Family Traditions Remain As Families Change

You probably know what the "holiday blues" are. Well, when I returned from a week in Greece not so long ago, I think what I experienced was the "depression". Despite how dramatic and privileged this sounds, I felt a happiness during that week that I had not felt for a very long time. It was like an existential release that, when I came down from such a high and back into routine, morphed into an existential crisis. I had not realised how bad things had gotten until I took a step back from it. My soul felt empty, and my stomach definitely was as I could not form an appetite the entire following day. The daylight was beginning to dim and I emerged from my bed to find a large pot of soupa avgolemono resting on the stove with open arms. It took me months to return to neutral ground after hitting such a low. Though, for that short while as I slurped on a bowl of soup watching the television, I felt comfortable.

Soupa avgolemono is a Greek soup made of egg (avgo) and lemon (lemoni). With only a few other ingredients, such as rice and salt and pepper, it is a humble dish that has played a role in each act of my life. My starring association with the soup is my family's tradition to eat it when we get back from a trip abroad. Usually, we would step back into our house after a week or two away during the early hours of the morning - so as to savour every moment of the country while we could. My yaya (grandmother) would have spent the final day of our trip back to England cooking the soup, to then leave it in our fridge - waiting for our return. Despite being exhausted from the travel, my mother would bring the soup to heat and ladle it carefully into the bowl in our hands. Quietly, we would eat together with gratitude before heading to bed.

Despite making wonderful new memories during my recent travels, I am burdened by nostalgia for trips of my past. Holidays that no amount of luxury could ever compete with. We were all together, that is all that mattered. No matter where I visit on this planet, I can never experience that again. Though, this family tradition has accompanied me through this ever-changing life. Now, my sister makes it for herself before jet-setting on a two-day break to the city - so that it is ready for her arrival. We eat it for breakfast when her pantry is looking bare. My mother cooks it for me when I am not well enough to leave the bed. It is a dish simple enough for the novelist of cooks to achieve - but it is enriched by somebody who cares.

Every yaya has their own way of making soupa avgolemono. By adapting the measurements of ingredients, different textures can be achieved. Having grown up with multiple women who would cook this soup for me, I know what I like. Amongst my older brother and sister and I, we would deliberate whose version was our favourite. My sister preferred a thicker soup, so my mother's was her stand-out. Whereas, I enjoy a slightly thinner soup where I could alternate between spoonfuls of sauce and spoonfuls of rice. My father's mother's recipe would, unconventionally, use vegetable stock - as opposed to chicken stock. Her's was always my favourite and I dearly miss her cooking it for me.

To achieve your preference in soup texture, it all comes down to how much rice you put in. Less rice, your soup will be thinner. More rice, your soup will be thick. Also, the amount of egg you cook with will determine how creamy your soup is. Personally, I prefer less egg in my soup as it allows room for the stock and the lemon to shine. The texture I enjoy best could be compared to that of a broth. However, if what you desire is a thick, creamy, heart bowl of soup - the recipe I have given you will fulfil your wishes.

As I mentioned before, my beloved yaya would cook her version of soupa avgolemono with vegetable stock. If you are a vegetarian, this single ingredient substitution means you can enjoy the soup just as the carnivores can! Traditionally, this soup is served with shredded boiled chicken swimming in it. While you can boil the chicken separately and shred it in the ready-cooked soup, it is common for the chicken to be boiled in with the stock at the very beginning of the recipe. Although I have spent many years enjoying shreds of chicken in my soup, I am attempting to eat less meat as of late. Now, my preferred way to finish the dish is with a sprinkle of black pepper and a warm chunk of koulouri - a soft-white Cypriot village bread coated in sesame seeds. The pillowy centre of the bread soaks up the sauce perfectly and, I believe, the sesame seeds that perfume the soup with each dip add a more delicious flavour.

Like all food should do, this dish is for you to cook and eat the way you want to. Culture and food evolve just as our lives do. We can hold the memories we once made close to our souls, while opening our hearts enough to make new ones. As I travel to more corners of the world I am yet to see, I hope to carry this tradition with me. If I live alone someday soon, I long to follow in my sister's footsteps and treat myself as if I were family. Should I become a mother, a yaya, I will do my best to keep my heritage alive. I hope my grandchildren like my soup the best.

How to make the soup:

(This recipe yields four to five decent-sized bowls of food. If you are cooking for yourself, you can halve the quantities of ingredients. Though, I would suggest you remain with the recipe and enjoy what is left over the following day - sometimes, it tastes even better.)

1. Fill a large saucepan with water and heat on the stove

2. Drop two tablespoons of powdered chicken stock into the pot, along with a chef's pinch of salt and pepper

3. Bring to a boil, then pour in two cups of broken long-grain rice

4. Lower the temperature and allow the pot to simmer without a lid for 45 minutes, stirring occasionally with a spoon

5. Take the pot off the heat and add the juice of three lemons

6. Let the soup sit for 30 minutes to cool down

7. Crack and beat three medium eggs in a separate bowl. Spoon a bit of the soup into the bowl of eggs, then slowly pour the egg mixture into the pot while stirring

8. The soup is now ready to be served and memories are ready to be made.