Eating octopus is a Greek tradition. Take a look at my last name, and you can safely assume there were many days after Catholic school where I came home to find myself hit by the sticky stench of octopus, stewing on our stove, as soon as I stepped inside our front door. Inhaling that thick odor, I’d throw open all the windows in our house, wondering (loudly) why we couldn’t “just eat normal ...
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