Omelets

There is nothing I enjoy more than chatting with my family. The topics are quite varied and always interesting. Depending on who is there, conversations can be quite revealing at times. One day, we had about 8 of us sitting around the kitchen table. The conversation started with someone mentioning that dad always put mom's initials in cheese on any omelet that he made for her. I can't tell you how many omelets dad made for her over the years. Each omelet had her initial of C on it. Her name was Christina. I honestly don't remember if he put the last initial on it or not. My uncle, looking to start an argument with his siblings, stated that he made the best omelets in the world. He proceeded to tell how he made them. I think he put milk with the egg. Of course dad disagreed. The debate of the omelet was now in full force. My cousin chimed in with her "you guys have it all wrong" and shared her cooking method. I had heard enough and couldn't resist the temptation to say that I made the best omelet!! Being that I love any kind of egg, I had to pipe in with my response. I never put milk with my egg, but just add a teaspoon of water per egg. I have no idea why I do this, but I do. When ever I make an omelet, I am reminded of my time living in Paris. I would watch the lady with whom I shared her townhouse, cook an omelet. Only a Frenchman can make cooking a simple omelet worthy of a true art show!! Yes, there is a particular method to cooking them. I remember watching her and know how she cooked the omelet. I must admit that I can make the most fluffy 2 egg omelet that you have ever seen. The Greeks probably use olive oil in their pan, dieters may use a cooking spray and egg whites, one uncle may use vegetable oil, and another margarine. I must say that I only use real butter for my omelets! I can't remember the last time I even purchased margarine...I just don't like the taste. One thing I remember is that you don't want the omelet to brown. You have to watch it carefully so that it doesn't get brown. So deciding what kind of pan to use, to what kind of cheese and oil, we can have a conversation lasting an hour on one topic. So until we have a contest with all of us making omelets, I'll just say that my dad makes the best ones. I was at his house one day and he made an omelet for me. True to form, there was a letter "L" on top of the omelet with cheddar cheese!

Language

When I was a little girl, my grandfather lived with us for quite a few years. He spoke English with a heavy Greek accent and if you didn't know him, you couldn't understand him. I learned a little Greek from him, but not enough to carry on a conversation. It was an entirely different story when dad was a young boy. Greek was spoken at home. Of course, Dad learned English at school as well as on the streets. Living in a Greek community, the language as well as the foods from home were all around him and his siblings. He even said that there were so many Greeks on the football team that they would speak Greek as they lined up for the play. I'm sure that could come in handy when time was short!

As well as going to American school, Dad and his siblings had to go to Greek school in the afternoons. Education was important to his family. Dad said that one day it was announced that there was no school on the radio. Dad told his mother, but she insisted that he had to go to school. Off they walked through the icy snow covered streets of Atlanta to the school. When they got to the school, there was a note posted on the door. His mother asked what it said... Exasperated, Dad said, "mama, it says there is no school today because of the snow!!". They went back home as proof of no school was on the door!!

After a day of school, Greek School, and a job, I'm sure that dad slept well.

When I went to Greece with my parents, it was fun to travel in a foreign country where my dad was at home with the language. Speaking was the easy part, and somewhat amusing for the natives to hear it with a peculiar accent of America. How that happened, I don't know as his parents came to the U.S. in their 20s. He said that the reading was becoming easier the more he stayed in Greece. One of his sisters can speak, read, write, type, and probably take shorthand in Greek too. With my little knowledge of Greek, I can be quite amusing in my attempts at Greek. If I were in Greece, I could be polite, exchange pleasantries, order food, and goodness knows I could even cuss at someone if necessary! My poor friend's mom thought her child was learning Greek, when in actuality, she was cussing in English with a heavy Greek accent. Papa cussed like a sailor, but we children didn't. How that happened, I'll never know. At least he would be polite and say: "Excuse me ma'm, but that somavabiches....." . One day, I hope to study the language. I have my books at the ready to get the sounds of the letters! Every time I give kindergarten kids flash cards, I think that I need some Greek flash cards too!