Greek Christmas food

in Downunder is, I suspect, generally good. It certainly is in Middle Cat's adopted family.

When Middle Cat married her in-laws informed her that, from then on, any member of her family who was "home" for Christmas would be part of their Christmas too. Unlike Orthodox Easter Christmas is celebrated on the same day.  Everyone was welcome.

Middle Cat was, understandably, a little wary of this. The first year though Middle Cat's late father-in-law phoned our mother and informed her that we would all be going to join them. It was not an invitation as such. It was an order. You do not spend Christmas Day alone. The Senior Cat's brother was invited - but he had already accepted an invitation to spend the day with friends who would otherwise be alone. What? They could come too!

They didn't because travel plans had already been made but the rest of us went along not feeling at all certain about it all. Were we doing the right thing? Did they really want us? Wasn't this a family gathering and weren't we too distant to be thought of as "family".

No. There was Middle Cat's father-in-law presiding over the ancient barbecue. He waved the long fork at us and called out Christmas greetings in Greek. Oh, would people be speaking Greek right around us? 

In the end though the day was a mixture of Greek and English and far too much food. It continued like that. The only year we have not been since was the year my mother died. That year we went off to my uncle's place and had a very quiet lunch with each other. It was not exactly Christmas-like but it was all people wanted. 

Every other year I have taken food and helped with the preparations.  I can't make some of the things Middle Cat's MIL, P... used to make. I didn't get enough lessons from her. I have never mastered the art of "dolmades" and will probably never try to make them again. It doesn't matter because even her own children cannot make them. 

This year there were no dolmades and no baklava or kataifi but Middle Cat's SIL, F..., had made galaktoboureko. We had it with fresh cherries and grapes and the "honey crackles" I am asked to make each year.  

"I had to look at a recipe," F... admitted to me, "I couldn't remember how Mum did it."

That was interesting. Things are changing slowly. I had made a cheese and sesame loaf to take rather than the traditional Greek bread - "because we had some last time we were at your sister's place and..."  Once it would have been a great wheel of bread shaped by one of the aunts. There was no barbecue this year. We simply had cold meats and cheeses. There was no haloumi in among the cheese either - once unheard of.

And, for the first time, the conversation around us was in English. The occasional Greek word was flung in to describe food but only because it means using one word rather than several, because there is no word in English for something like dolmades. Middle Cat's generation "sort of" speaks Greek as one of them said but the next generation knows only a little.  

English right around makes it much easier for the Senior Cat. It means I don't have to guess from the context and the occasional word I understand.  It will only be because the local fishmonger insists on greeting me in Greek that I will remember anything at all.

Perhaps it won't matter if I can still say "parakalo' " and "efharisto' " - "please" and "thank you"?