Neko has been supporting Maria to gather and organise the donated 'cast-offs' of Thessaloniki's high society, and put together a jumble sale in the salubrious area of Panorama (genius - take the rick folks things and flog them back to them! Raising money for the poor - it's like 'Bargain Hunt' meets 'Robin Hood'). She's also visiting poor families with food parcels - this may be the only guarunteed food the family gets all week. A real eye opener.Meanwhile, Kris was being whisked around by Polis through the city's dingy drug spots on his weekly soup run. Afterwards, as a late night 'reward' for our efforts, and with a mind to bond in Thessaloniki's most parochial cafes, Polis treated me to a 'must have' local dish ominously known as Patsa. I'm generally game for any new experience - philosophically committed to the idea of trying anything once, as the saying goes… "except incest and morris dancing", and I tucked in to a steaming bowl of shredded pigs intestines. Mmmm. So long as I didn't entertain the thought of what I was eating for too long, and instead focus on my Greek hosts luminous conversation, I believed I was in with a chance.
I can only describe the taste as 'like licking a butchers floor'…greasy rotten offal with an aftertaste like hell itself. It's with a curious blend of amusement and pride that Polis watched me wretch and turn pale, as though I had passed some sick kind of Greek male initiation. I've eaten some very dodgy things, and this was by far the worst ever. As the alpha male, Polis tucked in to my remains. Aside from this harrowing experience, we've been fed like royalty in the Pantelidis household.
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