Born, Corfu, Greece, 1934
Mother Tongue, Greek
Grandchildren, Hippocrates, Ellie, Anastasia, Tasia, George, Gregori
They call her, Yiayia
I’ve been cooking this dish for as long as I’ve known how to cook. It’s simple really, but the flavours remind me of my childhood and the process itself reminds me of my husband. When I was young, my sisters and I used to joke that skordalia isn’t for a young girl that wants to be kissed. I remember we would challenge each other to put more garlic in it every time we would make it for my brothers. The more garlic that was added, the more I would like it. Perhaps this is why I didn’t marry until I was 27.
I was one of ten children and we lost our father young, so we were put to work right away to be able to afford to get by. I never went to school because my mother needed me to go to work out in the fields. I still can’t read or even sign my name. My education was out farming and cultivating the land, which means I’ve always had a full stomach and an active life to go with it. I know which phase of the moon’s cycle to plant my crops for the very best harvest. I know which wild weeds are safe to digest and which herbs aid an upset stomach. I know precisely how much wood to leave on a fire and water to leave in the pan in order to slow cook a dish on an open flame while I’m out.
