Behind the counter, a cook chops bell peppers, his knife banging loudly on the countertop. He grabs a bowl of beaten eggs and empties it onto the stove and goes back to cutting veggies. Another man scrapes chicken and pork, skewered on a revolving machine, onto a plate for gyros. The phone rings, but it's barely audible above the din. Someone answers while making change for a girl here with her friends between classes.
It's raining outside, but the body heat of students, University employees and neighborhood residents talking and laughing over chicken souvlakis, spanakopitas and salads keeps the place warm. As the cooks finish orders, someone else behind the counter calls out names: "Michael!" "Meela!" A crowd gathers, waiting for the food, served on white porcelain plates or in black plastic bins if the meal is "for here." "To-go" orders come in Styrofoam carry-out containers. A guy with a Jansport backpack and a psychology textbook collects his take-out from a young man with a thick Greek accent.
Near the center of a row of restaurants on 40th Street on the edge of Penn's campus, Greek Lady serves authentic fare from 11 a.m. to 11 p.m. Sunday through Wednesday and 11 a.m. to 3 a.m. Thursdays through Saturdays. Even its schedule makes it a college hangout; for Greek Lady, like for many Penn students, late-night hours start on Thursdays.
Maybe it's this effort to cater to students' lifestyles that makes Greek Lady one of the most popular restaurants on Penn's campus. Maybe it's the food that seems to draw more people here each day than to the eateries nearby. Maybe it's the friendly Greek family and their staff of friends, Philly residents and Penn students. Maybe it's the prices and the efficiency. Whatever it is, the Dimopoulos family, who has been serving Greek cuisine in the area since 1985, has somehow managed to create a Penn institution.
At meal times, the place is packed with students. When their orders come up, these Penn kids and others who frequent Greek Lady grab tables with their friends inside the restaurant or outdoors under the store's awning. One day, all the tables are full when two Penn police officers show up for lunch, so a student invites them to join him and his girlfriend. This is the Greek Lady norm: communal, casual, comfortable.
And inside the restaurant, her dark, highlighted hair pulled into a tight ponytail, grown-up Dimopoulos daughter Maria helps make it all happen. A regular presence at Greek Lady, Maria often scurries about the restaurant, refilling napkin dispensers, working the cash register and doing whatever she can to assist. She seems proud of the constant buzz and the success of the place, though when she speaks about the family business, it's in a matter-of-fact, cautious manner; she seems slightly skeptical and distrustful, as though she must be on guard, the protector of the Greek Lady.
Maria's brother, Dimitrios, the manager of both Greek Lady and the family's recent acquisition, a popular campus pizza place called Allegro's, talks about the company in financial terms. He says they purchased Allegro's because it was a good deal that came along, and the food choices are different enough at the two stores that business at one will not likely eat away at business at the other.
He doesn't speak of lofty goals of owning several restaurants or becoming a force to reckon with in the Philadelphia food scene. Dimitrios is well-reasoned, calm and focused. He seems sincere when he talks about his family's dedication and love for the Penn community, but while his parents describe their customers with joy, Dimitrios's discussion of Penn students, though complimentary, comes as part of his analysis of the financial success of the business.
Evidence of the restaurant's popularity rests in its appeal not only to students, but to adults who work and live in the area as well. One afternoon at the restaurant, a woman in Hospital at the University of Pennsylvania scrubs runs into a man she hasn't seen in years. Since they last met up, she has gone back to school and become a dental hygienist. He works for Bank of America. The company shirt he wears says "Higher Standards," and though that slogan could just as well describe Greek Lady, they're too modest here to write that on their polo shirts.
The Greek Lady staff strives for perfection and consistency, but in a low-key, come-hang-out-with-us kind of way. If the recent purchase of Allegro's is an indicator, the owners of Greek Lady might have interests in business expansion, but they keep the place personal, small town-like.
They know the customers and ask how they are. Very rarely does someone eat alone. Inside, the restaurant is loud, busy, energized. If a cook makes a mistake on an order, he apologizes and fixes it. During the busy lunch and dinner hours, as soon as customers stand up to leave, someone pushes a three-tiered cart toward the table and wipes it clean for the next group.
For Olga Dimopoulos, Maria and Dimitrios's mother, serving food to Penn students is nothing new. It's having her customers sit down and stay awhile that still excites her for its novelty. When the Dimopoulos family started renting the space on 40th Street three years ago, Olga already had years of experience running a smaller version of the enterprise.
In 1985, when the Dimopoulos family moved from Katerine, in the north of Greece, to Philadelphia "for the American dream," Olga rented a food cart and sold Greek fare to those who passed by her stand at 37th and Spruce Streets. Though Olga had plenty of experience preparing food as a homemaker in Greece, her business was not born out of a passion for cooking; she simply needed to make money to help her husband Christos, who worked a job in construction, to support their family.
To this day, even with the success of the restaurant, the Dimopouloses have not romanticized their tale. When asked why she thinks her business, which expanded to a larger food cart and eventually to the restaurant space in 2003, has done so well, Olga shrugs her shoulders and grins, then replies quickly, the answer obvious to her: "I like to do work. The family is together, working hard."
That spirit helped attract the regular crowd who came to her food cart when she opened it in the 1980s. In fact, her stand became so popular among Wharton MBA students that at lunchtime they would head over to the nameless cart run by "that Greek lady." It was this following that gave Olga's business the name that stuck even when it acquired the much larger space it now inhabits. The personification of her store's name, Olga, in a blue Greek Lady polo shirt and blue pants, her thick curly black hair held back by a plastic headband, embodies her role as the Greek Lady well.
She is warm and kind, friendly with a constant smile. Though she understands and speaks English, she sometimes asks Dimitrios to translate for her. Together they explain that as the Greek Lady's restaurant has grown in size, her menu offerings have also increased to a wider variety of gyros and salads. Yet even as the location has shifted, the company's goal has remained the same: to serve authentic Greek fast food.
Dimitrios seems proud when he says that Greek Lady is the only restaurant in Philadelphia making authentic pork gyros. To keep the menu legitimate, when the family members go home to Greece to visit relatives, they notice the trends in the local restaurants and try to bring new culinary concepts back to Greek Lady.
Christos has left construction and now helps out at Greek Lady, taking care of many of the behind-the-scenes operations, including working with vendors and dealing with food preparation. Like his wife, he has a warm, chuckling gaze and kind eyes. He looks intent and prideful when talking about his father and grandfather, who both worked in the restaurant business back home in Greece.
Christos and Olga act as the hospitable, welcoming, trusting generation of the Dimopoulos family. They seem genuinely happy to come to Penn's campus from their home in Upper Darby each day and serve authentic Greek fare. Beyond her obvious work ethic, Olga also attributes the success of her restaurant to the love she always uses to cook her food.
Christos and Olga's sweetness seems to contrast with the more business-like dispositions of their children. While these differences may simply reflect the personalities of the various members of the Dimopoulos family, the disparity in their interactions seems to fit in well with the family's differentiation of roles, as if these patterns of behavior are intentionally devised, part of the business plan.
Maria and Dimitrios are the future of Greek Lady; they care about growing the company, maintaining a base of regulars, earning an income. And as Dimitrios admits openly, they're not shy about advertising widely, with leaflets in The Daily Pennsylvanian and constant ads around campus.
Yet when many students think about Greek Lady, it's the restaurant's friendly and welcoming nature and excellent customer service that intrigues them the most. In large part, that's where Olga and Christos come in. It is their desire and ability to connect with customers, combined with their children's efficiency in managing the company, that together have brought the Dimopoulos family campus fame. They have attracted regular customers who love the place for its food and prices, of course, but also for the friendliness of its staff.
Here, the egg and cheese - a fried egg and melted cheese sandwiched between two pieces of bread - tastes exactly as it should; it is greasy and gooey, with cheese oozing out of the egg, which refuses to conform to the shape of the bread. It's gone in 10 minutes, but it's filling, and for $3.25, it's a deal compared to the on-campus dining hall food.
The egg and cheese is like everything at Greek Lady: you get what you expect. The food tastes good, the staff is friendly, it's open late. There are no surprises. As Dimitrios points out, the food always has to be the same and be delicious; one bad night and they've lost a customer.
The whole experience is a lot like summer camp. Everyone waits in line attentively, eagerly, patiently. Most people know what they want when they get there. Customers can peruse printed menus sitting on the countertop, but there is no menu posted on the wall. The cooks dice, pour, stir, spread, and scrape while the cashiers take money, make change, answer food, announce orders.
Austin Lavin worked at Greek Lady last year as a senior at Penn. Before that, as a regular at Greek Lady he became friendly with the Dimopoulos family. Once, while eating at the restaurant, Austin lamented to Christos that he had lost his wallet. Christos immediately offered Austin $100 to get him through the week. It's that care for the customers that brings Greek Lady such success, says Austin.
They deliver quality customer service, a predictable, satisfying menu, reasonable prices, and efficiency for students who want some good, affordable food between classes or for a quick dinner. And the Dimopoulos family doesn't just hire anyone, says Austin. Their employees are family friends and Penn students who, as regulars at the restaurant, have come to know the family well. Behind the counter, these employees seem like a unit, a team.
Even as they chop vegetables, lay strips of bacon on simmering eggs, and slap meat between bread, they often joke around, laugh with one another, take a moment to say hi to a customer. This sense of camaraderie translates to the customers as well, creating a Greek Lady vibe that makes people come back.
Twelve customers wait in line to order at 12:30 on a Thursday afternoon. On a shelf behind the counter and above the stove sit vats of ketchup and oil. Vases with fake flowers serve as decoration for each table. The door is open, so some flies come in too. Between bites of food, customers get up to grab a handful of napkins, refill their sodas, or take another fork from the table toward the back of the store.
The restaurant is easy to navigate, convenient, predictable. Right now it's crowded and noisy, but somehow it still feels welcoming, inviting. The tables turn over quickly as students head to class and community members go back to work. For the Dimopoulos family and everyone behind the counter, however, work has only just begun for the day.
They still have many vegetables to cook and sandwiches to prepare, orders to take and phones to answer, tables to clear and customers to greet, and they couldn't be more grateful for it all.
