How 300 euros advanced my understanding of Greek meze culture

I met once a charismatic, genuine, small scale, Greek swindler. He was a very pleasant person, generally speaking, but you had to make sure you never lend him hundred euros because you were sure never to see those euros again in your life. I was introduced to him by an ex colleague of mine, who had gone bust and was trying to survive by exercising a rudimentary sort of lobbying. He was as a consequence bringing his friends in contact with each other in the certainty that something good should come out of it in their business development. A sort of pre-net facebook concept I suppose. I can testify that nothing good came for me by meeting this person except from the three or four hard core meze sessions we had together and which I will not forget. All those sessions took place at the roof of a well known Athens hotel, where he appeared to move with the ease of the owner. He had his favorite place, everybody seemed to know him and he could permit himself liberties which were unthinkable to normal guests.

I recall that after ordering some wine he came up with a polite but odd request to the waiter: “could you, Vassili, cut this cheese into six small pieces and bring it to us with two slices of this brown bread as meze; It is formaela Parnassou. Do you know formaela, Vassili? It’s a great Greek cheese that few people in Athens ever tasted. I got it yesterday from my cousin in Larissa”. And he would then produce triumphantly from a bag the said bread and cheese. I feel uncomfortable with odd behavior. But he was so tremendously relaxed that I got over it soon. His pace was remarkable. No hurry. Meze and wine were brought and placed at the table. They remained there ignored for a good seven minutes not because we were carried out by any lively or very interesting conversation but by conviction. Meze is postponing. Meze is abstaining. Meze is discipline. And because of all that meze is the ultimate food gratification.

In our hurried and frivolous times people may use the word meze to denominate all sorts of food concepts: appetizers, tapas, smorgasbord, African mazza. Etymologically meze certainly originates from the Persian word “maze” which means taste. And like appetizers it is different to a meal, a “plat de resistance” as the French call food meant to keep us stocked with our daily ration of calories. But the Greek meze is a unique and distinct entity, very indicative of the Greek value system. Meze has to be small in quantity. It requires a postponing mood, a detached attitude, a laid back posture. It is unthinkable without alcohol. It is really pathetic without the company of a friend. Too much variety is destructive to meze. The central idea is to intensify the pleasure of the moment by not alienating it. Too much food, or too rich, or too hurried distract and destruct. Taste is never greater than when we consume in moderation and serenity.

Those who know me understand at a glance that this is a thought I observe “more in the breach than in the observance”, to quote Shakespeare. I admit it with regret. Maybe it is for this reason that I admire those who do otherwise. May be this is also why I forgave, in my heart, this charming swindler. In spite of the fact that he still keeps, God know where, the three hundred-euro-bills which I lent him in the short time of our acquaintance.