Kosta

Let me paint the scene for me. Chios was the start of a larger three family trip to Greece, but it started off with just my brother, mother and I on the island of Chios, the island my maternal grandmother, γιαγιά (pronounced giagiá), is from. My mother hadn’t been to Greece in 42 years, which is when she met my father and came to Chios specifically. It was my brother’s and my first time visiting and we knew this was bound to be a very special part of the trip. During COVID I decided to start learning Greek on Duolingo and eventually started working with a tutor for an hour, once a week and sometimes skipping here and there due to my schedule:/ Leading up to the trip though I was diligent as I knew if we needed to speak Greek, my infant Greek proficiency and my mother’s kindergarten proficiency would be enough to make us one average Pre-K, child, παιδί (pronounced paidí).

As the foodies that we are, as a family we had noted some restaurants that we couldn’t leave without going to. One of those restaurants was called To Liladi- Porta Maggiore, and it was in the kastro walls. We decided to go our first night as it was in walking distance of where we were staying. To say we had a difficult time getting there is an understatement. We used every navigation system known to man. We knew we were close, but we were still outside the kastro walls. One of the routes had scaffolding, the other took us in circles. After about 10 minutes in the hamster wheel, I picked up the phone and called the restaurant. Kosta answered the phone. Kosta spoke about as good of English as my mother spoke Greek. Between his broken English and my broken Greek within a few minutes what I gathered was for us to stay where we were and that he would come get us. No sooner did I convey Kosta’s last message to my mom and brother, there he was; Kosta arrived through an archway on a bicycle. Mind you the ground beneath him was a very uneven cobble stone of sorts and uneven slabs of slate dating back to the 10th or 11th century. We couldn’t believe it. This kid, barely 18 came to get us to take us to the restaurant he worked at. We ‘s’ed our way through the paths of the caste wall to the little restaurant. It was a local spot. Perfect – this is what we were hoping for.

Make it stand out

Kosta arriving through the walls of the kastro to lead us to To Liladi- Porta Maggiore

Handwritten menu at To Liladi- Porta Maggiore.

We sat down at a little table and were handed the handwritten menus. Yes, each menu was handwritten. We were transported back in time. Kosta spent his whole night waiting on our table, suggesting menu items like fried mastelo, native to the island of Chios. We had no idea. It is like halloumi, except less squeaky like some halloumi can be. It’s creamy. In my opinion it’s the luxurious version of halloumi. It’s hard to find so if you see it; get it.

Back to Kosta.

The warmth you could feel from Kosta was palpable. He tried so hard to share as much as he could about the Chios of today and his personal aspirations in the tech industry which my brother and I latched onto and told him, if he ever needed anything how to contact us. We were the same as him; treating this complete stranger as if he was our cousin. I have no doubts that Kosta will do well in life; leave the island to pursue his passion in technology in technology.

Halloumi of Chios

I dream about this cheese. I search high and low for it in Greek markets in the states, and have only found it once. It is hard to come by.

The warmth you could feel from Kosta was palpable. He tried so hard to share as much as he could about the Chios of today and his personal aspirations in the tech industry which my brother and I latched onto and told him, if he ever needed anything how to contact us. We were the same as him; treating this complete stranger as if he was our cousin. I have no doubts that Kosta will do well in life; leave the island to pursue his passion in technology in technology.