Kipos means garden in Greek. Kipos is a reflection of my childhood: fresh and robust village foods cooked in wood-burning ovens, honoring old and modern recipes alike. It’s a remembrance of my mother’s masterful way with phyllo. It’s a celebration of cheese, breads, mousaka and lamb youvetsi. It’s a story about octopus grilled over a fire and the perfect dolmades. It’s about my love for her youvarelakia, her rabbit stifado and the aroma of lamb roasting over an open fire. It’s about her chicken and potatoes. Kipos is a tale of baked eggplant, a perfect village salad, kakavia soup and my favorite, zucchini blossoms and fresh cheese. And of course we can’t forget the baklava, honey walnut cakes and spoon sweets. But above all, Kipos is a story about the love and joy that my parents, Panagiota and Nikos shared. Working the fields heroically, enduring, so that one day my brothers, Yianni and Terry, my sister Olga and I could realize the American dream. We became one with the garden, with the olives, with the grapes. We became one with the fields and the mountains that were covered with wild oregano. We gathered animals, both wild and tamed. Nature nourished us with her abundance, with her goodness. This is what we want to share with you at Kipos: cooking from the memory of my heart.