Little person in red hooded cape

It can't be helped. When I see a little person in a red hooded cape I think I'm in 'Don't Look Now' (1973). Unsurprisingly, it's not something that happens often, but when it does, it produces such a powerful association that it suddenly transforms the reality I'm in into an eerie, unsettling alternative.

I went with a friend to Kokkino Limanaki for the first swim of the summer. The sky was slightly overcast, the beach full of people. As we were drying off after our swim, our soundscape included airplanes, a bunch of guys discussing their eating habbits and the business calls of a wedding planner who had brought work and a filofax on the beach, on a Sunday. Normal, everyday people, having mundane conversations, while getting some sun. And then it all changed. Without any music prompts. I could just see it out of the corner of my eye. Then I turned and there it was. A little person with a red cape on the beach. It became instantly obvious that a killer was among us and something terrible was going to happen. The face of the little person was carefully concealed by the hood. I couldn't tell if the little person in the red hooded cape would be the victim or the perpetrator. I looked around me, nobody seemed to have noticed. 'Run for your lives!' I wanted to shout at them. 'Can't you see there is a little person in a red hooded cape on the beach? Don't you know your cinematic symbolisms?' Apparently not.

An afternoon in Pireus

For most Athenians, Pireus is the end of the train line and the unpleasant beginning of a summer vacation. If you stray from the waterfront, it is an unknown territory, a strange place, a maze. It is a place of adventure and discovery, filled with remntants from when Greece was still producing more and importing less. Disserted tabacco and textile factories, derilict warehouses, uninhabited neoclassical buildings that once spoke of prosperity and growth are all thrown in together along with the dated skyscrapers, the shipping offices, the fancy shopping streets, the rennovated buildings, the new blocks of flats and the odd house on top of another.

Although the water is polluted, I was amazed to see that there are still people who swim in the small beaches of Pireus. I'd like to think more out of stubborness to accept that the times have changed than out of sheer stupidity.

The most fascinating discovery of our afternoon in Pireus, however, was a little taverna hidden away in a residential area in Kaminia. It's one of those places that are not listed on any guides but are always full of locals. The decor is of an old tavern, with pictures from old Pireus and stills from black and white greek films on the walls, wooden barels, plastic vines, simple tables and chairs. The food -they serve both meat and fish dishes- is very fresh and when the bill came I thought they had made a mistake. I'm so impressed with this place that I'll give you the itemised bill:

1 καλαμαράκια (φρέσκα, τηγανιτά)

1 πατάτες (φρέσκιες, τηγανιτές)

1 σαλάτα (μαυρομάτικα, χόρτα, πατάτες βραστές, βραστό κολοκυθάκι, μπρόκολο και κουνουπίδι)

1 γαρίδες μικρούλες τηγανιτές

1 φέτα πάρα πολύ νόστιμη

1 γαλαίο σκορδαλιά (δεν έχω δοκιμάσει πιο φρέσκο)

1/2 κιλό κόκκινο κρασί

1 μπύρα Φιξ

How much was all that? An unbelievable 30 euros!

If you're in the area, don't miss it!

«Καπηλειό του Ζάχου» Κομοτηνής 37, Καμίνια

choux dough recipe

I'm trying to use up as much of the stuff we have at home as possible so as to avoid going to the supermarket. So when I wanted to make some party snacks on Friday, I came across a recipe for choux dough that is so easy I can't believe I hadn't tried it before.

Choux Dough

1 cup of water

1/2 cup of butter (I used margarine)

1 cup of all purpose flour

salt (if you want it savoury)

4 eggs

In a small/medium pan you bring the water and butter to the boil along with the optional salt. Then you let it cool down for a minute or two and afterwards you mix in the flour with a wooden spoon. You'll notice how the dough sticks together forming a little ball in the centre of the pan. You let the mixture cool down even more, for five minutes or so and then you mix in the eggs but with the help of a hand mixer this time. That's it. Finito. Your dough is ready. Now, depending on what you want to do with it, you give it the appropriate shape.

After that, you bake it at 220 C for 20 minutes and then at 150 C for another 20 minutes and you're done. When your dough has cooled down, you open it in half and fill it with whatever your heart desires, sweet or savoury.

I had a bit of difficulty shaping the dough because it is very sticky and I didn't have an icing syringe which might have helped. I used a large spoon instead and put ping pong ball sized dough on a baking tray lined with baking paper (I think the baking paper was an exaggeration on my part). In the oven they grew three times their original size, so bare that in mind when you make yours.

For my Mediterranean filling (ie what was in the fridge) I used

3 ripe tomatoes

some capers

1 spring onion

200 gr feta cheese

salt

pepper

black pit less olives

oregano

organic tomato paste with basil (this is lovely if you can find it)

I cut what needed to be cut, mixed it all together and filled my huge choux pastries with it. Didn't get any complaints. In fact, they were quite enjoyable. Like greek pizza topping in choux dough. (I just can't stop saying and typing 'choux dough'. Choux dough. Choux dough. Choux dough. Choux dough. Choux dough...)

First Aid Comedies

Imagine this: You just got fired, or you think you soon will be. (You're not alone, there are at least 605.277 unemployed in Greece. That is 12.1 % of the population.) You're at home watching the 8 o'clock news and you wish you had something better to do. You wonder 'how is it possible that the government discovered only just now that there were doctors declaring profits of around 700 euros when they have millions in their bank accounts?'. You shrug. You flick through the channels and all you get is talent shows, cooking shows and documentaries about climate change. You really do wish there was something more uplifting to watch on your new full HD television before they take it away now that you can't afford the payments. You could go out but you don't want to spend any money and it's too early to go to bed. What do you do?

a. You go on facebook to see what everyone else is doing

b. You solve sudoku puzzles to protect your brain from alzheimer's

c. You call your ex/friend/mother to talk about your mother/ex/friend

d. You watch a film you have very legally downloaded from the internet!

Before you download anything else, here is my list of First Aid Comedies that you need to get hold of NOW so that you'll have them at your disposal tonight, after, or better yet, during, the 8 o'clock news:

1. Forgetting Sarah Marshall (2008 - Nicholas Stoller)

2. Kiss Kiss Bang Bang (2005 - Shane Black)

3. Office Space (1999 - Mike Judge)

Comedies always work better if you watch them with a friend, so pick up the phone and put some beers in the fridge. You're all set. Enjoy!

a week later...

It has been a week since the greek parliament voted for the new measures that will keep the country going for a while longer, and our numbness is just about starting to subside. Numbness not only for the austerity of the measures and their unknown but more or less foreseeable consequences on our society, but also for the violence we witnessed last week and the complete disregard of the government for the huge public demonstrations.

However, even if the situation is undeniably bleak, it is almost impossible to be depressed in this weather. Despite everything, people seem to be in a good mood and I'm one of them. I'm happy that the birds are singing outside my window, I'm happy that the garden is in full bloom, I'm happy that we still have some mosquito-free days left. So for now, I'm going to focus on the little things, the little pleasures of life, like watching a good film or having a caipirinha with friends on A's balcony.

The measures are here to stay and, for better or worse, so are we.