Nicosia confectionery succumbs to pressure of big bakery competition

IT’S WIDELY agreed that bigger and flashier consumer outlets appeal more. But that constant need for modernisation, teamed with an automatic attraction to chain brands has created a sudden rift in the market.
It’s a case of out with the old and in with the new, which is an inevitable part of evolution, you could say, but nonetheless, a sad one. Morpho confectionery, a family-run business that became famous for its irresistible syrupy sweets, is closing its doors.
It has failed to compete against giants like Marangos and Zorpas, who have surrounded the small shop, asphyxiating its owners into selling and finally leaving the work they have known for the last 50 years.
“We’re sad but relieved at the same time,” said Lisa Pelagia-Kazolidou, one of three daughters who has worked alongside her parents at Morpho almost her entire life.
Lisa is sitting next to her father, Yiorgos Kazolides, the 75-year-old man who first opened Morpho in Morphou in 1950, with his wife, Korallia.
“Morpho moved to Nicosia after the invasion 1974 but up until then, my wife and I were thriving, making baklavades and daktila, so many people loved and couldn’t get enough of. We loved what we did and decided to continue in the capital but that only lasted a year.”
In August of 1975, Yiorgos and his wife moved the family to Sweden, where they continued making sweet goods for the Greek community.
“The war had affected us more than we thought, so I moved the family to Sweden, where my wife’s brother lived, in search of something better for them.”
The Kazolodes family lived in Sweden for eight years. Lisa, now 50, has vivid memories of her mother making baklavades and galaktopourekka from scratch: a time-consuming and painstaking task.
“She would cover this massive kitchen table with extremely thin dough, which had to be rolled out and allowed to dry to a point. The dough then had to be cut and layered. It took so much time and patience, I admired her so much for it,” she says. “But this was the extent of the love we put into our desserts.”
In 1982, the family returned and opened the third Morpho in Kakopetria, where Lisa was married.
“Times were hard and we weren’t making as much as we thought we would, so we moved back to Nicosia.”
In 1988, Morpho was re-opened but that wouldn’t last either. “I was renting back then,” Yiorgos says. “I was paying £500 a month and decided I wanted to buy my own place.” Ironically, Zorpas had opened a couple of years before Morpho leaving its fourth location. This was also the same time bread had started being baked on the premises as well as sweets.
As of today, Zorpas is the owner of the fifth and last Morpho shop. There are two reasons father and daughter give for their decision to sell the business, which will only just about cover their debts.
“We became increasingly tired. Owning a confectionery is a 24-hour job, especially when it’s owned and run by you,” says Lisa. “Even though we had our regular customers, who we thank, customers got fewer and fewer over the years.”
Despite an unsuccessful battle with the other two major names that had opened right around the corner from Morpho, the family still employed many of the nine employees after 18 years of service.
“They were part of our family,” says Yiorgos. “We would cook and eat in the kitchen like families do. This has been our house as much as our homes were and we weren’t going to let go of anybody.”
Instead, for years, the Kazolides family was paying out of its pockets to keep Morpho alive. “In the last couple of years, we’ve been making €300 maybe €400 a day on average and that isn’t enough to support a business.”
To top that off, Korallia, wife, mother and the confectionery’s heart was diagnosed with cancer. After six years, she died a month ago.
“At least she knew about this decision,” says Lisa with tears in her eyes. “After all that hard work and all those long hours, she had finally had enough and knew this is not what we wanted for our kids either.” Since then, Yiorgo and one of Lisa’s sisters have been diagnosed with cancer too.
None of the family members knows what the future hold for them.
“We haven’t made any plans and it’s difficult to grasp the change, so for now, we’re just going to spend some time with our families and look to being healthy because at the end of the day that’s what makes everything worth it.”