Faces of Main Street: After Fire, Athens Grill Owner Rises From Ashes

It has been four months since a fire raged through the Athens Grill on East Main Street in Riverhead, gutting the business and giving owner John Mantzopoulos time to take stock and reflect on his life.

This past Saturday, Mantzopoulos, taking a break from helping his close friend and fellow Main Street business owner Ray Pickersgill with renovations to his salon, looked back at the past — and into the future.

To begin, Mantzopoulos answers the question burning on locals' minds: Yes, he will re-open the restaurant, hopefully, by April, but "smaller" than the Athens Grill, reminiscent of the footprint the eatery had when he first opened ten years ago. 

His goal is to offer affordable lunches for the professional crowd who frequent the nearby courthouse, but on weekends, "cull" a guest list of diners, for whom Mantzopoulos will prepare dinners, as always, featuring fresh, local produce and offerings, with members invited to feast on an ever-changing and evolving menu.

The Friday and Saturday night dinners will be advertised via a mailing list, with memberships and cards, similar to wine clubs, he said.

A focus on only the freshest, most local food harkens back to Mantzopoulos' roots, firmly entrenched in rich Greek soil.

Born in Athens, Mantzopoulos said he is "the last of the Mohicans," one of the last waves of Greek immigrants to seek new paths in the United States; the numbers peaked, he said, in the 80s.

Introspective, Mantzopoulos discusses, with quiet intellect, Greece's political struggles over the past decades, bringing the topics home when he describes his own family's move to America.

His family, Mantzopoulos said, has long been entwined in the food industry; his great-great uncle worked for the Waldorf Astoria in the early 1900s.

Growing up in a suburb of Athens, Mantzopoulos said his memories were of a simpler time. "We used to play three to six blocks away from our house, and those parents knew every kid. If you got out of line, those mothers would spank you. It was a big, extended family." 

Although they were not wealthy, as a child, Mantzopoulos said there was a greater appreciation for the toys they were given, because new playthings weren't handed over every day. And games of imagination, such as playing manhunt and pretending to be the Nazis and GIs the children saw in American comic books — "our version of cops and robbers" — stand out. 

And then there was the food. "We didn't have ovens," he said. "We couldn't afford cooktops. A local bakery would cook the food for you. Women would line up with trays of casseroles to be baked for the day. The man would have a pencil behind his ear and write down a number, and a time to pick up the food. I remember coming back, and the smells of all the different foods — the chicken and potatoes, the vegetables — and the bread, oh, my God."

The past four months have given Mantzopoulos time to look inward, at how much the drive to succeed motivates American culture, where "keeping up with the Joneses and having three cars" fuels an endless carousel of racing against the clock.

"But at what cost?" he asked. "Have you missed your kids' games? The sunrise in the morning? Have you missed the leaves dropping? After the fire, I had a little time to rethink things."

At first, the days after the fire were filled with angst; Mantzopoulos had to get used to not rushing off to the restaurant. Eventually, he began spending more time with his wife Histina and three children, getting more involved in the day-to-day minutiae of his three kids' lives, making them fresh, full breakfasts and learning the details.

"I went to my daughters' volleyball game and thought, 'When I opened the restaurant, she couldn't kick a ball.' I missed those things."

But, pragmatic, Mantzopoulos said a parent sometimes has to forego the little moments to ensure his kids' stability in the future, to be able to help with big-ticket memories such as college or a new home.

Over the past four months, Matzopoulos said he also spent a lot of time at the beach. "I'm a Greek boy at heart," he said. "A half dozen clams and a Corona. Simplicity."

Healthy, fresh, produce and fish, shopping personally at nearby purveyors — those are the tenets upon which Mantzopoulos, a chef who cooks for the people he serves, built his success.

Fifty percent of the health care challenges facing the United States, Mantzopoulos believes, could be eradicated with a new approach to food; less synthetics and "crap" and a focus on farm to table.

"It goes right back to government," he said.

From the time he arrived in Riverhead in 2004 and bought the restaurant, Mantzopoulos has brought his approach to diners.

Shopping for his menus, Mantzopoulos finds his leafy vegetables at Schmitt's in Riverhead and his fish at the Southold Fish Market, near his Greenport home. His favorite dishes, Mantzopoulos said, revolve around local seafood. 

As a chef, Mantzopoulos pours his heart into every dish ."I can never look at the business just as a business," he said. "You get to know the customers. It's something that's embedded in your character and your soul. You put your heart into it. I might not be a decorated chef at a four-star restaurant, but I cook for people."

Owning a restaurant, he said, means being "part server, part psychologist," with human emotion sometimes spilling over onto the dinner table. "I have fired customers," he said, asking them not to return after loud exchanges. "And everyone in the restaurant clapped."

As for times when he's been "grouchy" at the eatery, the chef said long, hot hours in a kitchen and a desire to create perfect, made-to-order fare sometimes tax emotions. "I take my work seriously," he said.

But his loyalty to longtime customers is infinite. On a woman's birthday, the chef will buy the woman not just dessert, but her whole dinner. "You can't think small," he said.

Mantzopoulos said it's not the amount of money earned, but the experience that matters. "If I can just make a couple of dollars, that's enough," he said.

Looking ahead, Mantzopoulos said it will be a "long, long road to re-opening," with county red tape and other mountains to scale. When asked about a new name previously discussed, Mazi, for the eatery, the chef said nothing is set in stone.

What he looks forward to most? "Just having my friends back at my bar."

But the important lesson to carry with him, Mantzopoulos said, is prioritizing. "If I can take care of my family in Greenport, and my restaurant family in Riverhead, I'll be well-balanced," he said.

Riverhead, he said, opened its hearts to him after the fire with fundraisers, something for which he will be forever grateful. And, as he helps his buddy Pickersgill renovate, Mantzopolous discussed the journey to downtown revitalization.

"It's a hard gig here on Main Street," he said, adding that businesses must support one another's successes, because via an "indirect market," customers may come back after an event or visit to the aquarium for a meal, months later. 

"It's not like tennis, one on one," he said, of Main Street business. "It's more like baseball or football. It's a team effort."