Explaining Greek Easter

Easter is a big event in our family, at least on the Greek side. When I was growing up, I always got an Easter basket on American Easter, but then we would celebrate again whenever Greek Easter rolled around. The Orthodox calendar follows a different schedule, but what it usually means is that the Greek Easter bunny saves big on discounted candy. This year, however, much to the dismay of cheap Greeks everywhere, both fall on the same day.

My father George remembers going to St Sophia's for the midnight service and then a huge meal to break the fast in the middle of the night. I remember my Yiya always cooked a leg of lamb indoors. (She lived in Washington and might have freaked out the neighbors with the traditional lamb on a spit.) Later, when my Uncle Mimi moved out to Chevy Chase in the late 1940s, we could play baseball in the big side yard and roast whole animals with impunity.

If the weather was nice, tables were set up on the back terrace. I remember doing the Twist for the first time in their basement, and watching the Wizard of Oz on TV after dinner, but the best part about Greek Easter hands down is the Egg War.

All Greek Easter eggs are dyed a deep red for Christ’s blood. Some rely on food coloring, but my Yiya relied on red crepe paper. (Yikes) All symbolism aside, the seemingly sole purpose we Greeks dye a gazillion hard boiled eggs is to destroy them. To do this we take egg in hand and hit an opponent's egg or be hit. The egg that cracks is the loser, and the victor goes on until all eggs are broken, and only one grand champion egg holder is left in tact. (If you cheat like my father and uncle, you might slip in your thumb or, if really prepared, a marble substitute.)

These days my cousins, Dean and Ann have taken on the daunting task of having Easter at their house which is a frightful distance from Washington. They keep moving farther away, but it does no good. Many of us are well known for not missing a meal, and my brother drives all the way from Michigan. Some of my family can’t find their way out of a paper bag so they tend to travel in tribes and caravans with those that can.  Egg count this year is up to about 45, and the rainy forecast must have my poor cousins contemplating moving out of state, but until that happens, the Egg War will go on.