A Taste of Greece

Last week, I revisited a Greek café I’d gone to the week before. The first time I went, I went purely for research for a chapter in my book covering Greece. Since I know next to nothing about Greece, I decided to find my entry point through taste. The first time I’d gone, I’d planned it safe, bought a freddo cappuccino for myself and a mocha latte for my husband, while my husband bought a lemon poundcake for himself and a baklava for me.

I had already done my research and knew that freddo cappuccino was a must and that it would be something I or my character would try in Greece (I’m a major coffee drinker). But we came right as they were closing, so there was the co-owner, a powerful Greek man of few words with a kind spirit named Tasos, and a young man whose name I did not get. We quickly made our purchase, dove into the afternoon traffic, and made a pit stop at my mother-in-law's house.

My mistake was this—I didn’t give myself time to sit and enjoy the drink. I sipped on it as my husband zig-zagged through traffic while I grabbed his phone to place a quick pick-up order for his mom, and I rushed through an experience that should not have been rushed—my bad. The coffee was different, that’s all I knew, but different how? I couldn’t express it.

So, I went back, this time on my own, and when I arrived, the café was crowded. I’d barely been able to find a parking spot, but I was determined and had said aloud as I entered the lot, “The perfect parking spot is waiting for me.” Coincidence or not, as I rounded the corner, I spotted a spot, and I very confidently reversed into it (a feat for me, because I hate reverse parking).

Back to the café. It was loud. It was intimidating. The tables were small squares and circles arranged to maximize the seating area, but everyone was so close to each other. I’m an introvert, so close is a no-no for me.

But I also noticed something else. The café was full of warmth and love. Young professionals of various backgrounds were having intellectual conversations here, another table having a simple coffee date, a family enjoying the delicious pastries, and just a general vibe of community. I thought that was interesting. The café was small and modern with gleaming white surfaces and neutral brown tones, with a pop of red brick here and there. The chairs were hybrids of the wicker and wood variants, pieces you’d see in an outdoor café—and I believe that vibe is intentional, to re-create the feel of experiencing Greece while next to the sea. The cutest pastries and cakes were on display, too.

Seeing the pastries, I immediately overcame my introversion and focused on a glorious lemon tart and a Chantilly cake. I couldn’t choose.

While immersed in my inner debate, a warm woman with blond hair and a bright smile asked what she could get me. I was still stuck and went through my entire thought process with her. She gave me options—choose the Chantilly cake for this or choose the lemon tart for that; and her descriptions were so good, I knew I couldn’t choose. In the end, I chose both, and that tickled her. But the life-changing moment (I still don’t understand why I refer to it as life-changing) happened when I asked if she was Patricia (the co-owner and wife of Tasos), the woman with the cooking show (I’d done research before coming the second time). She said that she was, but the show wasn’t being broadcast to the public.

She was so easy to talk to, I couldn’t resist my next question: “Can I ask you a few questions about Greece?”

To my surprise, she said yes. Why I’m surprised she said yes, I have no idea. But what I thought would be a quick interview turned into an hour of me witnessing her love for Greece and her love for community. We stopped the interview several times as she juggled both work and my questions, something I truly appreciate- and I had the opportunity to see her interact with her customers. No wonder the café was busy! Her and her husband’s café was a home, because they made it feel as such.

We delved into the sacred triangle of Greece. Patricia pointed out the party island for foreigners and the retreat island for Greeks. She also told me about the scents of Greece—a tomato there is not the same as a tomato here, it’s much more fragrant. She expressed the blueness of the water, it’s bluer than I can ever imagine, and I must see it in person. And the cherry on top, she pulled out a bottle of ouzo for me to try and painted an enthralling picture of sipping ouzo after eating a lunch or dinner of seafood in a Greek café by the sea.

Side note: Ouzo is not for me, lol, but the experience of tasting it was invaluable, and I sincerely appreciate the opportunity. Yes, it tastes like black licorice.

I told Patricia about my book, the vision, the random but not-so-random excursion the characters take in Greece. She encouraged me, fed into the dream of me publishing my first book—a sci-fi fantasy novel about a black woman healing from narcissistic abuse. I felt so much hope and wonder, and I knew I’d have to see Greece for myself someday.

Between moments of talking, I slowed down to sip my freddo cappuccino, and I fully appreciated the chocolate undertones. Patricia also pointed out the difference between Greek coffee and Italian coffee—Greeks prefer smaller amounts of coffee with less milk. I could see and taste the difference…I certainly love a milky latte, but a freddo cappuccino is a nice change, too.

By the time I left, I had so much information and food--I’d also decided to buy the Pastitsio meal—baked Greek lasagna with a side of salad, Greek vinaigrette, pita bread, and tzatziki sauce.

And because I experienced this amazing moment, I wanted to share it with someone else. Have you ever had an experience like this at a restaurant? Or in general? A moment of wonder that, to the outside looking in, appears ordinary yet is not?

In the hours leading up to my impromptu trip to the restaurant, I’d meditated, and the image of the building popped up in my head. What would I find there? Was it important? Was this a gentle mental nudge? And yes, it was. There were some things I was struggling with in the Greek chapter, and as I talked to Patricia, the problems began to solve themselves!

Maybe you’re not writing a chapter about a Greek excurse…but if you’re ever in Houston and would like to try the café and meet Tasos and Patricia yourself, visit Anonymous Café.

Have the best day ever!