This one sounds metaphorical, though it needn't be. Every task works well if you keep at it till you can wrap it up and tie the bow. The string could be loosely tied, or not at all, and that is fine. As I put together my version of these Greek-inspired wraps from scratch, it came with a walk down memory lane and a fresh look at the reality we create for ourselves. I admire the simple yet complex creation that the wraps turned out to be, and even more so the lessons they taught!
The star of the show was the tzatziki. The flavor I carried back home, in my heart and palette, from my 3-month stint in the port town of Piraeus. I have dear memories of my most empowered self, coming to my hotel suite, my 'home', after a day at office, to order in my favorite meal with a side of extra dip. Always extra, always the same yoghurt, cucumber and garlic good-ness! The Greeks treated me well, and their love was evident in the good food this country has to offer. It was with this romanticized thought of my gyro and souvlaki days, that I got down to creating something similar in yet another 'home', one of many my heart had wandered through!
The bread was almost kismet. Leftovers from a big grocery buy, and good enough for a wrap before the rest had to be repurposed into oven-baked pita chips. The factor that stood out for me most from the Greek wraps were the fresh ingredients. The tomatoes, just ripe enough for their tangy sweetness, the potato fries hot off the stove, and the crunchy onions sliced seconds ago. Though the meat seemed to take all the attention, I knew that the greens and reds had to be just right. This led to a few minutes of rushed confusion, as the meat was doing its time and the ingredients had to be cut, some roasted, and then assembled. Not to mention my nerves on edge; God bless anyone crossing my war path during these moments! I'd learnt the technique of piling the chicken vertically on a skewer, a shaky structure resting on a trusted onion. As the fat dripped down, so did the tower, threatening to lean against the glass door of the oven. My brain once again went into overdrive. It played out the comic process of opening the oven and the mess that would follow, with some uncanny reference to the leaning tower of Pisa. I dismissed the thought and left it to fate. It was short-lived moments of panic, following which my mood soothed itself to deep bliss with a heavy dose of nostalgia.
I preoccupied myself with the tzatziki instead, trying my best to replicate the heavenly flavor that haunts my dreams. For a minute I was transported, to a sunny morning in Athens with my friends. A pretty dress, the stone-paved lanes of Plaka, a bustling little souvlaki taverna, with the most succulent of meats and strongest of garlic in yoghurt. The day was fulfilling to say the least, a simpler time with a heart so open and free. The pleasures of an afternoon cup of strong Greek coffee, while staring up at the Parthenon looming in the distance. Being surrounded by people who loved you for who you were, and respected you for the step you took to live in a strange land.
It was quite a rude shock to be pulled back into the kitchen I stood now, years later. My cooking skills have grown multifold by now, from reheating take-out on the pan with lovely olive oil. But what about my heart, I wondered. Do I still approach all of life with that same wide-eyed wonder at the beauty of this world. Or do we forget to acknowledge the mystery that surrounds us, as time moves past us in comfortable settings.? Like the whey that was squeezed out of the hung curd for the dip, do we lose our luster as we wring ourselves through life? What a deep dive this turned out to be; a trip down a pretty memory lane with lessons along the rickety path, similar to the array of pretty houses with pale blue doors, old window grills with a balcony of flowers! I realized how life changes us, the innocence lost of a time gone by. What does it take to get that back, to live again in complete contentment and simple peace?
Once all the prep was done and the time came to assemble the wraps, I found a moment of such peace. Time seemed to slow down, as I plated and piled. Generous dollops of tzatziki and the fat of the meat combining to form the perfectly right flavors. I looked forward to sitting down with these to watch our current favorite show, two pleasures in one moment. The moments you oscillate between what's on your plate with the comfort it gives your heart, and the scenes on the screen with its welcome distraction and light fun it gives your mind.
Mind and heart. The Greeks taught me to focus on the latter, to fill it with all good things and keep it happy. Even if that means moving away or starting a war for what you want.
From the early lore of Zeus, the battle of Troy and Athena's wisdom, to the resilience the citizens of today show during economic turmoil, the heart was kept happy no matter what it took. Nothing standing in their way, fighting hard for what (or whom!) they loved most.
That is some way to live before we wrap up our chapter on earth. What do we fill it with? Fresh perspectives, lessons happily learnt and openness, just like the wraps assembled with love and kindness? Or stale rigmarole of days passing by, pretending we are trees with roots that cannot move? I remind myself that life is what you make it. Irrespective of how it ends - tied up with bow, or not - we fight for what we love, fill the days with beauty and grandeur, and go into battle with courage and wit.