Cookies That are Oraia

At my dad's insistence, my mom is holding her annual crazy Greek Christmas Eve dinner bash. In the 6 years we've been back in Utah, we've seen the attendees fluctuate from just under 30 people to nearly 50.

My dad likes traditional Easter cookies, called koulourakia, any time of the year, and requested they be on the dessert menu. Since I learned to make these at my yia yia's side when I was about Niko's age, I offered to take baking them off of my mom's "to do list."

Dad likes them a certain size - and my mom's earlier batch had been deemed "too big." He planned on supervising my baking.

Mom and I made the dough together, then she stepped aside and let me do my thing. I shaped a half dozen cookies, baked them, let them cool, and presented them for inspection. Dad held a couple up examining them, ate one and when I asked, Einai kala (are they good), he responded, Oraia (beautiful.)

 The finished product.

More important to me than making sure my dad has acceptable cookies, is the need to pass the skill on to the next generation. As I was finishing the last of the dough, Niko arrived to help me.  He has a knack for Greek cooking, and I'm sure one day I'll describe his cookies as oraia.

 Niko braiding

 He insisted on making one a Q, for the queen (Liz II, we're waiting for you...)

For some reason, people keep insisting I'm the only male member of the Daughters of Penelope...