Thursday, December 9, 2010
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
The Original Pappa of Pappas Pizza
The Original Pappas Pizza Owner / Filimon Sgouris
He sits on the couch with a paper towel perfectly rested along his big belly and on
top of that, a small ten inch anchovy and pepper pie, his favorite, with eight tiny slices. He picks up his very first slice and devourers it in almost one bite. He swallows, takes another bite of the crunchy crust and cracks a smile. After forty-eight years his recipe still tastes the same and he’s proud.
There are not many small businesses that survive these days with everything being bought out by bigger and better chains and franchises. The ones that tend to last are family owned and operated and that is why Filimon Sgouris’s business lasted to this day.
Filimon Sgouris is one of the many small business owners in Stamford Connecticut. As an immigrant of Greece he first came to this country in 1966 and worked his way up to finally owning his own pizzeria. Although he is now retired and leaves the management up to his oldest daughter, he still comes up to visit as often as he can from his new home in Florida and always is set up perfectly on the couch with his small pie, to once again indulge in his recipe.
He sits at the very last table of the tiny restaurant, the furthest one from the front door, the one where you are always in plain view of the entire store. The table right next to the door leading into the back room where the dough is made; the very same table where him and his wife sat with their three daughters and ate each of their meals. An elderly women walks through the front door of the pizzeria and up to the register to place her order. She glances to the far end of the store and the old man at the back table, leaning back in his chair with his hand shoved below his belt buckle catches her eye.
“Pappa,” she yells in excitement. “Where have you been?” She begins to walk down the narrow black and white checkered path way, parallel to the long counter and black stools leading to the back table, as Filimon slowly pick himself up from his seat to greet her with a warm hug. This is often the reaction of the many faithful costumers that have been coming to Pappas Pizza since the pies were sixty cents a pop. The costumers whose children, and their children’s children still come in and appreciate “The best pizza in Stamford,” says the elderly woman to Filimon. “Still the best Pappa,” she says. He tilts his head back and lets out a chuckle and with his thick Greek accent and such sincerity in his eyes says, “Thank you very much.”
“We lived above the pizzeria for crying out loud,” says Sue Sgouris, Filimon’s oldest daughter. “We couldn’t escape the business if we tried.”
After buying the pizzeria in 1972, along with it, Filimon bought the entire building above it. He, his wife, and his daughters lived and breathed the pizza business.
“I worked because I had to. We all did. My father couldn’t afford workers so he depended on his family,” says Sue.
Sue and her sisters spent the majority of their lives at the pizzeria. They ate almost every meal there, did homework there, and even at times slept there.
“I remember when my youngest sister Heide had her play pen set up in the back room. No one could watch her because we were all working so she had to be there,” says Sue.
Years past and soon enough Filimon was able to afford workers to help him in the pizza store. He trained them on how to make the dough, cut the cheese, slice the cold cuts, but not a word was said about his pizza sauce. Filimon’s sauce recipe was kept a secret and only he, his wife, and his daughters knew what went in it.
“Get out, he would tell the workers,” says Heide Sgouris, Filimon’s youngest daughter. “No one was to know that recipe but the family. He was always very serious about that, so we would always laugh when he would kick the workers out of the backroom.”
Filimon made a great name for himself in the town of Stamford through his good service, great family atmosphere, and terrific tasting pizza.
“The costumers loved to know that we were there,” says Sue. “Everyone loves a familiar face, but the pizza was what really sold.”
What kicked off Pappas Pizza were their small ten inch personal pies. They were a perfect size and exactly the right amount of slices to fill you up, but what really caught the attention of the costumers; was the use of white cheddar cheese instead of mozzarella. It gave the pizza a richer flavor and soon enough people were coming in from all parts of Stamford to try their sample of the Greek style pies.
Another elderly women walks through the front door of the pizzeria. “Let me get a small…” Filimon then yells from his back table at the end of the store, “Hamburger pizza very, very well done!” The woman glances at the end of the pizzeria in amazement. After all these years he still remembered her order and her face. “Hello Lucy,” says Filimon, grinning from ear to ear.
“My father gave everybody deals, he was always a sucker,” says Heide jokingly. “He always told me that if you cut them a deal here and there, they’ll always come back, and he was right because they always did.”
Soon familiar faces became regular costumers and the word was spread around Stamford about the generous Greek family and their delicious Greek style pizza. Even costumers who moved out of state would still come back to get some Pappas Pizza before returning home. The technique for these special costumers was to half cook their pies and then freeze them. When the costumers came to pick up their pies they would be ready to travel with them back home to cook in their oven.
“You can’t find pizza like this anywhere,” says Theresa, a faithful costumer since she was five years old. Theresa now lives in New York City but still always comes back to Connecticut if she ever feels like pizza. “Nothing tastes like Pappas,” she says.
Filimon established his restaurant with nothing in mind but him and his family, but what came along with it was a community that loved what he and his family made as much as they loved them.
“Everyone asks about Pappa,” says Juan Romero, one of the workers at Pappas Pizza. Juan worked along side Filimon and has been with the business for so long that he speaks Greek fluently. “I always remind them that he’s still around, just not living in Stamford anymore, but everybody gets such enjoyment when they see him here,” says Juan as he glances at Filimon at the back table. “They love him.”
When you build something from the ground up and you put, literally, everything you love in it, to see it still going strong after all these years must feel amazing. Filimon sits back at the very last table in the pizza store and calls out to each costumer as they walk in. Their reaction to him is priceless. Their smiling faces lets him know that he and his families have left behind a legacy that will never be forgotten by their community.By Elle Zopounidis , Grandaughter
He sits on the couch with a paper towel perfectly rested along his big belly and on
top of that, a small ten inch anchovy and pepper pie, his favorite, with eight tiny slices. He picks up his very first slice and devourers it in almost one bite. He swallows, takes another bite of the crunchy crust and cracks a smile. After forty-eight years his recipe still tastes the same and he’s proud.
There are not many small businesses that survive these days with everything being bought out by bigger and better chains and franchises. The ones that tend to last are family owned and operated and that is why Filimon Sgouris’s business lasted to this day.
Filimon Sgouris is one of the many small business owners in Stamford Connecticut. As an immigrant of Greece he first came to this country in 1966 and worked his way up to finally owning his own pizzeria. Although he is now retired and leaves the management up to his oldest daughter, he still comes up to visit as often as he can from his new home in Florida and always is set up perfectly on the couch with his small pie, to once again indulge in his recipe.
He sits at the very last table of the tiny restaurant, the furthest one from the front door, the one where you are always in plain view of the entire store. The table right next to the door leading into the back room where the dough is made; the very same table where him and his wife sat with their three daughters and ate each of their meals. An elderly women walks through the front door of the pizzeria and up to the register to place her order. She glances to the far end of the store and the old man at the back table, leaning back in his chair with his hand shoved below his belt buckle catches her eye.
“Pappa,” she yells in excitement. “Where have you been?” She begins to walk down the narrow black and white checkered path way, parallel to the long counter and black stools leading to the back table, as Filimon slowly pick himself up from his seat to greet her with a warm hug. This is often the reaction of the many faithful costumers that have been coming to Pappas Pizza since the pies were sixty cents a pop. The costumers whose children, and their children’s children still come in and appreciate “The best pizza in Stamford,” says the elderly woman to Filimon. “Still the best Pappa,” she says. He tilts his head back and lets out a chuckle and with his thick Greek accent and such sincerity in his eyes says, “Thank you very much.”
“We lived above the pizzeria for crying out loud,” says Sue Sgouris, Filimon’s oldest daughter. “We couldn’t escape the business if we tried.”
After buying the pizzeria in 1972, along with it, Filimon bought the entire building above it. He, his wife, and his daughters lived and breathed the pizza business.
“I worked because I had to. We all did. My father couldn’t afford workers so he depended on his family,” says Sue.
Sue and her sisters spent the majority of their lives at the pizzeria. They ate almost every meal there, did homework there, and even at times slept there.
“I remember when my youngest sister Heide had her play pen set up in the back room. No one could watch her because we were all working so she had to be there,” says Sue.
Years past and soon enough Filimon was able to afford workers to help him in the pizza store. He trained them on how to make the dough, cut the cheese, slice the cold cuts, but not a word was said about his pizza sauce. Filimon’s sauce recipe was kept a secret and only he, his wife, and his daughters knew what went in it.
“Get out, he would tell the workers,” says Heide Sgouris, Filimon’s youngest daughter. “No one was to know that recipe but the family. He was always very serious about that, so we would always laugh when he would kick the workers out of the backroom.”
Filimon made a great name for himself in the town of Stamford through his good service, great family atmosphere, and terrific tasting pizza.
“The costumers loved to know that we were there,” says Sue. “Everyone loves a familiar face, but the pizza was what really sold.”
What kicked off Pappas Pizza were their small ten inch personal pies. They were a perfect size and exactly the right amount of slices to fill you up, but what really caught the attention of the costumers; was the use of white cheddar cheese instead of mozzarella. It gave the pizza a richer flavor and soon enough people were coming in from all parts of Stamford to try their sample of the Greek style pies.
Another elderly women walks through the front door of the pizzeria. “Let me get a small…” Filimon then yells from his back table at the end of the store, “Hamburger pizza very, very well done!” The woman glances at the end of the pizzeria in amazement. After all these years he still remembered her order and her face. “Hello Lucy,” says Filimon, grinning from ear to ear.
“My father gave everybody deals, he was always a sucker,” says Heide jokingly. “He always told me that if you cut them a deal here and there, they’ll always come back, and he was right because they always did.”
Soon familiar faces became regular costumers and the word was spread around Stamford about the generous Greek family and their delicious Greek style pizza. Even costumers who moved out of state would still come back to get some Pappas Pizza before returning home. The technique for these special costumers was to half cook their pies and then freeze them. When the costumers came to pick up their pies they would be ready to travel with them back home to cook in their oven.
“You can’t find pizza like this anywhere,” says Theresa, a faithful costumer since she was five years old. Theresa now lives in New York City but still always comes back to Connecticut if she ever feels like pizza. “Nothing tastes like Pappas,” she says.
Filimon established his restaurant with nothing in mind but him and his family, but what came along with it was a community that loved what he and his family made as much as they loved them.
“Everyone asks about Pappa,” says Juan Romero, one of the workers at Pappas Pizza. Juan worked along side Filimon and has been with the business for so long that he speaks Greek fluently. “I always remind them that he’s still around, just not living in Stamford anymore, but everybody gets such enjoyment when they see him here,” says Juan as he glances at Filimon at the back table. “They love him.”
When you build something from the ground up and you put, literally, everything you love in it, to see it still going strong after all these years must feel amazing. Filimon sits back at the very last table in the pizza store and calls out to each costumer as they walk in. Their reaction to him is priceless. Their smiling faces lets him know that he and his families have left behind a legacy that will never be forgotten by their community.By Elle Zopounidis , Grandaughter
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