My husband, Tony, is of Hellenic origin, and although we've been together for six years, this was my first wedding as part of the family. (Our own, with an outdoor ceremony conducted by a Unitarian minister at a maple sugar shack, definitely didn't qualify as Greek.) But there have been lots of other events -- engagement parties and funerals, the dipping of babies in olive oil -- and they all have one thing in common, aside from the abundance of food: half an hour before we leave the house, my husband goes bonkers.