That's Greek to Me

Last weekend, in an ongoing effort to get out and experience all that Middle TN has to offer, I drug my husband to the 23rd Annual Greek Festival in Nashville.  I had been looking forward to the festivities for weeks.  Or however long it had been since they had posted the advertisement on one of the bus stop benches I pass on my daily commute into the city.  And, by "pass" read "sit in grid locked traffic long enough to read the fine print, memorize the address of the Greek Orthodox Church and wonder how anyone could be so rude as to leave a piece of gum on a public piece of furniture where people will be seating".

At any rate, the weather was perfect that day and I spent our entire ride up reading aloud the Greek Festival Menu on my new phone (which I swear could land planes, and yet I can't seem to figure out how to make a simple call without having to touch 4 icons first, but that is another story all its own) which I found while mapquesting the address to the church... had they posted a map on the bench, I could have memorized that too.  

We paid our $2 entrance fee (isn't that great!) and arrived at the festival just in time to see a group of kids called the OPA Dancers finishing up their performance.  After visiting a multitude of tents offering an array of Mediterranean cuisine, I ended up with a small appetizer including one Dolmade (vegetarian stuffed grape leaves), Spanikopita (spinach and cheese trangle pastry made with layers of fillo dough), and Tiropita (cheese triangle pastry made with layers of fillo dough) along with a Classic Gyro (thin slices of specially seasoned lamb and beef with lettuce, tomatoes and onion served on pita bread and topped with tzatziki sauce), it was excellent!  My husband had a Greek style sausage Gyro served with a side of greek fries all of which cost about $13.  While we ate, we watched another troup of dancers called the Palamakia dancers(teenagers this time) perform.  Clapping along to traditional Greek folk songs and being instructed to yell "OPA" every now and again is enough to make me wish I was Greek... or at least come home and watch "My Big Fat Greek Wedding" as that will most likely be as close as I will ever come.

Once the performance was over, we were on our way to the "Groceria" located in the church Fellowship Hall... at least that is what the Baptists would call it.  Not sure about the Greek Orthodox Church, but you get the idea.

In the corner they had a little area set up so that visitors could purchase greek pastries like Baklava, Diples, and Flogeres along with specialty cheeses, Baklava Cheesecake, and loaves of bread.  They even had a stainless steel refrigerator in the corner filled with goodies. 

I had read on the menu that greek yogurt would be available, but did not see it in the "cooler section".  So when I heard another customer asking for the yogurt, my ears perked up.  As soon as the woman at the register called back into the kitchen, "Peter, this woman wants yogurt," a small senior gentleman emerge from a room behind her divided by a simple sheet hanging in the doorway.  He shuffled his way across the floor wearing navy blue dress pants with a red and blue plaid shirt and gray New Balance tennis shoes.  As he walked passed me, I noticed that we were similar in height... I am 5'1" but probably closer to 5'3" that day with my sandles on.  He stopped at the refridgerator, opened the door, and pulled out what looked like one of the kitchen prep containers from my old college waitressing days.  It was a tall, clear, gallon size container (I am guessing here) with a red plastic lid that once removed, revealed what looked like sour cream. 

I, along with several other people who were as equally intrigued by what this process might include, stood watching as this sweet little man took an ice cream scooper to dip the thickest yogurt I have ever seen into a plastic bowl.  It looked incredible, but I am not a fan of plain greek yogurt (my Chobani Greek Yogurt that I buy from the store has fun fruit flavors in the bottom and is yummy!).  The woman who had originally requested the dish was now standing next to me with a friend who, even before this moment, was proving to be a "Debbie Downer" in what was otherwise an enjoyable atmosphere.  As her friend encouraged her to try the yogurt, I could hear Debbie Downer saying that it was "exactly like the stuff she buys at the grocery store" and why would she "pay for what she already has at home".  As I mentioned, I too buy greek yogurt at the store, but I can assure you that this was nothing like what I eat out of my tiny plastic container with the lid peeled back.  This looked like vanilla ice cream and I could only think how excellent it must be if it tasted even half as good as it looked.  Once he had the yogurt in the bowl, he took a small squeezable container of honey and drizzled it on top of the yogurt which made it look like a double scoop of rich vanilla ice cream with caramel on top.  He finished it off with a dab of strawberry puree which she had requested he put on the side.  Seeing the annoyance Debbie was causing her friend who was obviously trying to get in the spirit of the groceria, I (being the socially instrusive person I am which, unfortunately, usually leads to moments of embarrassment for my husband) remarked that I didn't think it looked like what was in my refridgerator and that it looked much more authentic than the greek yogurt I often find at the store.  In order to further drive home my point, I turned to the senior citizen, still scooping yogurt, and asked "who makes the yogurt?"  He stopped what he was doing, turned to me, and in a small, slightly shaky voice with a detectable greek accent simply replied "the women". 

There was no way I was going to walk out of there without yogurt after that.  I ordered my own bowl of yogurt and when asked if I wanted mine like the previous woman had requested, I told him to make it however he wanted and that I trusted his judgement to which he replied sweetly "I'll make it fancy".  Fancy it was and even more so, the best yogurt I have ever had!  I was really surprised at how well the tang of the yogurt went so well with the sweetness of the honey and strawberry flavors.  It had even won over Debbie who I commented to on my way out as to how delicious it was, she agreed and followed up by saying that she wished he would have put more honey on hers.  Good grief.

"The women", I told my husband as we made our way down the sidewalk outside, can you believe that?  They could have bought Dannon Yogurt, emptied it into a prep container, given the cutest little man at their church an ice cream scooper, some honey and a bottle of strawberry puree and still sold them like hot cakes.  As we were leaving, we passed a mother with her two small children coming into the festival.  "Look kids", she said, "they have ice cream", "where" replied one of them, "I don't know, but I saw that woman eating some" she answered as she continued to drag them down the sidewalk towards the building we had just exited.  "Well that's going to be a let down" my husband said once we were out of listening distance of the family.  Although it was delicious, I can not fathom the disappointment of a child expecting ice cream only to get yogurt with honey.  Maybe they were as pleasantly surprised as Debbie was.