How to Start a Fight in Greece (Just Say “Turkish Coffee”)
If you ever want to start a fight in Greece, forget politics or soccer or who took whose parking spot. Just casually say, “Isn’t this Turkish?” when someone serves you Greek coffee. Then step back, grab popcorn, and enjoy the fireworks.¹
The truth is, a lot of things we proudly call “Greek” come with a suspicious Ottoman aftertaste. But shhhh… don’t tell my pappou.² He will be rolling in his grave and he was born in Asia Minor.
Coffee: Greek, Turkish, or Just Hot Brown Liquid?
In Greece, it’s Greek coffee. In Turkey, it’s Turkish coffee. In Cyprus, it’s Cypriot coffee. Let’s be honest—it’s the same tiny cup of mud. The real difference? Who’s arguing louder about it.³
I remember the first time my New Yorker wife ordered one in Greece. She said, “Can I have a Turkish coffee?”
The waiter froze. A hush fell over the café. Someone’s komboloi beads hit the floor.
I jumped in quickly: “She meant Greek! Greek coffee!”
Order saved. Marriage saved. National pride preserved.⁴
Baklava: Layers of Diplomacy
Ah, baklava. If Greece and Turkey ever truly make peace, it’ll be over a tray of this sticky, nutty, honey-soaked dessert.
Greeks will swear it’s ours. Turks will swear it’s theirs. Armenians will roll their eyes. Meanwhile, the rest of the world doesn’t care—they’re too busy ordering seconds.⁵
Music and Dance: Opa Meets Opa!
Ever danced zeibekiko? You know, that slow, dramatic solo dance where a man pretends the weight of the world is on his shoulders—and sometimes a glass on his head? Yeah, that’s Turkish too. But in Greece, it’s been fully adopted.
The bouzouki? Same story. It crossed the Aegean strumming sad love songs and now it’s the soundtrack of every Greek taverna.⁶
Language: Lost in Translation
Crack open a Greek dictionary and you’ll find words that sound suspiciously Turkish.
köfte / κεφτές (meatballs)
dolma / ντολμαδάκια (stuffed leaves)
tembel / τεμπέλης (lazy)
duvar / ντουβάρι (wall)
mangás / μαγκας (tough guy)
baksis / μπαξισι (bribe)
Even my mom once told me to grab the brikí (coffee pot). Years later, I realized that’s straight out of Turkish.
But when I told her, she snapped back: “No, no, it’s Greek.” And trust me—you don’t argue with The Look.⁷
So… Greek or Turkish?
The truth is, after 400 years of Ottoman rule, things got mixed. Cultures rubbed against each other like souvlaki on a grill. Who owns what is complicated.
But here’s the thing: whether you call it Turkish coffee, Greek coffee, or just mud in a cup, it still tastes better sitting in a sunny square in Kalamata—with a suspiciously Ottoman dessert on the side and a bouzouki crying in the background.
Come visit. We’ll argue about it over coffee. Greek coffee. Obviously.⁸
Footnotes
Warning: results may vary depending on your location. In Istanbul, the same tactic may cause different fireworks.
Pappou: Greek grandfather, 80% storytelling, 20% moustache his pride and joy.
In a decibel contest, Greeks and Turks tie. Cypriots win by duration.
The holy trinity of survival in Greece: save face, save marriage, save national pride. In that order.
Americans, meanwhile, invented pecan pie and stayed out of this one. Smart.
Scientific fact: 92% of bouzouki songs are about lost love, the other 8% about drinking because of lost love.
“The Look” is a maternal weapon of mass destruction. Stronger than NATO forces.
And yes, you’ll drink it slowly, because otherwise you’ll eat half the mud at the bottom and regret life choices.
