(You can read the first part of this post here.)
The fam van arrived around 2 p.m. on Thursday, in high spirits, as always. I gave the gang the grand tour of our apartment (all six rooms of it), warned them about the knee clearance on our toilet (Future visitors, take note!), and then we immediately commenced upon a favorite family pastime and tucked in to the loaf of chocolate chip banana bread I baked just that morning.
When Bert got home, we decided to try out a restaurant just down the street – a Greek place called Theo’s Metro. It’s a big place hidden in the middle of our neighborhood and housed in an old chocolate popcorn factory. (I can’t imagine that chocolate popcorn was ever a lucrative enough business to warrant its own multi-building, brick factory complex, but I’ll admit: I don’t know much about the popcorn industry. I keep saying I’m going to go hardcore and start popping my own kernels on the stove, but those darn microwave packs just keep appearing in my pantry. Popcorn salesmen are sneaky, that’s for sure. Darn those irresistible coupons.) The building doesn’t look like much from the outside (I might have chickened out earlier that day and made the other ladies run inside for a menu.), but it definitely has the “authentic vintage paraphernalia” vibe going on inside. (And the website says it even has mini golf for the chitlins! How did I totally miss that?!)
The dining room was quiet, but in the grand tradition of all awesome Greek places, it was “We-have-to-go-buy-the-lamb” slow. So after we polished off the rolls, the five of us settled in for the always fun, gyro-proximity induced discussion on the correct pronunciation of just about everything Greek. (Except baklava, of course, which we all seem to have down. I attribute this to its inclusion in the lyrics to “Friend Like Me” from Aladdin.) When our food did come, it was fantastic. I got the lamb souvlaki gyro with a side of lemon potatoes and that awesome Greek sauce that I can’t pronounce or spell, but that seriously must make the world go round. I’m usually not a big fan of copious amounts of anything in the Sour Cream Family, but that stuff is amazing. I definitely smeared it on everything on my plate.
After dinner, we walked home (Because we walked there and not because we got a little crazy on the ouzo. And no, I can’t pronounce that either. ;) – and broke into Mama V.’s berry and rhubarb pie for dessert. As you will recall from this post, Mama V. makes pies of epic proportions and this one did not disappoint. (I finished up the last bit while writing this post!) I don’t know if it was the food or the long day, but we pretty much called it a night after that. Or at least Bert and I did.
Mama V. and the aunts, however, decided they would all squeeze on the pullout couch for the night. (Future visitors, please note we do have several extra air mattresses. This was a decision of their own making.) The pullout is some weird European/Ikea size, but it’s definitely in the Full/Queen range, i.e. not meant for three adults. Details, details. These ladies turned themselves sideways, pulled up a chair and an ottoman for the overhanging feet of the two 5’8”+ ladies, and giggled themselves to sleep. Oh yes, you are correct. It was a total sleepover.
(Thanks for your patience with this super long post! Obviously, epic weekends take a long time to explain! Stay tuned for the third and final segment!)
I have mad skills at Greek restaurants! It is one of the very rare situations where all my time spent studying Classics in college comes in handy. After two years of studying Greek and having spent a week in Greece, I can confidently tell you that gyro is pronounced "year - oh" Never, ever believe the people that think it is pronunced jie-roh. G is never, ever pronunced as J in Greek. In fact, there is no J sound, period, in Greek.
ReplyDeletethat's what I thought!!! good to know... :)
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