09/17/2026
Have you been to Crete? If not I think you should go!
We went to dinner and asked for a table for two. It is still
The busy season and it was a cloudy day so people were wanting to be in town instead on the beach. The restaurant had one available, but they were incredibly apologetic because we could only have it for two and a half hours.
Two and a half hours. 😂
In the U.S., that is a very long dinner. We usually get a reservation for 1.5 hours. Here, apparently, they were worried we would feel rushed.
So we sat. We ate kritharaki. We drank lefkó krasí. And, of course, there was raki. We talked. And we took our time.
And I’ve been thinking about that for a few days now.
There is something beautiful about eating slowly. Sitting at the table after the food is gone. Finishing the w**e. Having a conversation without thinking about where you need to be next. I know it’s not a new idea or concept but it feels more radical and more important
Especially right now.
In immigration law, everything seems to be moving at a speed I have never experienced before. Policies change. People’s legal status changes. Families are facing enormous uncertainty. There is a constant feeling that we need to read faster, respond faster, react faster.
And sometimes we absolutely do.
But maybe we don’t have to let that urgency dictate the pace of everything.
Maybe there is something important—perhaps even a little defiant—about slowing down when we can.
Slow eating. Slow conversations. Slow reactions. Taking the time to really listen. Not immediately reaching for the next thing. Enjoying the ridiculously small things.
We can’t always slow down what is happening around us.
But we can decide that it doesn’t get to take every quiet moment from us, too.
Anyway, that’s what kritharaki, lefkó krasí, a little raki, and a supposedly very rushed two-and-a-half-hour dinner in Crete made me think about.