new culture. This story feeds my interest and more. Although the novel is about an Italian, there is also a Greek involved. My husband Yianni and I were happy to answer questions about Greek life whenever Pamela asked, so I've seen this novel evolve and flower.

“If you leave Opi, you’ll die with strangers,” Irma Vitale’s mother always warned. But Irma is too poor and too plain to marry and can’t find honest work in her tiny mountain village in Southern Italy. Barely twenty, she must leave home bearing only native wit and astonishing skill with a needle. Risking rough passage across the Atlantic, a single woman in a strange land, Irma seeks a new life sewing dresses for gentlewomen.
Swept up in the crowded streets of nineteenth-century America, Irma finds workshop servitude and miserable wages, but also seeds of friendship in the raw immigrant quarters. When her determination leads at last to Chicago, Irma blossoms under the hand of an austere Alsatian dressmaker, sewing fabrics and patterns more beautiful than she’d ever imagined. Then this tenuous peace is shattered. From the rubble, confronting human cruelty and kindness, suffering and hope, a new Irma emerges, nurturing a talent she’d never imagined and an unlikely family, patched together by the common threads that unite us all."
(Taken from http://pamelaschoenewaldt.com/)

Reviews:
When We Were Strangers is a Spring 2011 Selection for the Barnes & Noble Discover Great New Writers Program, a Book-of-the-Month Club and Doubleday Book Club alternate selection for January, 2011.

“Schoenewaldt’s heartbreaking debut is the late 19th century immigrant coming-of-age story of poor, plain Irma Vitale…Irma’s adventures and redeeming evolution make this a serious book club contender.” — Publishers Weekly

“Lucid, unembellished prose that draws your attention to what’s important…When We Were Strangers transports you convincingly into Irma Vitale’s life as she journeys toward self-discovery, toward a place to belong, toward love.” — Michael Knight, author of The Typist

“I was caught up in this compelling tale from page one. In vivid and inventive prose Pamela Schoenewaldt spins out the story of immigrant Irma Vitale’s odyssey from her tiny Italian village to the jostling crowds of urban America in the l880s–a heroine of courage and grit in a time of tumultuous change and opportunity. I was eager to follow every twist and turn. As a reader and frequent reviewer I long for this kind of lovely prose. A cut above.” — Carolly Erickson, author of The Hidden Diary of Marie Antoinette

“Readable and engaging…The language is deceptively simple, the people as real as your own family, and the tale realistic enough to be any American’s …This is a story that is not finished simply because the reader has reached the last page–a memorable novel.” — Nancy E. Turner, author of These is My Words

Read more reviews at http://pamelaschoenewaldt.com/

Irena's Corn Chowder

noreply@blogger.com (My Name is Iosifina) — Sat, 22 Jan 2011 16:17:00 +0000

I have fond memories of my mother Irena's corn chowder, the ultimate comfort food on a cold day. Although I grew up in Roswell, New Mexico and there were few cold days, when you ate this corn chowder, you dreamed of a cold day! My mother grew up during the Depression and WWII in rural Ohio so she learned many recipes using Spam, such as her Mexican spaghetti which I will share....another day!

1 chopped onion
1 can of Spam (or leftover ham) cubed
1 can of creamed corn
1 can of kernel corn, drained
3-4 potatoes peeled and cubed
2 c. milk
water
paprika

Saute the Spam (ham) sprinkled generously with paprika. Add onions and continue to saute until onions are translucent. Add the corn and potatoes. Add about 2 c. of water to cover. Bring to boil and simmer until the potatoes are tender. Add the milk and continue simmering until the smell in your house overpowers you to do something about it--eat your corn chowder. You deserve it!

noreply@blogger.com (My Name is Iosifina) — Wed, 05 Jan 2011 20:28:00 +0000

(2005) Taken from the peninsula Sithonia looking
across to the peninsula Kassandra, Halkidiki in
northern Greece. The pelican's name is Yiorgos.

Find more artists like Kalia at Myspace Music

Your Kerchief, Yianni (Epirus)

Your kerchief, Yianni, dearest love, why is it soiled and dirty?
--Come, Yanno, come, Yiannaki dear, come now my handsome fellow.

It was soiled while I was far from home, in distant lonely places.
O Mother dear, they stole my heart, they stole my heart quite away.
Five rivers tried to wash it clean, all five took on its color.

--Come, Yanno, come, Yiannaki dear.
And they in turn did dye the sea and all the ships that sailed it.
--Come, Yanno, come, Yiannaki dear, come now my handsome fellow.

This is a fine example of songs about living in foreign lands, i.e. xenetia. Every one of these laments will break your heart.

Treasured Greek Home Remedies

noreply@blogger.com (My Name is Iosifina) — Mon, 06 Dec 2010 16:39:00 +0000

My mother-in-law Vera passed along to me some valuable home remedies that really work when you don't have access to store-bought medicines.

Upset tummy: Swallow a few olive pits (have someone else eat the olive, rinse the pits, and swallow). My mother-in-law gave them to her four children when they complained of an upset stomach. My friend Pamela Schoenewaldt used this remedy in her soon-to-be-published novel When We Were Strangers (HarperCollins, 2011). In a critical scene in her novel, the protagonist Irma is sick with typhoid. Her love Niko takes care of her and outrages Irma's Irish friend by having the delirious Irma eat olive pits, and...Irma gets better!

Fever: When I was 6 months-pregnant with Antigone, I came down with the flu. My mother-in-law peeled and sliced a potato into 3 round slices about 1/2" thick. She placed them onto my father-in-law's diagonally folded handkerchief and tied the handkerchief (with the 3 potato slices next to my forehead) around my head. The potato slices remained cool, unlike wet washcloths that quickly heat up), and Mama said the potato "drew" out the fever.

Nausea: Burn a piece of toast! Scrape off the burned black crumbs into a glass of water (about 1/4 cup or less). Drink. I know this works because when I had flu another time, I could not keep even chamomile tea down.

Headache: If you are unable to take aspirin or other pain relievers for a headache, try this. Again, lay out a man's handkerchief diagonally folded. Place cotton batting on the middle portion of the handkerchief and douse the cotton generously with rubbing alcohol. Sprinkle black pepper on top of the cotton, too. Place the cotton batting-alcohol-pepper side at the base of your head in the back and tie the handkerchief in front. Soon the cool/hot will provide relief from your headache.

Diarrhea: Squeeze the juice of one lemon into a small glass. Add one teaspoon of instant coffee. Drink. Believe me it works as well as it tastes bad!

Universal Cure-All: Brew a cup of chamomile tea for all of the following.

a newborn baby's thrush,
a cut or abrasion (antiseptic),
hair rinse for blondes,
feminine douche,
sleep-aid for the elderly and newborns,
calm the nerves,
colds, flu, upset tummies.

I published "Chamomile: A tea of choice for gods and newborn babies" in the Knoxville Writers' Guild's, Literary Lunch: Food Anthology of Poetry, Essays, Shorts Stories & Memoirs (2002):

Having grown up in Roswell, New Mexico before "new age" teas of every herb became common, I knew only the standard black tea that my elderly disabled neighbor across the street made me in her fancy pink and gold cup after I vacuumed her house. I was twelve years old. Mrs. Bickford served it to me with a little pitcher of milk and some sugar cubes on the side and told me how to hold my pinkie finger when I lifted the cup. I thought she and the tea in such a fancy cup were the height of sophistication. But I grew up and found other teas.

The best tea came from a Greek god. A couple of months after meeting this god, I came down with an intestinal flu. I was a freshman in college a thousand miles from home and sick on my own for the first time. My roommate called my god, and told him I was sick. He told her to stand by the side door of our all-female dormitory, and he would meet her in ten minutes. She soon came to my side with a thermos of hot chamomile tea and a bag of yellow lemons. Chamomile to soothe my tummy, and a lemon to suck on after my nausea attacks. The lesson to my daughters will remain: don’t marry him until he brings you lemons and chamomile. Then you’ll know he’s the right one.

After our move to Greece to live happily ever after, I discovered more about chamomile tea. This small plant with tiny daisy-like flowers grows in a dry sandy soil. On our walks in the countryside with my mother-in-law, we often picked chamomile to take home. She placed the flowers between her cupped fingers and pulled off only the flower heads. She spread them out on a white sheet and placed them on a sunny tin roof to dry. After drying, we put them in a white cloth bag with a draw string. Before zipper-lock plastic bags, women made cloth bags from worn sheets or pillow cases to store herbs. To make the tea, she placed two large tablespoons of the dried chamomile flower heads in a little wire strainer and poured boiling water over the flowers, letting the strainer sit in the water a bit. A fragrant dark yellow brew emerged.

I soon became a true-believer in chamomile as a universal healer, soother of tummies, wounds, and bruised souls. When our second daughter, Antigone, was born in Athens, Greece at Elenas Hospital, the midwives-in-training gave her sugared chamomile tea between breast feedings. Chamomile is given to newborn and colicky babies as a calming addition to mother’s milk. Shortly after she and I returned home, Antigone developed thrush. My pediatrician told me to make a strong chamomile tea and, with a clean gauze pad, wipe out her mouth after each breast feeding. The thrush soon disappeared.

A Greek friend of mine used chamomile as a feminine douche. Another friend rinsed her natural blonde hair in chamomile after every shampoo to enhance the blonde highlights. When my son Niko was a toddler, he fell on the corner of our coffee table cutting a slash clear through his ear lobe. Fearing a permanent scar, I took him immediately to our pediatrician. Instead of a stitch, he told me to make a strong chamomile tea and bathe his ear lobe with the dark yellow liquid 3-4 times a day. Healing occurred with no scar. Chamomile doesn’t sting like alcohol, iodine, mercurochrome, or hydrogen peroxide when touching sensitive cuts and scrapes. Alexia fell on her bike scraping the underside of her arm--quick, make some chamomile tea. Vera fell on the gravel and punctured her knee--out came the chamomile tea. When we feel a cold or flu approaching, we brew a cup of chamomile. The amber elixir soothes nerves at the end of a hectic day and serves as a natural sedative, much like warm milk before bed time.

I cannot find chamomile growing in East Tennessee, and the white cloth bags my mother-in-law gave me are lying empty and folded in my kitchen drawer. But in our kitchen we always keep boxes of store-bought chamomile tea bags-- and fresh lemons.

Stay healthy in 2011, my friends, and always keep some chamomile tea in your kitchen cabinet! More about lemons in another post.

Orange Coffee Liqueur

noreply@blogger.com (My Name is Iosifina) — Wed, 24 Nov 2010 13:30:00 +0000

It's past time to begin your holiday easy orange coffee liqueur. This recipe is the traditional European "44."

Wash and dry a juicy orange. Slice almost to the center of the orange about 4-5 times.
Push in 44 coffee beans into the slits.
Place the coffee beaned orange into a quart size jar.
Add 44 sugar cubes or 12 tablespoons of sugar.
Cover with 1 quart vodka.
Put on the lid and turn upside down a few times to dissolve the sugar.
Store for 44 days (see why we're late making this?) in a cool dark place.
When done, strain through a paper coffee filter into a decanter or pretty bottle. Discard the orange and coffee beans.

See my other recipe for making cherry and pomegranate liqueurs (2008)!

Vrehi sta Vrastama (It's raining in Vrastama)

noreply@blogger.com (My Name is Iosifina) — Sun, 14 Nov 2010 15:36:00 +0000

I am working on a poem about an experience we had last summer. From our veranda at night, we can see flickering lights far away in the mountains. When I asked a neighbor the name of that village, she says, "Oh, it's just Vrastama." I wanted to go see "just Vrastama," so one hot day we began driving in that direction. Up through a curving road through millions of olive trees as far as one could see, in about 30 minutes we approached the village of Vrastama and parked our car. We began walking towards the center, the plateia, of the village and found a shaded cafe under a huge sycamore tree. Grateful for the respite, we ordered our kafedakia to catch a breeze. Along came an old man who stopped by our table and looked hard at us. He asked us where we were from. Not many xenoi foreigners pass through Vrastama.

Even though my husband is Greek, there must be some aroma of foreign-ness about him and me (American tourists are rare in Halkidiki, so I am often mistaken as a German). We told him we live in America, and he began to tell us his story about his daughter. Tears often overtook his lament about his daughter's paralysis and lifelong stay in bed helpless except for his and his wife's assistance. How do you escape such a sad tale when all you want is to rest and drink your coffee. My husband knew all the right words for this poor man to try to comfort him and give him hope. Pretty soon, I felt choked up and teary, too. Vrehi sta Vrastama is a true story.

Beautiful Cakes

noreply@blogger.com (My Name is Iosifina) — Fri, 29 Oct 2010 19:28:00 +0000

Magpies is a wonderful cake and cupcake bakery in Knoxville TN. Located on 846 N. Central Ave., this bakery makes beautiful cakes and cupcakes for every occasion. Their motto is: All buttah, all the time!

Our daughter gave us these cakes recently. Bravo Magpies!

http://www.magpiescakes.com/

Ithaka by C.P. Cavafy

noreply@blogger.com (My Name is Iosifina) — Sun, 24 Jan 2010 22:17:00 +0000

As you set out for Ithaka

hope the voyage is a long one,

full of adventure, full of discovery.

Laistrygonians and Cyclops,

angry Poseidon—don’t be afraid of them:

you’ll never find things like that on your way

as long as you keep your thoughts raised high,

as long as a rare excitement

stirs your spirit and your body.

Laistrygonians and Cyclops,

wild Poseidon—you won’t encounter them

unless you bring them along inside your soul,
unless your soul sets them up in front of you.

Hope the voyage is a long one.

May there be many a summer morning when,

with what pleasure, what joy,
you come into harbors seen for the first time;
may you stop at Phoenician trading stations

to buy fine things,

mother of pearl and coral, amber and ebony,

sensual perfume of every kind—

as many sensual perfumes as you can;
and may you visit many Egyptian cities
to gather stores of knowledge from their scholars.

Keep Ithaka always in your mind.

Arriving there is what you are destined for.

But do not hurry the journey at all.

Better if it lasts for years,

so you are old by the time you reach the island,

wealthy with all you have gained on the way,

not expecting Ithaka to make you rich.
Ithaka gave you the marvelous journey.
Without her you would not have set out.
She has nothing left to give you now.

And if you find her poor, Ithaka won’t have fooled you
Wise as you will have become, so full of experience,

you will have understood by then what these Ithakas mean.

Translated by Edmund Keeley/Philip Sherrard
(C.P. Cavafy, Collected Poems. Translated by Edmund Keeley and Philip Sherrard. Edited by George Savidis. Revised Edition. Princeton University Press, 1992)

The original text:
Σα βγεις στον πηγαιμό για την Ιθάκη,
να εύχεσαι νάναι μακρύς ο δρόμος,
γεμάτος περιπέτειες, γεμάτος γνώσεις.
Τους Λαιστρυγόνας και τους Κύκλωπας,
τον θυμωμένο Ποσειδώνα μη φοβάσαι,
τέτοια στον δρόμο σου ποτέ σου δεν θα βρεις,
αν μέν’ η σκέψις σου υψηλή, αν εκλεκτή
συγκίνησις το πνεύμα και το σώμα σου αγγίζει.
Τους Λαιστρυγόνας και τους Κύκλωπας,
τον άγριο Ποσειδώνα δεν θα συναντήσεις,
αν δεν τους κουβανείς μες στην ψυχή σου,
αν η ψυχή σου δεν τους στήνει εμπρός σου.

Να εύχεσαι νάναι μακρύς ο δρόμος.
Πολλά τα καλοκαιρινά πρωιά να είναι
που με τι ευχαρίστησι, με τι χαρά
θα μπαίνεις σε λιμένας πρωτοειδωμένους·
να σταματήσεις σ’ εμπορεία Φοινικικά,
και τες καλές πραγμάτειες ν’ αποκτήσεις,
σεντέφια και κοράλλια, κεχριμπάρια κ’ έβενους,
και ηδονικά μυρωδικά κάθε λογής,
όσο μπορείς πιο άφθονα ηδονικά μυρωδικά·
σε πόλεις Aιγυπτιακές πολλές να πας,
να μάθεις και να μάθεις απ’ τους σπουδασμένους.
Πάντα στον νου σου νάχεις την Ιθάκη.
Το φθάσιμον εκεί είν’ ο προορισμός σου.
Aλλά μη βιάζεις το ταξείδι διόλου.
Καλλίτερα χρόνια πολλά να διαρκέσει·
και γέρος πια ν’ αράξεις στο νησί,
πλούσιος με όσα κέρδισες στον δρόμο,
μη προσδοκώντας πλούτη να σε δώσει η Ιθάκη.
Η Ιθάκη σ’ έδωσε τ’ ωραίο ταξείδι.
Χωρίς αυτήν δεν θάβγαινες στον δρόμο.
Άλλα δεν έχει να σε δώσει πια.

Κι αν πτωχική την βρεις, η Ιθάκη δεν σε γέλασε.
Έτσι σοφός που έγινες, με τόση πείρα,
ήδη θα το κατάλαβες η Ιθάκες τι σημαίνουν.

(Από τα Ποιήματα 1897-1933, Ίκαρος 1984)

[This photo was taken looking at the tip of Sithonia, the middle leg of Halkidiki in northern Greece.)

noreply@blogger.com (My Name is Iosifina) — Tue, 15 Dec 2009 17:40:00 +0000

Merry Christmas! Kala Xristouyenna!

This painting Ta Kalanda (Christmas carols) is one of my favorites by a Greek artist. Nikiphoros Lytras (1862-1904) was a 19th century Greek painter born in Tinos. He studied in Munich, Germany. More information:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nikiphoros_Lytras

More Greek Christmas Music

...more Greek comfort food: Spanakorizo

noreply@blogger.com (My Name is Iosifina) — Tue, 17 Nov 2009 19:48:00 +0000

Spanakorizo

One more Greek comfort food to add to the list of cool weather meals.

2 c. medium grain (arborio) rice
6 c. water
3 chicken boullion cubes
1 chopped onion
2 minced cloves of garlic
1 package of frozen chopped spinach
2 TBL tomato paste
1/4 c. olive oil
plain yogurt

In a large pot, saute the onion and garlic in the olive oil. Add the water and boullion cubes and bring to a boil. Add rice, tomato paste and frozen spinach. Simmer until all is done. You may need to add water now and then. The mixture is not soupy. To serve, spoon into a shallow bowl for each person and top with a large dollop (or two) of cold, plain yogurt. Yumola, y'all!

Cool Weather Dish

noreply@blogger.com (My Name is Iosifina) — Thu, 12 Nov 2009 15:47:00 +0000

Lima-Pea-Potato Pot

In a large pot, brown one chopped onion and 1-2 minced cloves of garlic in some olive oil. Add one can (or fresh) chopped tomatoes, one can chicken broth (or 2 c. water + 2 chicken boullion cubes), one package frozen baby lima beans, and about 3-4 potatoes cut into 1-2 inch chunks. Bring to a boil and cook until the lima beans and potatoes are done. Add more water to adjust. Add one can of drained peas into the pot. Simmer for another 5-10 minutes. There you have it--one tummy-warming and satisfying meal. Serve with feta cheese on the side. Yikers!

The Domino Effect and the Berlin Wall

noreply@blogger.com (My Name is Iosifina) — Tue, 10 Nov 2009 19:23:00 +0000

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mEpDUp8rGSc

Lech Walesa pushed the first of the 7.5 ft. tall styrofoam dominoes that continued for over a mile. The last domino decorated with Chinese characters did not fall.

Read http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Berlin_Wall for more about the history of the Berlin wall.

Lahanodolmades or Lahanosarmades with Avgolemono

noreply@blogger.com (My Name is Iosifina) — Sat, 24 Oct 2009 18:01:00 +0000

It's a cool and gray October day--perfect for some cabbage rolls with avgolemono sauce. The correct term for these lovely pillows of deliciousness in northern Greece is lahanosarmades, but in other parts of Greece, they're called lahanodolmades (lahano is cabbage in Greek).

Really easy to make:

1 large head of cabbage
1 pound of ground beef
1 grated onion
1/2 c. of arborio or medium grain rice
1 egg
1/2 c. fresh or 2 TBL dried parsley
1 TBL dried dill
salt/pepper

Core out a fairly large hole in the cabbage and place hole-side down in a large pot with about 2 inches of water. Boil 15-20 minutes. Then lift out, cool, and pull the leaves apart to cool further.

You WILL burn your fingers because who can wait? Place about 1-2 TBL of the meat/rice mixture at the base of each leaf and roll away from you. Place in a large pot even making two layers. Fill the pot with enough water and/or chicken broth to cover the rolls and above about 1-2 inches. Place a clean plate on top so they won't open up. Put a lid on and let them simmer for about 30-40 minutes.

Avgolemono: Beat 3 eggs and the juice of 2 lemons in a large bowl. When the sarmades are done, turn the pot a bit to ladle out the hot broth. As you make a sucking sound (yes, this is VERY important) with your mouth, ladle the hot broth into the egg mixture. Gather your children or friends around you to assist in making these sounds. Otherwise, the egg mixture will curdle. When the egg/lemon mixture is very hot, pour it back into the pot with the sarmades. Shake the pot to distribute well. Replace the lid and let the sarmades rest while you get out the bowls and set the table. (avgo=egg; lemono=lemon)

noreply@blogger.com (My Name is Iosifina) — Fri, 18 Sep 2009 15:13:00 +0000

The Knoxville Writers' Guild Poetry Group is delighted to announce their first chapbook, Bleeding Hearts: A Sampling of Poems from the Poetry Workshop of the Knoxville Writers' Guild published by Tellico Books, owned by Guild member Bob Cumming.

Edited by Cathy Kodra and Scott Savage, this 72-page anthology contains 48 poems written by 16 Guild members of the poetry group within the Guild. The book is designed by Beto Cumming, also a Guild member.

Scott Savage writes in the Preface about the group: "And just as the alchemy of earth is plowing, weeding, and watering, ours is the alchemy of words--deleting, inserting, and arranging--until something grows as beautiful as a stem of red flowers."

The poets in Bleeding Hearts include: Cathy Kodra, Beto Cumming, Bob Cumming, Cat D-Arcy, Peggy Douglas, Judith Duvall, Ruth Faulkner Grubbs, Vickie M. Jordan, Austin Kodra, Phil Lowe, John C. Mannone, Jo Ann Pantanizopoulos, Scott Savage, Jenny Weisent, J.A. Wilkins, and Martha Davies Yarnell.

This anthology can be purchased from any of the published poets in Bleeding Hearts. It will also be available for purchase online from http://www.tellicobooks.com soon. Guild members: $10. Non-members: $12.

Pesto Bread

noreply@blogger.com (My Name is Iosifina) — Tue, 21 Apr 2009 13:24:00 +0000

At my daughter's request, I made pesto bread for our Pascha feast. Very easy to make!
You will need:

--frozen bread dough
--pesto (ready-made or home made)
--shredded cheese (Monterrey Jack, feta, cheddar or whatever is available)

Thaw bread dough overnight in the refrigerator and a couple of hours on your kitchen counter. On a lightly floured surface, press the dough flat into a long wide rectangle. Spread 2-3 TBL pesto down the middle and sprinkle the cheese on top liberally. With scissors clip the sides about 2 inches deep on both sides of the rectangle. Then pull each side to the center and close with a toothpick. Let rise about an hour. Bake 20-25 minutes at 350 degrees. Good warm or cold!