Greek love

The American arrived on her doorstep looking as if he’d walked all 120 miles from Athens to her tiny village on foot.

“You need wine,” she told the stranger, happy to practice her English. She lead him to the garden where a canopy shaded the hot sun. She poured him a glass of Ritinitis Nobilis retsina ($5), that ancient white wine flavored with pine resin.

Knowing that the resinous flavor can be an acquired taste, she gave him a sideways glance as he drained the entire glass. Obviously the flavor appealed to him. She poured him another glass and one for herself.

She told him the legend of retsina: Centuries ago when the conquering Romans attempted to destroy the Greek wine by throwing pine needles into the vats. The Greeks drank it and said, “Hmmm … this is good.” They’ve been drinking it ever since.

As he savored the second glass, she disappeared into the house. She was famished from a hard day’s work in her mother’s restaurant and was glad to have a guest for dinner.

She prepared the garden table for a feast with all the fresh food she’d brought home.

He tore a hunk of bread from the loaf she set down. He was hungry.

Next he grabbed a spanakopita ($4.95), a small triangular spinach and feta cheese pie. Bits of the tissue-thin filo clung to his lips between bites. One after another, he ate the little pies, stopping only to sip retsina and nod gratefully in her direction.

He then dove into the horiatiki salad ($6.95): cucumbers, tomatoes, onions, feta cheese, Greek olives … but no lettuce. She told him she’d heard about so-called Greek salads in the United States served with lettuce.

“Lettuce in a horiatiki is not a horiatiki!”

He frowned in agreement as he moved on to the plate of loukaniko ($8), her mother’s recipe for sausage flavored with orange zest, which she’d placed atop slices of bread. He was intrigued by the unexpected flavor but continued to eat bite after bite.

She realized she might watch this man devour all the food if she didn’t stop talking and start eating.

She went straight to the evening’s special dish: a succulent slice of leg of lamb ($16.95), tender and moist. Roasted potatoes and a couple of green beans kept the lamb company. She saved some for him.

She poured them both more retsina, as he sopped up the rest of the lamb juice with the last of the bread.

In walked her father, carrying a plate of baklava in one hand. In his other was an ornate silver chalice half-full of red wine.

“You forgot your baklava,” he told her in fractured English.

The American bit into the baklava ($1.50). He shook his head. “I’ve died and gone to heaven,” he said, his first words of the night."Sir,” he said to her father, “If I may ask: what’s the story behind the silver chalice?”

Note: This story was inspired by actual events that occurred at The Blue Plate at Friday Greek Night.