You may have heard the Good News this weekend: it was Greek Easter! This year, Orthodox and Western Easters fell on the same day, so JetSet and I rallied the family to Pennsylvania for a big, fat Greek Easter celebration. (NB: There will be two…yes TWO… more Greek Easter celebrations to come. Buy stock in spinach now.)
We got started at about 5 PM on Friday (after a truly epic shopping trip in the Wilkes-Barre Wegmans). JetSet started with his eggplant keftedes, while I worked on spanakopita and the Picnic Pie (aka: Spinach Pie on Crack).By midnight, I was pretty spent–so I requested my evening reading be brought to me “in my easy chair,” where I may have nodded off for a minute or two.
After a good night’s sleep and my first run in two weeks (long story for another time), we got right back to work. Years ago, my dad, HomeBrew Kef, would go to baseball games just for the satisfaction of throwing peanut shells on the ground– y’all don’t know LIVING until you’ve had the satisfaction of throwing excess phyllo dough alllllll over the floor.
In the past, JetSet has graciously served as the sous chef. After three years apart on Easter, my dear brother returned to America with his spinach swag turned ALLLLL the way up. Charged with the creating the most sacred dish of Easter, he took our collective baklava game up about three levels with nothing other than my (very) watchful eye and a few unsolicited pieces of advice (because what fun is it to cook with your know-it-all sister if she just sits tight and lets you do you?).
Prior to the baklava, Grandpa Joe was pretty happy to be left out of the madness happening in his kitchen. But once we got that flaky, honeyed goodness going, Grandpa Joe was all ears. Here, JetSet gives him the scoop:
In the event that you didn’t know, my grandfather is THE cutest man on the face of the planet (not to mention the most upstanding citizen alive). Y’all should be waiting with bated breath for the post he’s gonna get all to himself one of these days.
I’m winding down on the prep pics here, but I’d be remiss if I didn’t include this pretty little lady right here– the Sunbeam MixMaster (nickname: MixMonster Kef)!
This 12-speed from the class of 1983 belonged to my grandmother and was probably last used in the 20th century. The bowl didn’t turn on its own and it was nearly impossible to cream butter and sugar together, but it was so special to use my grandmother’s kitchenware for the weekend. Though she died almost 15 years ago, I’ve really been missing her lately, and it was nice to feel like she was with us for the weekend… though I’m quite sure she would have found her grandchildren’s cooking methods a bit… unorthodox.
Come back tomorrow to see the fruits of our labor, a trip down the mountain to my fabulous Grandma Rita’s house, a family selfie that rivals Ellen’s Oscar stunt, and find out what dish was so good it had to be eaten off a boob!