Best Damn Gyro Ever?

A simple story about a gyro and it's ironic (but not so laconic) maker...

Several weeks ago, needing a quick lunch while running errands, I stopped at a little sub shop in a nearby shopping center. I was pleased to see that this little shop also offered gyros, in three different sizes no less, ranging in price from $3 to $7.50. I took a gamble that the $3 size and a drink would be enough to satisfy me. 

Although there were only about 5 other people in the place when I arrived, my simple order took over half an hour to arrive, and by the time it came, I was annoyed.


Then I bit into that gyro, and it was the best damn gyro I’d ever eaten. The gyro meat and sauce were flavorful, the veggies were fresh, and the pita was perfectly grilled. I immediately forgave the talkative cook/co-owner who made it for me for taking so long.  

Fast forward to this week, when I stopped by again, craving that delicious gyro. There was the same talkative cook and only one other customer in the joint. The cook was sitting in the booth beside the lone customer, railing on about something. 

Surprisingly, when I walked in the cook immediately said he remembered me from Mother's Day (I wasn't actually there), declared that he liked me and would take care of me (my order, that is). 


I had about 45 minutes for lunch before I had to pick up my children from their summer program and get back to work. Remembering that the cook liked to move leisurely, I let him know in a friendly way that I only had a short time to eat. No problem, as long as I knew what I wanted, he assured me, I would get in and out in plenty of time. 

No problem on my part then  -- I knew I wanted another taste of that $3 gyro and, since the gyro was so cheap, I could afford to treat myself to the good-looking french fries I had seen his other patrons chowing down on during my last visit. Maybe even get a dessert, too.

But no, he said. He didn’t have the $3 size pita bread in. He only had the $7.50 size.  “Okay,” I said, “just cut it in two for me, and I’ll save the other half for my lunch tomorrow. No, he said, he couldn’t do that. Instead, he’d just make two small gyros. 

Confused, I grabbed a black cherry soda out of the cooler across from the grill and sat down, anticipating that delicious gyro. I reiterated that I needed to leave shortly, and hearing a fresh plop and the sizzle of more meat on the grill, was content that my gyro would be on its way to me soon.

I waited. The lone other patron sitting next to me waited. We chatted. I asked him what he ordered. A philly cheese steak, he said. The cook chatted with the man, too, as he seemed to putter around his “kitchen.” His cooking area and the refrigerator where he stored all the condiments and sandwich veggies were inefficiently across the room from each other. He walked back and forth from the kitchen to the fridge, talking all the while as he went.

When I told him that I came back to his place because that last gyro was the best I’d ever eaten, he let open the floodgates. He’d been cooking since he was a kid, and was as good as any chef before he had reached his teens, he advised. He wouldn’t hire anyone in his place to help him in this kitchen, because he was a perfectionist, and no one would do things the way he wanted. Plus, all the people that applied for jobs with him seemed too lazy, and they would undoubtedly talk too much and drive him crazy. He couldn’t handle it, he said. No. No way would he ever hire these people who came to him seeking a job.  They would just drive him crazy.

Sometimes, he said, even his own customers drove him crazy.  They wanted their food too fast; they couldn’t make up their minds what they wanted to eat. They were like little children. He didn’t have to like them. But not to worry, he liked me, and the gentleman who was still waiting patiently for his philly steak sandwich.

I looked at my ipod. The minutes were going by and I was getting worried. Neither my sandwich nor the gentleman’s seemed to be arriving anytime soon. I reminded the cook, now steamed up by his own conversation, that I needed to leave within the next 25 minutes at the most – my kids were waiting.  He assured both me and the gentleman that the food was coming out in just a moment.

We waited. He talked. He was a great chef, he said. He used only the best ingredients. Like real steak for the philly steak, and cucumbers and tomatoes fresh from the garden. Not just anyone could do what he did, he said.


Hoping to get his juices flowing enough to move a bit faster, I asked him if he liked the Bravo reality show, “Top Chef.” “Yes,” he said. He particularly like the “Quick Fire” challenges. “The Quick Fires show who the real chefs are. Real chefs do not have assistants, and they do not cut themselves, ever. Not ever.” He walked across the room to get some items from the refrigerators and headed back to the kitchen, talking the entire time. He had opinions about everything.

At some point, he finally handed the man next to me his philly steak sub. The man jumped up and, with payment already on the table, bolted out of the shop. I was left still waiting. 


Not to worry though, I thought, surely if the other guy had his sandwich, mine would also be handed to me momentarily. After all, I had heard it sizzling on the grill. A couple minutes later, when it still had not arrived, I reminded the man again that I had to leave. No problem, he said, he would have it for me in just a couple minutes. Then more meat hit the grill. Almost 40 minutes had passed and he was just now cooking my food!

A few more minutes passed. I got up from my seat to see what he was doing. He was chopping the lettuce and the tomato. I informed him that it was so late now, that I would have to take my order to go. I was hoping to eat it there while it was still hot, but I’d take it to go now.  

He checked the fries in the fryer. He took the meat off the grill. He contemplated the lettuce, deciding that the lettuce should be chopped just a little bit more. He talked about his chefiness. He went into another room to get a to-go container. He readjusted the tomatoes in the sandwich. He got out the sauce. He ever so carefully wrapped the gyros. He tenderly placed them in containers. I looked at my watch. He checked the fries. I paced. 

Finally, he packed up the fries and the gyros and handed them to me. With a cheerful smile, he said he hoped that he hadn’t made me too late. 

I was off.  By the time I picked up my kids (late) and got back to work, I had eaten most of the fries, my food was cold and soggy, and I ended up having to take more leave than I had planned. 


When I finally got to that gyro, guess what?  It wasn’t so damn good anymore.

Photos are borrowed from the Flikr Creative Commons community and do not represent the actual event.  

Photo credits: Gyro by Marshall Astor.  Hidden Chef by Tracy Hunter.

Granby Street Pizza - Good, Cheap Eats

Armed with our cameras while out and about this weekend, my daughter and I "discovered" Granby Street Pizza in downtown Norfolk. I say "discovered" because although I had heard of it, I didn't realize what a great spot it was until we actually went there.

We really just popped our heads in to see what was going on, especially since we had only recently indulged our sweet tooths at Chocollage (see Sunday, May 22 post).

Inside we found the pizza maker, Mark, tossing the pizza dough in the air to stretch it out, which he repeated a couple more times just for our viewing pleasure. We continued watching him as he made the exceedingly large pepperoni pizza, gaping as he loaded on the sauce, cheese, and roni.  Dessert suddenly seemed such a long time ago...

Although Mark was making up a fresh pizza, we also spied several other, different, delicious-looking pizzas lined up, ready for the serving. Since we love pizza about as much as we love dessert ... well, you can guess how this story ends...

At only $2.50 for a large slice with pepperoni (or $14 for a whole 18" pizza), this pizza is a nice deal.  Even some of the specialty pizzas are only $2.50 a slice, like the Italian Flag Bianca Pizza (white pizza) I enjoyed (shown below right). 

My daughter, Anna, in a kid's conservative fashion, ordered the pepperoni pizza. My tastes run a tad more exotic though, so I chose the Italian slice, which was made with tomato, spinach, ricotta, romano, mozzerella and a goodly smattering of chopped garlic.

After sampling each other's slices, we declared both quite good, although my girl ended up liking mine even more than her own. Determined to try some of the other pizzas at a later date, we decided that we will definitely be back, with the rest of the family in tow!

Granby Street Pizza serves New York Style Pizza; Stromboli, Calzones, and other Italian Fare; Subs, Burgers, Gyros, and Salads.

Located at 235 Granby Street
Norfolk, VA 23510
(757) 622-5084

Thanks to Mark and owner Peter Freda for allowing me to photograph them and their good eats!

Colley Cantina's Hot Poppers and Dark Brews

Been so busy lately, one appointment after another -- 21 in 27 days. Whew! And more to come.

After one doc appointment recently, I found myself with an irate, empty tummy. I'd been up since about 6 am (yes, really), without a thing to eat or drink but about half a cup of joe. Now, I know this is probably not the first thing to come to your mind when you are hungry, but as I was rumbling down Colley Avenue in Ghent just before the lunch rush, I thought about the jalapeno poppers at the Colley Cantina. I hadn't been to Colley Cantina in quite a long time, but I still remembered those poppers.

If you've never had them before, go and try them, and see why my car turned in Colley Cantina's direction. These are the most beautiful, fresh, succulent (!) stuffed jalapeno peppers you will likely ever encounter on this earth. Handmade, batter-crusted and oozing with cheese, dipped in a bit of cool ranch sauce, you will enter a new orbit when you pop one of these babies in your mouth.

So, okay, I got there and ordered me up a batch (a little bad grammar never hurt no one). While waiting, I did what I always do, read everything on it that has writing. Since there were no cereal boxes around, of course, I had to read about their brew offerings, which were plentiful, not to mention outstandingly interesting.

And here is where I really got interested. The Colley Cantina apparently excels at delivering a variety of exotic and micro-brews, of both the light and dark variety. Now, truly, I am not a big drinker, but I do like to quaff a nice, foamy, rich, dark brew every once in a while. However, it is not at all unusual for me to try to order one in a restaurant and then have them tell me that they can serve me a light brew and turn the lights out, if I insist.

Imagine my delight when I saw their dark beer menu, which I have kindly photographed for your reading pleasure (and to save a few keystrokes for my carpal-tunnel wracked wrists):

Pictured above: Stone 09/09/09 Vertical Epic (left) and the Stone Imperial Russian Stout (right)

Now,  I know that it was daytime, and I NEVER (hardly ever) drink in the daytime, but I did notice that they offered tasters for only 25 cents each, which seemed like such a very good idea.  Since this marketing ploy nabbed me on two counts -- dark beer, a penny-pincher's dream bargain -- I really had no choice but to try a couple.  Those would be the two shown above.

I do have to disclose that the 25 cent sizes are really no more than a sip or two, and that I did ask for a larger portion of both, for which I was charged the half-pint price.  However,  since I said that I do not drink during the day, I am only owning up to drinking the two sippy size portions. Based on this sampling, however, I can tell you that these two brews were DELICIOUS, particularly the Vertical Epic. Do try to squint and read what you can of the pictured descriptions as they really do describe the flavors quite accurately (chocolately, creamy, etc.).  I am still thinking about them and am contemplating a return trip very soon. (Curiously, I did happen to leave my credit card there by mistake).

Anyway, between the brews and the poppers, I was quite happy, and my tummy was as well. (I highly recommend dark brews to settle the stomach and they go quite nicely with the jalapenos.  My high school German teacher did advise that German women were known to drink dark beer when pregnant, so there may very well be something to this).

Colley Cantina is located in Norfolk's Ghent area at 1316 Colley Avenue. Phone number is (757) 622-0033.