Flaounes: A Taste of Cypriot Easter
As spring deepens and the scent of wild herbs drifts through the hills of Cyprus, a quiet anticipation begins to stir. Orthodox Easter is approaching — a time of reflection, of gathering, and of rituals passed gently from one generation to the next.
Among the most treasured traditions is the making of flaounes — golden, sesame-crusted pastries filled with cheese, mint, and raisins, delicately spiced with mahlepi and mastic.
Soft on the inside, crisp on the outside, flaounes are more than food. They are memory, ritual, and the scent of home.
The Hands That Shape the Dough
In many Cypriot homes, the preparation begins days in advance. Dough is kneaded slowly. Fillings are folded carefully. The kitchen hums with stories, shared laughter, and the quiet rhythm of women working side by side.
In our family, it’s Yiayia Ntina who leads this sacred ritual.
She’s been making flaounes since she was a child — by feel, not by recipe. The dough responds to her hands. The cheese mix is adjusted by instinct.
Watching her bake is like watching time slow down.
A Ritual of Nourishment and Gathering
Flaounes aren’t made in haste. They ask for presence — to rise, to rest, to be folded with care. As with all meaningful rituals, the beauty is in the process.
These pastries are often baked in large batches and shared with neighbors, family, and friends. Some are eaten warm, straight from the oven. Others are tucked into woven baskets for Easter Sunday, nestled between red eggs and fresh greens.
Every bite carries with it the scent of spring, the warmth of reunion, and the hands of those who came before.
A Tradition That Lives On
The photos in this journal were taken in our family's village kitchen and garden, where my grandmother still makes her flaounes each Easter. Flour dusts the counter, her apron, her hands — but her movements are effortless, certain. She doesn’t need to measure. She knows.
In that kitchen, surrounded by familiar smells and sounds, tradition lives on — not as something preserved in time, but something alive, evolving, and deeply loved.
Χριστός Ανέστη.
May this season bring you softness, memory, and something warm, made by hand.
