Eat your veggies

(Visiting the village of Lefkara to see their famous lace with Dee, Arianna and Skevi)

In case you were wondering, I have continued my morning walks, and thanks to my new friend Skevi I am no longer risking my life or Arianna’s. Turns out there’s a walk/bike path not too far from our house and even though I do have to drive there to get to it, which kinda kills the spontaneity of exploring different avenues and routes, it gets the job done. Skevi is a Cypriot who has just returned home after many years on the road with her American husband. Things have changed a lot for her here, new roads, buildings and crazy amounts of traffic, but at the same time, much has remained the same. I really enjoy our walks and love to learn about her land, a place that my own daughter will one day want to return to also, because it represents their place of birth. It’s a land of past and present, where age-old traditions hold fast - yet Starbucks coffee houses overflow with the younger set, wearing their big sunglasses, latest fashion trends and I swear, smoking more cigarettes than any other culture I can think of. But I can bet that even these folks, much like Skevi, share more of their spare time hanging out with relatives, if not living with a few generations worth all in one house. They still grow grapes on their arbors, plant and eat the fruits from their citrus, fig and olive trees and they even have a local “shop” they bring their bushels of olives to be pressed for oil. Most mornings Skevi greets me with a bounty of fruits and vegetables harvested from her parents land. Tomatoes, eggplants, zucchini, onions, and small green peppers have all been making a daily appearance in our dinners. I wrapped the figs in prosciutto and served it on fresh toasted bread, brushed with oil and garlic and then I slow dried the rest in the oven to bring out the sticky sweet goodness that tastes better than any piece of candy. Nothing is wasted because I know how hard her parents hands have toiled to offer these gifts. As we walk the paths Skevi points out the difference between the tangerine and the orange trees, knows when a green fruit is just a lemon that hasn’t ripened or a lime. When I ask her how she can be so sure she says she just knows. She’s not a farmer, never studied agriculture and goes to the farmers market for veggies when they’re not in season just like me, but you see, she is still in touch with her land, and I’m jealous. I think that just a few generations back we were much the same in the U.S. but somewhere along the way convenience and instant gratification took hold and now we are losing touch with so much more than just the food. It makes me sad. I want to drink wine from the grapes that grow in my neighborhood, press enough oil to last until the next olive season, eat the foods that grow in the rhythm of the passing year and I want every one else to do that too. We don’t have prepackaged baby carrots here. If you want to snack on them you have to peel them yourself, if you want to make a salad you wash and dry it – none of that prepared mix junk. At first I thought all of this work was going to be such a hassle but it woke my ass up on a number of different levels instead. The recycling/waste reducing lover in me was appeased by the lack of additional packaging, the organic gardener/eat local produce gal in me liked knowing some farmer nearby grew his stuff with care and can still make a living off of it, and the nutritionally minded mom in me knew that what I put in my mouth would be mimicked by my mini-me’s. I guess what I’m trying to say in a very roundabout way here is that I am grateful for having Skevi and her wonderful family in my life now, and what started out as a pact to stay fit together has already evolved into so much more. Eat local, go organic whenever possible and try peeling your carrots next time, they will taste better, I promise :)