A Golden Jubilee and ‘another 50 to go’: The enduring soul of Bridge Road’s favourite deli

I won’t say I don’t get excited about new restaurants but if you really want to reel me in, tell me about a place that’s been looking after its community for 10 years. Or 20. Or, in the case of Richmond’s Laikon Deli, an astonishing half century.

When the place opened in 1976, the suburb’s large Greek population quickly came to rely upon it for supplies. (The name Laikon translates roughly as “for the people”.) They’d come for olive oil, otherwise more likely to be found in chemist shops where it was sold as a skin balm. Feta was submerged in big briny barrels and families would buy two kilograms at a time, just enough to get them through ’til next Saturday. Shoppers would chat with neighbours while owner John Manolis sliced the kilo of ham they’d need for a week’s worth of kids’ lunches. Sacks of dry beans were propped here and there, ready to be scooped and paper-bagged to turn into soups and stews.

You can feel the history in the air, even though these are different times. The shop is now run by Jon Pandoleon, the third generation in the family to steward the ship. His parents, Michael and Cathy, took over in 1981 when he was a baby.

“Jon would sit behind the counter,” remembers Cathy, now retired but still in the shop every day, drinking coffee, greeting patrons and staff like family. “If he threw away his dummy, a customer would pick it up and give it back to him. Everyone was a friend.”

Later, Jon was there sweeping up and packing nuts and, after studying physiotherapy, he thought he’d give the deli a try for a year to take the load off his folks. That was 23 years ago.

Pandoleon has changed the place, and there are tweaks happening all the time. You don’t hang about for five decades if you’re relying purely on nostalgia. The deli range is broader, encompassing meats, cheeses and preserves from Spain, Italy, France, and even Australia, as well as Greece. The display is careful and colourful, a visual feast for picky wanderers, rather than crammed with items for those with a list and a keen sense of purpose.

Because we’re so busy these days, there are take-home meals (a tub of spaghetti and meatballs, please) and a sandwich counter to order lunch al desko (you can’t do better than Mr Simple, a ham, cheese and tomato toastie perked up with pickles).

The biggest change of all came in 2018, when the deli expanded into the shop next door to add a sit-down cafe. It’s a lovely space with great light and genial service, nice for catch-ups and solo snacks but also bookable for your next function.

It’s where you might eat one of the best spanokopitas in town, with an excellent ratio of crunchy filo to spinach and cheese, or a souvlaki of juicy herbed chicken brightened with tzatziki and red onion.

The family will celebrate the 50-year milestone throughout the year, opening as a wine bar every Friday night (from April 24) with deli snacks turned into drink-friendly bites. On Saturdays, monthly music evenings kick off on May 30 with a Greek blues band.

It’s the daily business that is the soul of Laikon, though, whether it’s a third-generation customer swinging by for a box of custardy, icing-sugar-dusted bougatsa; local workers planning their week around a Friday souv; or someone like me, sitting down with a wholesome claypot of giant butter beans in tomatoey gravy with black olives, a poached egg and a sprinkling of crumbly feta.

Even better than the food is to overhear Pandoleon telling regulars that the golden jubilee is meaningful, sure, but it’s not a swansong. “There’s another 50 to go,” he says.

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