On the Tragedy of St. Nicholas' Greek Food Festival

When spanakopita is wet and lame there is no pastry quite so false and weak, with spinach, feta, phyllo over flame, we eat it only at festivals Greek

It’s true, indeed, that this need not be so: somewhere a Turkish baker plies his craft, but on divided Cyprus, Greeks say “No!” (a culture war can make one’s taste buds daft.)

A rice pilaf that costs almost ten bucks is robbery even by standards Church The dollars flow in like a row of ducks, Somewhere a bishop cackles in his perch.

Though every year I forget lessons past this time I swear will be my very last.