KLEFTIKO, COOKED OUTDOORS IN A CLAY OVEN, IS THE FOCUS OF A FAMILY FEAST IN CYPRUS’S MOUNTAINS, JUST AS IT HAS BEEN FOR GENERATIONS
Brushing past an 80-year-old bay tree, I follow the heady scent of smoky rose. Flora’s family are in the garden, chatting over a big pot of goat in a wood-fired clay oven. Preparations for kleftiko —a slow-roasted dish of lamb or goat —are well underway.
The morning sun shines through the canopy of vines above our heads. Andreas, Flora’s husband, grabs a tiny terracotta cup in which Diamanto, Flora’s cousin, carefully places a few cubes of incense. “In Cyprus, before we cook something, we burn coal, olive leaves and rose incense to bring good luck,” says Diamanto, as a westerly wind wafts the fragrant smoke up my nose. Andreas gestures to the forest-cloaked mountains above, explaining that the incense comes from the Holy Monastery of Panagia Trikoukiotissa in nearby Prodromos, the highest village in Cyprus.
Flora and Andreas Karpi are my lunch hosts in Fyti, a sleepy village of just 80 inhabitants on a plateau in the Paphos region of western Cyprus. Married for 44 years, they have three children and four grandchildren. Andreas is retired, while Flora works at Paphos Airport. We’re also joined by Eirini, Diamanto’s mother.
All three women are proudly wearing colourfully patterned aprons handwoven by Eirini herself. Both she and her son work at the Fyti Weaving Museum, where they create textiles with fythkiotika, a traditional style of embroidery unique to the village. The family’s clay oven, built by Flora’s great-grandfather and used by every generation since, is just as steeped in tradition. The goat, the centrepiece of today’s lunch, has been cut into large chunks and seasoned with salt, cinnamon, dried oregano and freshly picked bay leaves. Andreas expertly places the pot inside the oven using a long wooden shovel. The garden hearth remains the family’s preferred method of cooking, year-round.
It takes around six hours for kleftiko to reach its softest, most succulent state. So, as the incense burns out, we leave the goat to its slow cooking process, and head into the kitchen to make dessert. All except Eirini, who takes off her apron, rests her wooden cane against the wall and settles into an armchair. Cindy, the family dog appears at her feet for another morning nap.
Flora’s house —which belonged to her maternal grandmother —has been kept largely the same for decades. Just above the kitchen table is a framed photo of her parents, and original wooden cabinets, floral wall tiles
