It’s Greek To Me

When a restaurant has been around your neighborhood for more than 20 years … and you’ve sort of grown up with it, you sometimes forget why exactly it is that you keep coming back. Is it the service, the feeling that you actually know the people who own it, or the food? In the case of It’s Greek to Me—all of the above. We stopped in the other day for our semi-monthly lunch fix and were reminded why we love peninsular Mediterranean cooking. The Greeks, the Italians, the Spanish all seem to have an intuitive understanding that, with simple ingredients, such as a lamb chop or salmon fillet, and olive oil and some herbs mixed with the proper care and grilled perfectly, you make the morning’s cares melt in your mouth. What most don’t know is that It’s Greek to Me also makes the best potatoes in town. The slab-cut french fries are always wonderfully crunchy outside and soft inside. It’s difficult to choose them over the oven-browned potatoes, which you should mash with your fork, salt and pepper liberally, and savor the herby flavor of Greece. Let’s also consider the actual items one thinks of as Greek—the taramosalata, a wonderful puree of some sort of salty fish eggs, and (surprise) potato; the gyros, the Greek sausage, the burning cheese, the
honey-dripping baklava are all predictably delicious. That’s just what we want from our neighborhood—predictable savory delight.


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