Food, Glorious Food!

Foreigners who come to Cyprus have always talked of Cypriot hospitality. Cypriots love to welcome people and make them feel at home. There is a warmth in their gestures, an earnestness in their chatter. They want you to get the best view of their island and come again. Food is a Cypriot way of welcome. What better way to please, than to fill up the stomach. My godfather, an astute businessman often uses food to sweeten up his associates and it usually works!

One of the best known Cypriot food moments is cooking the souvla (big pieces of meat on skewers) and it is often done on a special occasion with plenty of company. At my grandmother's house the guests begin to arrive one by one. My grandfather, father and uncle gather around the fokou (barbecue). The men take pride in making a good souvla. There will be disagreements on whether the souvla is too raw or too well done or whether the coals need to burn more. Conversation mingles with the zivania which is drunk profusely. My uncle starts a story about a "kalamara" (Greek mainlander) conman who came to his garage and tried to sell him stolen Sony Ericsson phones. Then it's about football and politics. Both are given a bleak picrure." They will never get into the Champions League," declares my uncle. " Those left wingers have sent the country to the dogs!" chants my grandfather.

The table is laid with olives, fetta cheese and pickles. Halloumi, spiced sausages and pitta bread are cooked on the fokou. The smell wafts through the neighbourhood. My grandmother hobbles around trying to get everything on the table. My aunt mixes the salads and nibbles at a bit of fetta.But the food doesn't end there. There is makaronia tou fournou (pasta) and koupepia (stuffed vine leaves) too, with tzantziki and houmous for extra dips.You eat because if you don't, your host will be offended.
There is never silence on the Cypriot table.Different topics come up and it's usually centered around food. How the new butcher sells his meat, what's fresh at the local market and recipes. Then someone, usually me, randomly says "There's going to be a storm tomorrow" and everyone knows there isn't but that opens a whole new topic on drought and if it will rain enough this year. My aunt starts a conversation on whether Chrysoulla has finished her five storey mansion with the swimming pool. That she's in debt because she has built above her means. If little Nikolas has been christened and what his godmother wore. I feed the cat under the table as I listen to this idle chatter. The voices are familiar. I feel a contentment of having my family all round one big table.

Sweat beads start to appear on foreheads and regrets on eating too much. Bellies popping out of trousers and toothpicks at the ready, it's time for dessert. My grandmother is a connoisseur on desserts. There is baklava and jelly with the creamy lemon base, chocolate cake from Patisseri Panayiotis and fruit. There's always fruit. You eat eventhough your stomach is going to explode because it's food.
The chatter slowly dies down and guests start to leave. The party is over but everyone has been fed. The job has been done. I help pick up the empty plates with the chocolate crumbs and half-eaten apple. Food once again has managed to bring a family together for a night. It's amazing what food can do.

The importance of a mass produced wedding...

My most recent wedding experience was a disaster. As is known you must wait in line to congratulate the bride and groom and of course produce a tiny white envelope with your gift of money. Cypriots are very good at waiting in wedding queues. There were minimal complaints.I waited for an hour in the queue. A queue which formed from left to right, so in fact it was a crowd of people.

The wedding was a mass produced affair. What do I mean? Cypriots have a tendency to invite anyone and everyone to the wedding, from the local hairdresser to the local butcher. This of course is to get the money (that is if they don't get an empty envelope which has happened) and which will help pay for the exquisite eccentricities. The candles with the glitter and the tiny pink stones surrounded by flowers in crystal vases. Then it's buffet time where you can eat and drink as much as you like. There was pushing and shoving to get to the cutlery only to be confronted with overdone pork and greasy potatoes and a salad which seemed like yesterday's. Then the music started. If you want to have a decent conversation with someone, you can't. I have heard that there have been weddings when the bride and groom are lifted from underground on a podium to be greeted by claps and cheers and the best bit? They are in a red convertible beeping the horn. I guess people have tastes, but a red convertible?

The bride and groom had their first dance and this was an opportunity to have a good look. The bride wore extreme makeup. The eyeshadow was dark blue with silver and lashings of mascara. The dress? Too many frills, and meringuish. The groom? His hair slicked back in a ponytail, shiny shoed. Despite the over-extravagant theme and all the chaos, there emerges one thing which usually comes across during the dance. Two people who believe they are made for eachother.At least you would hope so anyway. But why mass production? Surely at your wedding you only want to be surrounded by your close friends and family. What's the point in shaking hands with a bunch of strangers? For the money? Have something low key so your costs don't hit the roof. It's simple really.

When I got home that night my feet were killing me and my ears were ringing from the music.I had gone to the wedding as an observer to congratulate a newly-wed couple I hardly knew. Why did I go? Probably for the same reason that all the other hundreds of people had gone. Out of pure curiousity. Plus I didn't have anything better to do that night! It was a wedding, however over the top with the glitter and the stones and the ribbons and the bride's overdone makeup. It was a celebration. " Na zisete" I had said when shaking the couple's hands " Congratulations." I guess I meant it.

Limassol...

Limassol is a coastal town on the southernest tip of the island and is where I live. Tourists are often baffled by Cyprus' actual size. Some arrive believing they can drive round the island in a day. That's not so although other towns are in close proximity. Nicosia to the north is a good 40 minute drive, the same with Paphos and Larnaca. Of course it depends how fast you drive. Islanders love to break the record with their reckless driving skills.

Back to Limassol. To me it is by far the best town with everything you would comfortably need. Trendy cafes and plush restaurants,clubs and bars, two cinemas, two main theatres, shopping malls,boundless supermarkets and much more but the highlight is the sea. This is what gives this town its soul, its warmth, something that the capital, Nicosia can't boast in having. Recently the mayor has given the town a facelift especially the sea front. People walk and cycle down in the evenings and in the summer months there is nothing better than strolling down with an ice-cream, casually observing the goings on.
There are two main events Limassol is famous for, the Carnival in February and the Wine Festival in September. They are times of great revelry when the locals really pull out all the stops. The atmosphere especially during carnival time is electrifying. The colours, the costumes, the decorations, the confetti in the streets are dazzling to the eye.

Time passes quickly in Limassol for me at least. If there's not one thing to do there is another and if it's not summer with all the beachifying it's Christmas with the town lit up for the festive mood. Let's not forget the giant rotating Father Christmas down town on the Ayios Nikolaos mini roundabout!At Easter it's a giant multi-colured Easter eggs.

As the great Frank Sinatra once sang about Chicago, Limassol is my kind of town.