Blogs about Greece


Blog written by expatriates in Greece, living in Greece, working in Greece.


News and opinion from Greece (by Nick Malkoutzis) … Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts …


Greek Salad – a blog from Greece. Welcome to Greek salad, a delightful mishmash from Greece! Here you’ll find a lot of photos and I write …


Matt’s Greece Blog. Greece, travel, guide This site is sort of a journal of my travels or even a journal of when I am not traveling but have nothing better to do.


With mainland Greece and a diverse range of Greek islands, the country has much to offer its visitors, in terms of culture, architecture, food and going out.

I recently traveled to the island of Milos, a lesser-known Cycladic cousin of Mykonos and Santorini. When we pulled into the port, I knew the trip would be more challenging than my Greek class midterm– there were about 20 buildings visible in the main town, and, while there were the essential white buildings with blue doors, I did not see a single tourist shop. This was it. I was really in Greece.

Over the weekend I was pleasantly surprised. Milos was not crowded–I counted seven tourists over the course of three days–and the locals were very friendly and patient with my Greek. The island itself was beautiful and we enjoyed exploring the fields, cliffs, and beaches.

longdesc=”Milos is a Greek island known for its beautiful water and beaches.”

One night, my travel buddy and I skipped the typical tavernas by the water (where all seven other tourists were chowing down) and walked further in to town. We found a tiny restaurant, about the size of my college dorm room, and sat inside. An old woman and man were sitting at one table watching soccer on the taverna’s television. The woman stood up and gave us a menu. We ordered and my Greek held up fine through “nero,” “tzatziki,” and “saganaki.”

“Ohee saganaki,” she said. “Milos Special?” I was bummed about the lack of fried cheese, but who could beat something named after the island? “Nai,” I said.

We sat and waited as she went back to turn her oven on. We exchanged looks with the old man, who did not hesitate to scream and cheer whenever his favorite team scored a goal.

When the food came out, the “Milos Special” turned out to be a bowl with a cracked egg, oil, and feta cheese in it. The whole thing bubbled with heat. It looked microwaved, like something a Milos-dweller might actually eat before heading out to work in the morning.

“Oooh,” I said, poking it with my fork. I should have known it was a mistake to prod unknown food.


The egg and feta cheese combo exploded, sending bits and pieces flying into my hair, my face, and all over my clothes. My hand throbbed from the impact of the burning cheese. My friend and I looked at each other in complete shock. The old woman came out from behind the counter and stared at me in silence. She went back to get me a towel.

“Bom-a!” the old man yelled, laughing. “Bom-a!”

“Bomb!” my friend repeated, laughing with him.

Suddenly the four of us were all laughing as the old woman handed me a towel and we began picking the fried egg pieces out of our hair. We ate the remains of the “Milos Special” that had managed to stay in the bowl. My hand turned red from the burn, but I didn’t complain. The Milos “bom-a” was delicious.

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