(Full disclosure: We do not provide the recipe to actually make Greek yogurt in this post, but stay tuned…it will be coming soon-ish) 😉
Some foods are so trendy it’s hard to escape them, and even harder to feel good about yourself if you do. Imagine the horror of being the only person at a party that has never had chia seeds. How awful to be the sole person in a crowd who has no idea what goji berries are. And don’t you just LOVE bacon flavoured anything? You don’t?! It doesn’t matter. Just eat it so that you can fit in.
Another super trendy food that we have actually loved forever is Greek yogurt. We were on that bandwagon long before Greek yogurt lined the refrigerated shelves of grocery stores everywhere. We were ahead of the times! Trendsetters! Avant-garde foodies! Or, as our children remind us, we were simply raised by Greek parents who made their own Greek yogurt because that was just what they did…and so, that is just what we ate. Whatever.
There are certain foods which bring us back to our childhoods instantaneously, and rizogalo (rice pudding) is one of them. Coming home from school we were often greeted with a still slightly warm, soup bowl full of the stuff, sprinkled generously with cinnamon. We would sit in front of the television, with our mother by our side, watching a bit of after-school specials before starting our homework or going out to play with our neighbourhood friends. Now that we are older, and have made this for our own families, we can appreciate that our mother likely benefited from the almost meditative act of making rizogalo, enjoying the last bit of quiet before everyone returned home, and before she went off to work in the evening. Making rizogalo is not complicated, but it does ask that you stand by the stove, stirring quite constantly. Not too much thinking required, just a steady, rhythmic, and repetitive circular movement. A perfect opportunity to free your mind and focus, zen-like, on being in the moment. An also perfect opportunity to, for example, tell your husband to find his own socks, since you can’t possibly leave the stove.