I grew up in Queens, New York, with my younger brother, Dino; our Italian-American mom, Rosemarie; and our father, Thanasis, who came from the Greek village of Orchomenos. We were very traditional—Mom made the meals and the whole family gathered around the dinner table every night. But for parties and holidays, Dad always cooked, and he always went big. We’d welcome up to 60 guests to our celebrations, which often included a whole lamb, goat and pig all roasting on a spit, six different salads, cheese and spinach pies, and Greek pastries and cookies from the bakery.
My dad does it right, seasoning his dishes with lots of garlic, oregano, fresh black pepper, olive oil, red wine vinegar and mild and sharp feta, all imported from Greece. A couple of…
