The Greek custom of Lady Lent and my Lent Monday traditions

Greek Lent Monday and seafood go hand in hand…

My husband and I are creatures of habit. Lent Monday always finds us having the same kind of day, and we wouldn’t have it any other way. We are blessed to live in a small seaside town and other than a beautiful seafront and a lovely beach near home, we also have a mussels farm in the area and roadside stalls that sell all sorts of seafood all year round.

The latter comes in handy on Lent Monday more than any other time of year.

We always start the day with a walk on the seafront, we buy the traditional unlevened bread (Lagana) from the bakery and get some fresh seafood from the stalls, for our special ouzo feast and lunch of the day.

Lent Monday is a day of reminisching for me. In the old days, when I was young and living with my parents, my grandparents from Corfu tended to be visiting this time of year.  Mum would be tethered to the kitchen stove all weekend preparing a feast for the big day. I’d never seen so many dishes on one single table before, folks, and it only happened once a year, on Lent Monday!

My sister, two male cousins and I would spend the whole weekend flying kites in the nearby fields. The boys would teach us how to mend them, and we always wound up running to Mum to get us some flour so we could make glue with water to mend the broken sails with newspaper. Ah… Those were the days!

Mum made rolled up cheesepies from scratch (as well as spinach pies and pumpkin pies, sometimes) on the eve of Lent Monday. This is called Tyrini Sunday and it’s a day to eat cheese, as the name suggests. This is an old tradition from the days when it was practical to use up all the cheese in the pantry as the fasting back then was strict and no cheese would be eaten until Easter. It was a total abstention from all animal products, to be exact.

On Lent Monday we fasted strictly, to honour the tradition.

Neraki is a small town next to my town of Nea Peramos, and this is the place where the roadside stalls are.

We buy mussels there all year round but on Lent Monday we also get clams (cockles) to enjoy with some ouzo. 

The cockles go down nicely with lashings of lemon juice, the lemons just cut from the tree in our front yard. Lunchtime, I always make my signature mussels risotto, using the super-fresh locally farmed mussels we buy from Neraki.

It makes for a perfect celebratory meal accompanied by the various treats of the day, like dolmadakia (vine leaves stuffed with rice), broad beans in tomato sauce, pickles, lagana (flat bread with sesame seeds), and chalva (semolina cake).

Here are some photos from the seafront, the stalls and the typical Lent Monday lunch at my place

If you’d like to try my Greek mussel risoto with ouzo, go here for the recipe!

Lady Lent (Kyra Sarakosti)

The Greek custom of Kyra Sarakosti entails hanging in the home a picture of a lady, just like this one, which serves as a calendar during the perood of Lent. It is a rather rare custom these days, but some Greek families do still keep it with their children.

Lady Lent is depicted with a scarf and a cross on her head (because she attends church), with her hands laced together (because she is praying) without a mouth (because she is fasting), and, most importantly, with seven legs – one for each Lent weekend.

According to custom, Lady Lent is hung on a wall and each Saturday the family cuts off one leg – the first one on the Saturday after Lent Monday and the last one on Holy Saturday.

Housewives in the old days would hide the last paper leg inside a dried fig and serve it to the family with other figs. The person who found it would be considered very lucky. In some parts of Greece, the last paper leg would be put inside the ‘Anastasi’ bread (Ressurection) made for Holy Saturday dinner. Again, luck was said to follow the person who got to find the paper piece in their bread.

In some parts of Greece, Lady Lent would be made with a salty dough instead of paper. It was inedible, but it helped to preserve the dough during those 7 weeks. In other parts of the country, Lady Lent would be made using fabric and feathers.

I found this beautiful photograph on the site Workingmoms.gr while looking for a dough recipe for ‘Kyra Sarakosti’ to share with you. Thought you may like to bake it with your kids like some Greek families still do today.

Visit their post on Lady Lent and get a quick and easy recipe for the salty dough. Just make sure the kids don’t try to eat it, LOL

To get more ideas on how to make Lady Lent, even with coloured dough, go to this Google images page

 

Check out more of my posts on Greek culture here: https://effrosyniwrites.com/category/greek-culture/

 

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A post about my father, may he R.I.P.

SEE THE PHOTOS HERE

It is with great sadness that I am announcing today that my father passed away earlier this month, at the age of 81.

In the end, there was nothing I could do, no matter how hard I tried at home to make my father strong again with the help of two highly experienced and attentive nurses. His three long stays at the hospital since June while taking endless courses of strong antibiotics to fight the many infections caused irreversible damage to his organs.

He tried so hard and he was so brave, and now he is finally rested… I am comforted to think of him in heaven now, reunited with my dear mother. The fact he didn’t feel the slightest twinge of pain in his last days is also a great comfort for me, and a good indication that your collective prayers did a miracle to make his passing as easy as possible. And, for that, I will always be grateful to you all.

My father had a great affinity for horses, having been raised on the island of Limnos with various farm animals, including horses, thanks to his father’s job–he was a merchant of livestock. In the army, my father was put in charge of the horses, and he loved that. He was a bit of a horse whisperer too, in the sense that he could tame even the most wild ones – at one time surprising even his father with this skill when he was still very young.

Dad has always been super strong, despite being thin, thanks to his Greco-Roman wrestling training that he did as a youngster. In the army, he used to lift his friends up into the air while posing for photographs. I am sharing these pictures today with you all, as I find them very comforting.

I prefer to think of my father like this, rather than the way he looked on those dreadful last days, trapped in a skeletal, broken body. He is clothed in the glory of God right now, anyway, surely looking in heaven exactly as he does in these pictures: Forever young and able-bodied, eyes sparkling, face beaming.

To all those of you who have lost a loved one, I hope you are joining me in remembering that our separation from them is only temporary. Death is only for the body, after all, as the soul is eternal. Also, let us be comforted with the fact that the sadness is only for us, who are left behind, and never for those who leave us. The kind souls who move on beyond the veil have only bliss and only joy to look forward to. Love and blessings to all, till next time.

 

 

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A strange event in my sleepy little town and an old Greek movie

The derelict old factory in my seaside little town of Nea Peramos (just 36 kms west of Athens) came to life last month… but only for two nights. The old factory used to produce linen and distribute them all over Greece – the brand name was Peiraiki-Patraiki, and later it was taken over by the paper company, Softex, around the 80s-90s. Then, in the 00s, it was abandoned and left to its fate, to weather away through the decades that followed. The factory, and especially its beautiful facade, became famous all over Greece in the 60s as it became the set of the legendary Greek movie, ‘I Kori mou i Sosialistria’ (My Socialist Daughter) starring the most popular Greek movie stars at the time – Aliki Vougiouklaki and Dimitris Papamichael.

Today, the factory is derelict and it’s always quiet over there, since it’s flanked on both sides by open fields for quite a distance. This is why, as I drove past one evening last month, I found it very peculiar to see cars parked back-to-back along the road, for hundreds of meters before and after the factory building.

What’s more, from a nearby field, I saw youngsters emerging in large numbers onto the road. They were walking along the field on a dirt path that was situated on one side of the building. So, if they were visiting the old factory, why were they coming out via a field and not out the main gate, which remained locked like always?

It was all very peculiar, and my first guess was that perhaps something illegal was going on. A rave party? (if these are, indeed, still happening? I wouldn’t know as I am too old, obviously haha!) Some kind of happening for sure!

The people were just too many, most of them looking barely out of puberty too. Arriving home, I checked for new posts in a local Facebook group where the people of Nea Peramos discuss events, and share advice and information among them.

Sure enough, someone had already expressed their intrigue about the parked cars and the many people sighted near the derelict factory.

‘Not to worry!’ someone commented under the post. ‘It’s just a painting exhibition. It’s happening just this weekend!’

‘Oh, now it makes sense!’ another quipped. ‘I spotted a black Jeep parked outside the building the other day. Some guys were standing at the gate and talking’.

The rest of the comments were complaints, as one might expect. ‘An art exhibition? In our town? But, how come we are not aware of this?’

‘Yes, how come?’ another frustrated local would add. ‘Why didn’t they advertise it anywhere so we can go? Who are these people going there and how did they find out then?’

My own reasonings were similar. If, indeed, this was a legit ‘painting exhibition’ then why didn’t it get advertised properly and openly? Why all the secrecy? The factory gates weren’t even opened. And how was it that the only visitors I saw at the site were youngsters? Surely, middle-aged and even elderly visitors would jump at the chance to visit an ‘art exhibition’!?

To cut a long story short, this same oddity was repeated the next evening, and after that, the factory reverted to its usual ghostly state. And that’s when we got to hear the rest of the story…

As it turned out, this was a street art exhibition, after all, and it had been prepared and opened to the public secretly, on purpose. Whoever planned this, wanted to experiment, apparently, to see if such an event could be advertised secretly and still be a success among the young.

For two years, 20 street artists visited the building under wraps to work on a total of 70 murals!

The team that organised the whole thing gave the project the code name ‘Project Peramo’ (from our town’s name, Nea Peramos). The code name had been whispered from person to person these past two years, making its way online only via private Direct Messages – never posted properly on social media. And it still became a success on the weekend of the opening.

Two years of work resulted to this event, a spotlight of just a few hours. No one knows what will happen to the murals post-event. The only thing I have found that I perceive as good news is that the old factory has recently been acquired by a construction company called Dimand and that another company – Royale Sugar – is planning to operate in the building.

The locals, including yours truly, have grown upset over the past decades to see this old gem left to its fate so this is going to excite everyone – to see it in operation again after twenty odd years.

It seems to be frozen in time, judging from the pictures I saw in a blog post online (in Greek) that reported on the street art event.

In one of the photos, you can see a chart where work shifts were being recorded back in the day. And on another, the sign of the staff canteen sports the old font anyone will recognise from the 70s and 80s…

Go here to see plenty of photographs from the street art event!

UPDATE: In 2024, works in the old factory began under new management and are still ongoing as I write this. I look forward to seeing it operational again!

 

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Majestic views in Lake Doxa and a secret school

This view took my breath away…

My husband, Andy, and I spent one cold Sunday at the end of November filling our minds with images of breathtaking beauty at the mountains and plains of Feneos in Korinthia (i.e. the prefecture of ‘Korinthos’ – Corinth, in English).

I took this photo from the top level balcony of the stunning St George’s Monastery which overlooks Lake Doxa. The monastery of St George was originally built by the lake, but in 1693 the water level rose much too quickly and the monks fled, barely having time to save themselves. The ruins of that monastery are still underwater today. The same year, upon losing their home, the monks got to work building a new monastery high up on the mountain, to make sure history will not not repeated. In the monastery’s garden today, the monks grow a special variety of roses from the Peloponnese that are particularly aromatic.

Once a year, at harvesting season, they get to work using the fragrant flowers to make a syrupy sweet, which they sell at the monastery’s gift shop in jars. They also welcome the guests with a free treat of this sweet, and I can attest to the fact it is highly aromatic and delicious (albeit a little too sweet for my liking). Walking around the charming court of the monastery (that’s decked in stone everywhere you look) and around its different levels and corridors is a pleasure in itself. I was also impressed by the seemingly tireless tour given by an elderly monk. He was such a sweet soul and kept welcoming coachfuls of guests inside the tiny church, sharing about the history of the place in a low soft-spoken voice that rang with kindness and humility.

A depiction of krifo skolio by painter, Nikolaos Gyzis

But, above anything else, for me, the highlight was, by far, my chance to see the tiny nook inside the roof of the monastery that used to serve as a ‘krifo skolio’ (secret school) during the time when Greece was occupied by the Ottoman Empire (1453-1821). To get to the roof, one has to take two short stairs that are more like ladders and thus require a lot of attention. The wood they are made off, and the tiny landing in between, creaked with every step, so guests had to allow up to two people to be up there at a time. Time was precious once you got to the top to admire this precious little space.

The first time, out of respect for everyone waiting below, I took a quick look and felt embarrassed to take out my camera. Luckily, the crowd dispersed later, before it was time to leave on our coach, so I was able to go back up again, my camera in hand this time, to drink in the small space a little better, more reverently as it deserved, and to take a couple of photos. I didn’t go over the high wooden hurdle to venture inside, taking the hint that the place was off limits.

Two elderly men had stepped inside earlier to take a closer look and I thought it was a bit of a naughty thing to do… but also potentially dangerous (creaking floors and all that). But anyway, the photos came out clearer than I’d expected, since the place was deeped in semi-darkness. I love the ray of light captured by the lens, which wasn’t visible with the naked eye. It gives the space that reverence I believe it has. Truly, the ‘krifo skolio’ is romanticised enough in art, just like it is in the famous painting by Nikolaos Gyzis, and it does deserve to be.

After all, every priest and every monk during the Ottoman rule in Greece must have taken it upon themselves to keep the Christian faith and the Greek language alive during those dark 400 years. Had they not decided to organize these meetings in the dark of night to teach Greek children how to read and write in their own language, as well as all about Christian doctrine, chances are the Greeks would not be today the kind of people they are – i.e. people who regard their ancestry something to be proud about and also people that keep God alive in their hearts.

The following stanza from the Greek poet Polemis illustrates the atmosphere of ‘krifo skolio’ perfectly. This is my best effort to translate it into English:

“Outside, black-cloaked desperation

The tangible darkness of a bitter slavery

And inside the vaulted church

The church that every night morphs into a school

The apprehensive light of the oil lamp

Stirs the dreams while trembling

And gathers the little slave children all around.”

When we visited the lake, I quickly turned around to realize my hubbie was nowhere to be found. Crowds had gathered everywhere to admire the local produce on offer that was laid out across many stands along the bank.

I spotted Andy again a little later emerging through the wandering tourist crowds, and he was singing the praises of the locals, saying how hospitable they all were acting. Turned out he’d only gone on a little tour by himself while I was buying all sorts of lentils from the local plains at amazing prices. He was over the moon, having been offered in that short time various kinds of rusks, cheeses and tsipouro to try. I quickly followed his advice and tried some of the samples on offer as well. He was right; it was all delicious. If you’re ever in the area, make sure to try everything. I think we did haha. And we did go away with a couple of big bags. What a saving it all was haha

I’ve already cooked beans and fava and they were both as delicious as they had promised they’d be. I am still to rub the wild oregano I got off the stalks and put it in a jar. That was incredible timing as my longstanding stock of wild oregano from Moraitika, Corfu had recently been depleted 🙂

The lake itself is phenomenally beautiful. I’d love to go back one day and go around it to drink in its beauty at my leisure. In the summer, one can even rent boats (or is it pedalos?). People can cycle along the bank all year round or rent horses and ponies. We only had a short time to enjoy the views as it was quite cold and threatening with rain, but we managed a short walk to the Agios Fanourios church. It is tiny and sits at the end of a long strip of land extending far into the lake.

Our beautiful day out continued with lunch at the village of Feneos – we had roasted lamb, Choriatiki salad, and a side dish of local butter beans in tomato sauce. All enjoyed with fresh bread as we sat by the fireplace. We couldn’t have been taken to a better place for lunch. After all the walking around in the cold, everything hit the spot perfectly.

It’s been almost two weeks since that day and my mind is still full of beautiful images. The colors on the forest trees, the sparkling lake waters, the ancient woodwork and stonework of the monastery, and, last but not least, the sunrays reaching down to the plains as they pierced through dramatic dark clouds. It all helped to take pictures I will cherish forever. This part of Greece is not well known but well worth a visit.

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A day out in the alluring Greek island of Spetses #summertime #Spetses #Greece

Hi, All! I jumped at the chance to visit Spetses on a daily trip last weekend and I am thrilled to share about it today.

First time I visited Spetses was at the age of nineteen with my Uni friends, so it is very close to my heart. I visited it again for short breaks in the 90s and the 00s. Even though this visit was only for a day, it was just as exciting and my husband and I had six whole hours to catch the vibe of it all.

Spetses is an island of the Saronic gulf (close to Athens) that has a huge naval history thanks to Laskarina Bouboulina, the admiral of the Greek Navy, who was a heroine of the Greek War of Independence.

Oh my goodness. This picture makes me feel so old, LOL. But that was 1986 and I was a student at Athens Uni. And I had to show you this picture as it makes the island of Spetses look so idyllic, exactly as I remember it that first time I saw it. My hotel room had a view to the old clock square. It was so built up when I saw it again the other day it was heart-breaking. The middle space was almost taken on completely by restaurant seating areas, and two of them were not even traditional tavernas. They were serving pizza and pasta instead. I found them so out of place. So I like this old, quiet square better… and if you’ve been to any Greek islands in the 80s, you know what I’m talking about and what exactly it is they lack these days. Just looking at this photo makes me hear bouzouki chords in my mind, and my friends from Uni and I even spent an evening dancing in a bouzouki club!

The t-shirt I am wearing says, “If you’re gonna do it, do it right. Do it in Spetses!” and it featured Garfield laid out on a deckchair, sunglasses on, drink in had. So 80s! I was a huge George Michael fan back then so the slogan was perfect; I had to buy the t-shirt LOL. I wore it every summer after that for decades. It was only last year that it’d got so many holes in it I had to throw it away, much to my grief. RIP Garfield of Spetses, LOL!

Credit for the image to athensattica.com

But I digress. Back to my wonderful day out… After a hearty breakfast at the Dappia, the beautiful stone-paved port of Spetses, my husband and I went exploring. On the back streets of Dappia, across from a tiny park, we found Bouboulina’s stately home, now a museum.

Laskarina Bouboulina was a sea captain, and one of the greatest heroines of the Greek War of Independence in the 1820s against the Ottoman rule. 

Inside her home, we saw personal artefacts and beautiful furniture dating from many centuries ago.

Taking pictures wasn’t allowed inside but I was able to find online this photograph of the exquisite living room of the mansion. The wooden ceiling stole my heart. It came from Florence in pieces, apparently, and was assembled at the mansion piece by piece. The intricate designs carved on the wood were breathtaking. And so was the room itself. Just the idea that I was standing at the place where Boubloulina planned the next naval battles with other captains for the liberation of Greece made the hairs on my spine stand on end. It was an experience that made the Greek War of Independence come alive, and I felt the kind of awe I have only felt once before – at Agia Lavra monastery, standing before the legendary banner that started the same war in 1821.

How easy it was to picture Bouboulina in her own spaces! It was a huge privilege to be there. I was deeply moved as I admired her own ancient icon of St Nicholas – the protector of seafarers. It was a beautiful wooden icon with intricate carvings – gold plated. I could imagine how many times she must have prayed before it for the victory of her naval battles so she could save her beloved country. Wow. Just that artefact was enough reward for visiting that special place.

The pictures I’m sharing today from my trip feature the beautiful exterior of Bouboulina’s mansion, and also Spetses’s port (the famous Dappia), the imposing Poseidonion Hotel, and other areas. It was 36 degrees C and we were melting, so the horse and carriage ride and the walk to the end of the peninsula to visit the small marina and the shipyard had to be postponed for another time. All we could do was keep sitting here and there in the shade with food and drink for sustenance and refreshment, LOL.

I am also sharing pictures from other areas we visited on the way – the Corinth Canal, Costa (near the cosmopolitan Porto Heli) where we took the ferry across to Spetses, and the enchanting little town of Ancient Epidavros where we stopped over for coffee on our way back home.

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St George’s Easter egg? A Greek tradition, but not for every year!

“St George wants a red egg!”

That’s what my Corfiot grandmother used to say whenever I asked her why St George’s Day is late in any given year. As you may know, St George’s Day is celebrated on April 23rd, but in Greece this is not always the case. The reason for that is because in the Orthodox faith, the hymn used to honour Him in church, mentions Christ’s Ressurection. Therefore, it is not possible to honour the saint unless Greek Easter has come and gone. So, if Easter is later than April 23rd, St George is celebrated on Easter Monday.

I took this photo on Easter Monday (2022) in the main street of my little town of Nea Peramos (west Attica). After the mass, a procession took place to honour St George. The icon was accompanied by a brass band, the priest and town officials, boy and girl scouts, and other youngsters dressed in traditional Minor Asia costumes.

The town of Nea Peramos (‘New’ Peramos) was founded by refugees from Peramos in Asia Minor, who had brought with them an ancient icon of St George – their patron saint. The icon you see in these photos is not it; this is a contemporary one used to worship Him in the town’s church (St George’s church, naturally). The old icon is kept safe in the church as it’s so precious.

St George has always cast his protective gaze over Nea Peramos and its people. The locals speak of sounds of His horse clip-clopping all around town at night. They say the saint was patrolling around town on his horse every night all through WWII, and they believe this is why not one of the people of Nea Peramos lost their life during the war.

As you may know, St George was from Cappadocia, an area now in Turkey that used to be Greek. Legend has it that there was a dragon in Libya that guarded a water spring. Every now and then, people had to pick one of the locals in random to offer for sacrifice so that they could get water from the spring.

When the princess of the land was picked to be sacrificed next, St George, a young officer of the Roman army, arrived on his horse, saved the princess and slayed the dragon with his spear.

Legend or fact? Either way, I am sure you will agree that it makes for a very charming story!

 

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