Every year -for many, many years now- my grandmother, who is around 95 to 98 years old (we're not exactly sure because of mixed birth certificates) goes to her home in the village for the summer. Every fall, before the cold sets in, she returns to the metropolis and brings her pleiades of children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren gift packages of freshly grounded oregano handpicked from the village's surrounding hills, honey from the village bees and hand-made pasta (hylopites and trahana).
This year as I was clearing out the cupboard to make room for the fresh supplies I noticed the printing on last year's honey container: "GREEK HONEY IS THE BEST". One side in English, the other in Greek.
We, Greeks, are so full of ourselves, I laughed to myself and thought I should pass the word along on the Internet. The braggart promotion has been documented with my veranda's wind vane 'Bobby the Bumble Bee' as a backdrop.
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This year as I was clearing out the cupboard to make room for the fresh supplies I noticed the printing on last year's honey container: "GREEK HONEY IS THE BEST". One side in English, the other in Greek.
We, Greeks, are so full of ourselves, I laughed to myself and thought I should pass the word along on the Internet. The braggart promotion has been documented with my veranda's wind vane 'Bobby the Bumble Bee' as a backdrop.
.
