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The Fetas

The Fetas - by Catherine Whyte (14 yrs)
This short story won first prize in our SA Schools 2003 Gastronomy Competition. The judges thought it was "a witty story with some lovely dialogue, great portrait of food-obsessed family" and it contains "playful, skilful use of language".

Walk into our house and the first thing you notice is the smell of Mamma’s cooking.
Cooking. Food. The only things my family EVER thinks about. We even have a family saying, “All for food, food for all!”.

I just arrived home from Greek school, and what do I smell? Mamma’s cooking!.
“Welcome home, my bebee! You must be hungry! Come here! Come here! Letta me get you somethin’ to eat!” Mamma insisted, dragging me into the kitchen. “What would chu like? Cookies? Cake? Hmm? Hmm? Hmm?”.

Finding my balance, I insisted “Nothing Mamma, I’m fine. Not hungry”.

“Not hungry?!” Mamma exclaimed. “Whatta you mean NOT hungry?” A tear formed in her eye. “Oh no… Oh no… You are ill, you are ill.”
“No Mamma. No, I am not ill,” I assured.
“No?”
“I’m perfectly fine. I’ll just wait till dinner”.

I quickly paced out of the kitchen and into the lounge, only to be swamped with “Ah, Fetina!” and “Fetina, come join us!” Before I could blink, three of my cousins, Feto, Fetalita and Fetanita dived on me and pulled me into a seat. Now my insides felt all crumbly and white.

“Fetina, we are talkin’ about de favoureet foods of ours! Tell us, what is yours?” Papa Feta asked. Papa Feta was the eldest of the Feta family. The crumbliest too. If you ask me, he’ll crumble in a heap any day soon. “My favourite food? Well, that would have to be…. curdled milk” I announced, “So creamy”.

Before anyone could say anything else, Mamma cried “Dinner! Come on! Eat! Eat! Eat!”
Suddenly all my family had cheesy grins on their faces and they ran to the dining room.
I slumped into a chair beside Aunt Fetita and Uncle Fetito. Mamma circled the table, blobbing large amounts of different foods onto each Fetas’ plate. When everyone was seated, on the count of three they chanted, “All for food, food for all!”

I gobbled down my food as fast as I could, so I could get away from the conversation. Everyone seemed to be, as usual, in a “foody” mood. Not me, however. I hurried, slouched, to my room.
After I’d completed my homework, which thankfully wasn’t about food, I crawled into bed. “Yay!” I thought to myself. “Great, foodless dreams! No more food!”

The next thing I knew, I could hear the sound of Mamma. “Breakfast! Wake up sleepy heads! De breakfast! De tasty breakfast is ready!”

“Nooooo!”

growing up / cooking food / knowing how / feeling good