How to Roast a Lamb_ New Greek Classic Cooking - Michael Psilakis [80]
It was when my father came downstairs to resupply the moonshine for the contingent upstairs, with nary a comment to Alex (who was so engrossed in his activities with a girl on the couch that he was the only one who hadn’t disentangled and straightened himself up upon my father’s arrival), that my father attained legendary status among my friends. He simply looked at Alex and the girl (who were oblivious), went over to the bar, picked up two bottles of moonshine, and walked back upstairs. At this point, I realized the adults must be having one hell of a party too. So I ran up to see what was happening.
My godfather grabbed me and nodded to Skalidis, the famous lyratzi who had been hired to play at the party. Skalidis played a pendozali, a very fast Cretan dance. My theio linked up with me, shoulder to shoulder, and other men joined the line. The women seated all around us cheered wildly. As the pace picked up, my uncle directed us to do what he did—and he proceeded to take his clothes off, piece by piece.
The women were shouting, laughing, and throwing the plastic flowers that were in the vases adorning the room. We danced at a feverish pitch. As I looked around the room, for a moment I stepped outside myself. I could see the sheer joy, delight, and reckless abandon on the faces of everyone around me. These were the people I shared my life with and the people who loved me. These are the moments in life that are frozen in my mind forever—and they are priceless. This is kefi.
And just like that, I was inside myself and back at the party again, my shirt in my hand, twirling it over my head and following the instructions of my increasingly naked uncle.
When I look back on my life to the snapshots that populate my memory, many of my fondest memories are of events that happened at the parties we hosted at our house when I was growing up. Entertaining, however, and especially throwing big parties, can seem like a daunting proposition. But a good party doesn’t have to be a huge party. Gather together any number of people you want—thirty, twenty, or fifteen of your close friends and family. With a couple of days’ advance planning, a little organization, and the help of your friends, you can create memories of your own to last a lifetime. I guarantee that once you throw your first party, you’ll be planning your second before the last bites of pastitsio have been eaten and before the last of the paper plates, plastic cups, and empty bottles have been taken to the trash.
The recipes that follow in this chapter are all-time party favorites. These recipes are no more difficult to make for four people than for thirty—a five-pound roast is no more challenging than a twenty-pound roast and spanakopita for four is no more difficult to make than for twenty. Save the fine china and crystal for another day, grab your friends as they walk in the door, and enlist them to help you. I promise, your friends will thank you and the effort you make will be rewarded tenfold with the memories you create.
Big-party cooking is not about one person doing all the work. A single person can’t make all the food in a day—it’s impossible. My mother used to cook for 250 people out of a home kitchen four or five times a year, but she cooked for a week beforehand. My aunts and grandmothers would arrive in the morning and help her put together everything she had prepared in advance. Just to have someone to wash all the pots and pans will make your life so much easier, because you’ll be using them over and over again. Hire someone, or rope in a friend or relative, if you can. Thinking about how and when you will do the cooking will help you create a menu that is realistic for yourself and your home. Quite a few vegetable dishes can be made in the morning and safely kept at room temperature. If you have a grill and someone to