This is what Charlotte McCarty, Festival Chair of the Valley Greek Festival, said to me, “it’s about the food”.  And that is exactly right. At the VGF the food is art. It’s in Christo Halekakis’ hands as he pumps out hundreds of Greek Donuts; in the countenance of the Greek pastry queens Mary Costopoulos and Virginia Georgilas who began the process three months in advance; in the calamari, lamb chops, pork souvlaki—you name a VGF menu item and you have skill like you wouldn’t believe. 

                                Lamb Chops, grilled and served a la carte  

 With more than 500 volunteers the VGF in its 35^th year is beginning to look like a well-oiled machine: security up the wa-zoo, police vans, motorcycle cops, assembly lines for every one of those menu items. It is some serious orchestrating. BUT, before you start thinking that the VGF has become some sort of machine unconsciously turning out baklava and shish kebabs, think again.

       One of the usual faces at the Loukoumathes booth, John Halekakis serves up            some serious satisfcation

If you scratch a little at the surface, talk to some of the friendly faces handing you those oh so sweet honey donuts (or in a longer, harder word to pronounce, Loukomathes) then they’ll tell you their granddaughter is over in the ouzo tent, their son is cooking up some Greek sausages (a.k.a Loucanico), their neighbor is actually Father such-and such, and their Godmother is the woman behind the pastries.

                                             Proud Greek Dancers!

        Father Kezios' son, Trevon Kezios  (the voice of the VGF) and his daughter,             Mia, who we hope is taking notes 

 John McCarty, Anastasia Mickelson, and Leandros Themelis cooking up Loucanico, a Greek sausage cooked with orange rind and lemon juice 

          Behind the scenes: the assembly line preparing your Spanakopita Dinner

 To say it is a family affair would be an understatement. The VGF is a collective gathering of friends, family, and culture. Everywhere you look Greek tradition flourishes and permeates the some 50,000 visitors, and those visitors are smiling (could be from the ouzo) and crying Opa! with fervor. 

   If you're at the VGF on the last day, during the last few hours in the late afternoon then you'll see these guys, dancing up a storm after grilling your chicken and shish-kebab dinners: (forgive me guys if I screw this up) Christo, Dimitri, Stavros, Matt, and Kosta Iokim

                              Christo Halekakis, "As many as God allows" 

                       Virginia Georgilas and Mary Costopoulos, pastry royalty  

I asked the master Christos Halekakis how many Loukomathes he makes in a day, and he replied with a smile, “As many as God allows”, which I thought in response, “Please God, make him immortal”.Now with the baklava gone, those powdered sugar cookies that if you eat too fast and forget to breath through your nose, then you choke on the sugar—yeah with those gone too, the rest of the year looks bleak.

My leftovers have been eaten, and that hangover only ouzo can give has faded from memory. Four days later and I would like to amend my little thought. And perhaps include all of those lovely people at the VGF, from those young gents who after a long day of grilling, dance in their aprons, to the distinguished ladies (who I now revere as they oversee all 20+ volunteers and 40,000+ pastries), and everyone in between. Heck, why not make the VGF Monthly? Weekly? Daily? 

 But knowing my luck, I would suffocate on those powdered sugar cookies. So perhaps moderation is needed after all. I will just have to wait patiently until next Memorial Day weekend and do it all over again. Opa!

 BY LISKA JACOBS for YOU! and LA2DAY