I was raised by immigrant parents who came to this country with the courage to try something new. We were post-war babies, a generation that saw a surge of entrepreneurs—people who persevered, became educated, and built businesses rooted in resilience. My parents, one a banker and the other an engineer, embodied that spirit and started their own businesses. Growing up, entrepreneurship was all I knew.
For me, the journey began in education. I earned my master’s degree, pursued doctoral work, and worked with youth. However, I knew I didn’t want to work in the public school system. That’s how Little Owl was born—out of a desire to create enrichment opportunities tailored to children’s unique needs, encouraging creativity and growth in ways that traditional systems often can’t.
My husband, who has a background in the food industry, and I share a deep connection to our culture and its rich culinary traditions. Family recipes, filled with history, are at the heart of our celebrations. A long-time dream of ours was to one day open a gourmet market, featuring these recipes and the stories behind them. During the COVID-19 pandemic, an opportunity arose—a space became available. Despite the uncertainty of the times, we took the leap. Entrepreneurship, after all, was second nature to us. Today, that market has become a vibrant part of our community.
At Little Owl, I get to work with kids—the best and most honest teachers in life. My role there is to be part of their journeys. Maybe, twenty years from now, one of them will reflect on something they learned, something small I taught them, and see how it shaped their approach to problem-solving, communication, or resilience. Perhaps I’ll have been the one to lift their spirits on a difficult day or deepen their trust in mentors and teachers.
Meanwhile, at the market, I get to bring people joy through food. For us, food is love, steeped in culture and history. It’s fascinating how ingredients tell the stories of their origins. For example, desserts made with walnuts or almonds trace back to mountainous regions, where those trees thrived. Shredded filo dough? That’s a product of the Turkish occupation, while Greek recipes often call for sheets of filo. Sharing these stories allows me to connect with people on a deeper level.
One of the joys of the market is the way it brings people together, whether it’s Italians who recognize familiar dishes and exclaim, ‘Una faccia, una razza!’—‘One face, one race!’—or newcomers curious about the cuisine, asking how to eat something or what it means. These conversations are my way of sharing pieces of my heritage, of creating bridges between cultures.
A Passion for Education
In 2014, I joined the local Education Foundation, which has become an incredibly meaningful part of my life. One of our early projects was funding the aquaponics system at your school—everything from the structure to the equipment was made possible through the foundation. We’ve also helped with large-group initiatives, laptops, and are now working on a brand-new STEAM lab.
Public school budgets often don’t have room for ambitious, hands-on projects like aquaponics. But through the foundation, we can provide those opportunities. Who knows? Maybe that system will inspire someone to become a biologist focused on food sustainability. For me, education is about opening doors to new experiences and showing young people the potential to achieve great things.
Education is essential for growth. Traditional schooling lays the foundation, but what you do with that knowledge afterward determines your path. Without learning, we risk repeating the same mistakes. Innovation and creativity are critical—not just to individual success, but to the evolution of society as a whole. That’s why programs like STEAM are so vital. They encourage young minds to think outside the box, embrace resources, and push the boundaries of what’s possible.
Ms. Penny Ftikas
Challenges and Change
In a small, historic community like Cranbury, being new is sometimes the hardest part. This town has been home to generations of families, so change can feel intimidating. But I believe the key to overcoming that is showing people you genuinely want to be part of the community.
COVID-19 was by far the biggest challenge for both our businesses—Little Owl and the market. But the outpouring of support from the Cranbury community made all the difference. Thanks to that, we’re still here, and for that, we’re deeply grateful.
Over the past 12 years, I’ve seen Cranbury change tremendously, especially in terms of diversity. When we first moved here, it didn’t feel very diverse at all. But in the past six or seven years, the community has become a much better reflection of the world outside. That’s been wonderful to witness, both as a resident and as a parent.
As a parent, my biggest concern about raising children in Cranbury was the possibility of them growing up in a bubble. This is a safe, tight-knit community where kids can walk down Main Street to get ice cream, but the outside world isn’t always like that. My husband and I made a point of taking our kids out of town regularly so they could experience a more diverse array of people and perspectives. Thankfully, the town has evolved, and today it’s a better representation of American society.
Finding Your Thing
I believe everyone has their ‘thing.’ Maybe it’s creativity on the field as an athlete or artistry with a pencil. For me, my ‘thing’ is people. I’m a doer, someone who thrives on being a resource for those around me. Whether it’s making my community better, deepening a friendship, or creating a memorable experience, I’m ready to roll. That’s how I was raised—to think differently, embrace challenges, and create opportunities where none existed before.
At the end of the day, it’s about leaving things better than you found them—whether that’s through food, education, or community. That’s how we grow together.