Greek Corner Gyros

I know I haven't posted on here in a while, and I don't normally do a review-type post, but I ate at the gyro place today and had to share my gooooood eats!

I've always liked the feel of the Greek Corner Gyros place down on Franklin and Jefferson. It's small, there really isn't a lot of seating room, but the staff is always smiling and quick to greet me when I walk in the door. It also helps that the tantalizing smell of roasting lamb and beef wafts through the restaurant and even seems to seep through the walls and pull in passersby. And if you're lucky, every once in a while you'll catch an authentic, "Opa!" from the Greek family that runs the place.

One of the first things you'll notice as you enter the Greek Corner is its massive menu. Posted above the counter, and with typed up new specials taped to the counter itself, it seems to be ever growing and slowly running out of space to expand. Ranging from souvlaki to hot dogs, the selection, needless to say, is not lacking in the slightest.

Despite this, I used to always get the same thing. Even though I visited quite often--as much as four times a month at the height of my patronage--I always got the traditional gyro meal. The gyro consists of a large helping of lamb meat (which, it turns out, is really 80% beef, but who's counting that against them? Not this girl!), tomatoes, onions, and delicious tzatziki (a sweet cucumber and yogurt sauce) all wrapped in a round fold of golden brown pita, and it comes with seasoned fries (not to be underrated!) and a drink. While it may  seem silly to never vary one's order in a place where the menu is so obviously plentiful, what else could one really get a gyro place?? A good gyro is hard to find, and even harder to quit.

That's why it wasn't until a visiting friend tried something different that I branched out. She had ordered the Mediterranean chicken, a sandwich that, like the gyro, was served on pita bread. Naturally, I shook my head at her. Who doesn't order a gyro at a gyro place, at least the first time they visit? Shameful. But that was before I saw, smelled, and tasted what would soon become my new favorite and usual order.

On this aforementioned slice of fried pita sat seasoned chicken, green peppers, provolone, and, you guessed it, the cool tzatziki. It certainly looked and smelled good, though I wondered whether it could stand up to the savory, greasy goodness that was my beloved gyro. I asked if I could try a bite, and my friend obliged. The texture of the tender chicken and the chewy provolone; the combination of sweet, mildly cheesy, and chicken-y flavors; the comforting presence of the familiar crispy pita wrapped around all this greatness--all of it made for one phenomenal bite.

And that was it, that's all it took. Now, whenever I go there, my order is once again always the same, but it's no longer what it was before; now I get the Mediterranean chicken every time. So naturally, that's what I got tonight as well, and it was as good and satisfying as ever.

I'd show you a picture, but, well, it's sort of...

                                                                                             ...gone :)


And once again, when I head back there some weekend night at 1:00 in the morning, I won't hold up the line of drunk college kids (their largest clientele demographic, I would guess) by taking a long time to decide what I want. The choice is obvious: it's that tasty, tasty chicken all the way!

Favorite Breakfast Dishes

I love hearty breakfasts with lots of meat--bacon, sausage, ham, etc--and eggs and something else fluffy, like pancakes or french toast or even potatoes. But making all these things separately, and eating a helping of each, makes for a lot of food, a lot of kitchen mess, and an overly-full stomach. This is why I like to mix things together.

This morning, I found a can of corned beef hash on my shelf. I don't remember buying it, but I'm sure it was me, I love anything with corn beef, and hash is always good. It makes me feel like a Who down in Whoville eating Who Hash :)

(from: http://www.meijer.com/s/mary-kitchen-corned-beef-hash-1-can-25-oz/_/R-126915)

Already, this provided me with a savory meat (the corned beef) and something fluffy (the potato chunks); all I needed was the eggs. Luckily, my roommate keeps the fridge regularly stocked with basic stuff, the kinds of things I always forget to buy, like milk, butter, and eggs. I grabbed three of the eggs and began to whisk them up in a small bowl with a few splashes of milk. Meanwhile, the greased skillet I had placed on the burner was heating up nicely.

Once the skillet was ready, I poured on the eggs and started scrapping them around till all the liquid turned to jiggly fluff. Before the eggs could burn, I emptied the can of corned beef hash into the pan and mixed it all up. Now I just had to let it get a little crispy.

After letting the corned beef hash sit for a minute, then flipping it, then letting it sit again, then flipping it again, everything was starting to turn golden brown, or at least it would have if the corned beef wasn't already naturally a reddish shade of pink. Regardless of color, I could tell it was ready, so I turned off the burner and served myself a bowlful.

Before I dug in, I added a few decent shakes of garlic salt, a very good decision in retrospect. The garlic and egg toned down the loud, sharp flavor of the corned beef, creating a nice balance of tastes on my tongue. Overall, it was easy, hearty, and lovely, just what I want from a good breakfast. And the only things I got dirty were one skillet, a bowl, a fork, and a spatula. Not bad at all.

Another good breakfast combo like this one is called Farmer's Breakfast. This one may be more appealing to the masses since not everyone enjoys the strong taste of corned beef, but I still recommend either one because I think they're both good. Anyway, Farmer's Breakfast goes a little something like this:

1. Scramble some eggs
2. Brown some sausage
3. Fry some bacon
4. Dice some potatoes
5. Stir them all together in a skillet till well mixed
6. Serve with pepper to taste

It's a little more work and a lot more dishes (which kind of defeats the purpose of finding an easy breakfast combo that doesn't make a mess of your kitchen), but it's totally worth the trouble. And if you can find a partner to make and eat it with you--my boyfriend loooooves this stuff--you've also found somebody to help you with the clean up (hopefully).


Moral of the story: corned beef hash with eggs and garlic salt is super quick and easy, while Farmer's Breakfast is possibly even more yummy, but definitely more work. Either way, they're both way above mediocre.

Broccoli Cheddar Soup?

Yes, the title of this post does end in a question mark, that is not a type-o. I did that because this turned out to be one of my failed attempts at cooking something new. Well, sort of failed. I guess this would be a case where the adjective "mediocre" is entirely appropriate.

Knowing that we were going to be snowed in by the impending second coming of snowpocalypse, my roommate and I (I guess she's like my unofficial partner in this blog now?) went to Walmart and bought all the necessary ingredients for the only dish that really makes sense in those kinds of conditions: soup, specifically broccoli cheddar soup. 

As the snowflakes began to accumulate, I started by chopping some onions. Even though we lit a Christmas candle (appropriate for the weather, we thought) to stave off the eye-watering sting of the onions, I found myself frequently running over to the door of our apartment to shove my face out into the frigid, snowy air just to give my burning eyeballs a break. Eventually, half of a large yellow onion was sufficiently diced and thrown into the deep pot on the stove to saute in some butter. 

It was then my job to add 3 cups of water and 3 chicken bullion cubes to the pot and wait for it to boil while my roommate shredded the carrots. On her most recent trip home, she had borrowed this electric shredding thing from her mom. The words "Salad Shooter" were printed across the side of the little contraption, and when you put a couple carrots in the top, it whirred and buzzed and then shot out thin shreds of carrot, the perfect size for salads, or, as in our case, broccoli cheddar soup. After putting three medium sized carrots through the salad shooter, she moved on to cutting up the broccoli. As anyone who knows me knows, I do NOT like broccoli, so the fact that I am even entertaining the idea of eating something with broccoli in the name is kind of astounding. But my roommate assured me, as she cut the broccoli into slightly smaller (but still ridiculously gross-looking) chunks, that the nasty green menace would shrink down in the soup a little and that with all the cheese and noodles we were about to add, I wouldn't even notice them. 

When the water broke out into a boil, I tossed in the veggies and then waited for a second boil before adding in the 2 cups of egg noodles. The pot looked like a jumble of orange and green; had potatoes been an ingredient, this soup would have felt very Irish. During the 5-6 minutes that all this then boiled for a third time, I cubed the giant, 1 lb log of Velveeta cheese that we bought. The processed cheese stuck to my hands, the knife, and the cutting board as I tried to slice and pry it into smaller pieces. It grossed us out a little to think about the fact that we didn't need to refrigerate this stuff, it was fine all on its own. And yet, the cheesiness was probably my favorite part of the finished product. 

Once the egg noodles were nice and tender, we threw in 3 cups of milk, all the freshly cubed cheese, and some garlic powder to taste. As soon as the cheese was melted and mixed thoroughly throughout the soup, we were ready to dig in. Warm and filling as any soup should be, it was also chewy, crunchy, and cheesy at the same time. The combination of broccoli, carrots, and noodles provided the texture, while the cheese was the creamy glue that tried to hold it all together and it turned out to be the most dominate flavor by far. My roommate was kind of right about the broccoli, I didn't notice it hardly at all, but this could have been because I spent a lot of my dinner time meticulously picking through the chunks and separating out the ugly green trees. Needless to say, my roommate declined when I offered all my broccoli bites. 

The odd thing, though, was that there was this weird, mysterious white substance that built up and clung to everything in our bowls. It almost looked like tiny little cheese curds, but we were pretty sure it wasn't coming from the cheese because when we had had this soup made for us by my roommate's mom in the past, she always used Velveeta and this stuff had never come up for her. Perhaps it was the brand of egg noodles we used? We really had no idea. But that, combined with the somewhat watery consistency of the liquid parts of the soup, made us nostalgic for how Mrs. Angeli used to make, and that's just ultimately gave this dish a mediocre rating in my book. 

Of course, I forgot to take pictures while we were cooking and eating this time around, but I do have a picture of our leftovers:

It tastes better than it looks, but not as good as it sounds. Thus, mediocre. But if anybody wants to try and do it better, here's the short version of the recipe we followed:

Broccoli Cheddar Soup:

1 onion (diced)                                    2-3 Tbl. butter

3 c. water                                            3 tsp. chicken bullion cubes/granules

1 pkg. frozen broccoli                         2-3 shredded carrots

1 ½ -2 c. very fine egg noodles           3 c. milk

1 lb. Velveeta cheese (cubed)             Garlic powder

Sauté onion in butter.  Add water and instant chicken cubes/granules.  Bring to a boil. When boiling add the shredded carrots and the broccoli.  Again, when boiling add egg noodles.  Boil 5-6 minutes.  Add milk, cheese and garlic powder to taste.  Heat until cheese is melted and well stirred into soup.

Enjoy!

Lent is Upon Us

'Tis the season to give stuff up, and this year I'm abstaining from what I try and fail to give up every Lent: Coke. As a Coke-enthusiast, this is a seriously big challenge for me. Whereas some people can't say no to at least one piece of chocolate every day, I've gotta have my Coke fix. Yeah, I know I'd save so much money if I didn't buy a bottle every other day or so, and yes, it'd be good for my body if I cut out all that sugar and caffeine (because this girl does not do Diet Coke; ew), and of course I've heard the urban legend about how Coke is so strongly acidic that they use it to clean blood off the highway--but it doesn't matter; Coke is my Kryptonite.

(from: http://willthef1journo.wordpress.com/2012/07/16/coca-cola-and-mclaren/)

This is why I started preparing for Lent two weeks in advance of its actual start. A few weeks before Ash Wednesday I decided that, as deliciously fulfilling and thirst-quenching as I find Coke to be, and despite the fact that it would easily be my last request in any impending doom situation, Coke wasn't doing me any favors. It was sucking up all my money in exchange for copious amounts of empty calories. But instead of just quitting cold turkey on the first day of Lent and naively relying on my notoriously feeble will power, I decided to ease into it this time.  So I started slowly, cutting down my almost every day habit to a few times a week at first, then once a week, and then out entirely just in time for Lent to begin.

(from: http://queirugalibre.blogspot.com/2012/05/coca-cola-se-hace-con-el-control-de-la.html)

The caffeine headaches sucked at first, but this week they were practically non-existent. And I've rediscovered how satisfying just plain old water is when you're parched. I mean sure, every time I see the coke machine all painted with fizzy brown bubbles and placed conveniently just across the room from me at work, right in the middle of my line of sight, I let out a deep sigh (more of a whimper) of longing. But it's getting easier, and for the first time in the several years that I have made this my Lenten goal, it actually feels doable.

Top Five Foods to Pair with Mashed Potatoes

To take a little break from the usual, I decided that for this post, instead of working my way through a new recipe, I'd give my two cents on some good oldies. Of course, this post centers around what dishes go best with one of my all-time favorite foods: mashed potatoes. And for easy reading, I've compiled it all into a top five list.


So, my top five things to eat with mashed potatoes are....

5. Fried chicken, corn, cheese, and country gravy

Now this may sound like multiple dishes, but all four of these things go into one bowl with a big, steamy helping of that fluffy white goodness. That's right--chicken bowls are my fifth favorite way to have mashed potatoes. The mix of creamy and crunchy, cheesy and sweet, is just heaven in a bowl. Well, the fifth best heaven anyway.

4. Country-fried steak and country gravy

I'm realizing that I could probably make a spot just for country gravy alone as an accompaniment to mashed potatoes, but that's not a real meal (I wish), so I won't. I first tried country-fried steak somewhat recently, within the last four years or so, but it was an instant classic. Once again, there's that element of juxtaposition: it's that creamy and crunchy combination that really brings out the best of both foods.

3. Turkey breast

As a Thanksgiving classic, who hasn't tried dipping their turkey into their mashed potatoes? You know exactly what I'm talking about here. On its own, turkey breast to me has always kind of blah (I'm a dark meat person), but paired with mashed potatoes, turkey magically becomes absolutely delicious!

2. Steak

I mean, was there any question as to whether this would be on the list? They just go together, like they were made for each other. Whenever I'm in the mood for either steak or mashed potatoes, a craving for the other is sure to follow. It's like a thick, medium-rare flank dripping in its own juices was just meant to cuddle up next to a creamy, buttery pile of mashed up spuds, flakes of red skin visible throughout the mound. This came very close to the coveted top spot, but ultimately I had to go with...

1. Chicken fettuccine alfredo

Starch upon starch! Sounds terribly bad for you, I know, but I swear the best meal I've ever had that involved mashed potatoes also included a heaping helping of this hearty pasta. And what's even stranger, is that it was from Hyvee catering. Who knew? But I highly recommend it if your taste buds have been anywhere close to mine thus far. The chicken helps to break up the starchiness, while you still get to enjoy two popular and tasty carb-loaded dishes in one sitting. Just remember to do some intense cardio the next day, because this meal will stick with you in the least flattering way possible.


Overall, I think this is a solid list. Eccentric, maybe, but solid. And now of course I'm dying to eat all of these, ranking system be damned.

The Long-Awaited Conclusion of "Yummy Oat Pancakes"

Though it's been a few days since I've had them and I'm just now getting around to blogging about it, the memory of the oat pancakes we made last Thursday is still fresh and vivid. Despite having eaten several (good) meals since then, the oat pancakes are by far my favorite dish of the week (and I treated myself to both China Palace AND The Greek Corner Gyros this past week, so that's saying a lot).

After soaking the oats in buttermilk overnight, my roommate and I just needed to mix together the rest of the ingredients. In a small mixing bowl, we combined the dry stuff:

1/2 cup flour
2 tablespoons sugar
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon (trust me, that's plenty!)
1/4 teaspoon salt

In a medium mixing bowl, we combined the wet stuff:

2 eggs, lightly beaten
1/2 stick of melted butter

First, we added the wet stuff to the soaked oats and combined it all with a big rubber spatula. The result was a very yellowy version of the chunky wet stuff we had before. I wish I could say it was appetizing, but it really wasn't. Then we added the dry stuff. This had the effect of at least changing the color from sickly yellow to an off-white, tan-ish color, and it made the consistency more thick than chunky. Now it was really starting to look like batter.

And bam! We were ready to fry up some pancakes. As you might have guessed, the process is essentially exactly the same as with regular pancakes. You scoop about a half a cup's worth of batter into a measuring cup, depending on how big you want your pancakes, and then pour them onto a hot griddle that has been sprayed with Pam.

One thing that is a little different about pancakes made with oats, though, is that it is harder to see the bubbles. I was always taught that you know a pancake is ready to be flipped when it starts to bubble, but with this kind of pancakes, it's hard to see the tiny bubbles amid the speckled cinnamon and oats. Lucky for us, unlike with regular pancakes, oat pancakes taste good when they're just a little crispy.

Once the pancakes have turned a decent golden brown on both sides (or even slightly darker), they're ready to be plated and served, preferably with butter and powdered sugar. If you're like most people and enjoy maple syrup, have at it. I, on the other hand, cannot stand the stuff. I stuck with my sugar fix.

And there you have it: a very UN-mediocre stack of tasty oat-filled pancakes, if I do say so myself.

(Side note: As you may have noticed, my pictures just got way more frequent and way cooler. That's because I recently installed Instagram on my phone just so I could take nice pictures for this blog. (Don't judge me.) And don't worry, while everything certainly looks cooler with the filters on than it would if I had just left it as my crappy phone camera captures everything, I do try to be loyal to the food's real life level of deliciousness, meaning I'm not gonna fluff up a botched recipe with a perfect-looking picture; I'd like to portray my results as honestly as possible. Just be prepared for even more classy food pictures to come!)

Yummy Oat Pancakes

My mom was never much of a baker; she'd rather eyeball measurements and proportions till she got something to taste just right than be precise. This is the reason why I never learned to bake anything fancier than those pre-cut Pillsbury sugar cookies. But I've been able to get by with mostly just cooking, and I've never really been into stuff like cake or cupcakes anyways (I'm more of a straight up chocolate kinda girl).

Where pancakes fall in the baking-cooking divide, I'm not entirely sure. You obviously don't bake them in the oven, you fry them on the stove top, but making the batter is very much like making cake batter in that your measurements have to be exact. Too much flour, the batter's too thick; too much milk, the batter's too thin. Either way, those are some bad pancakes. Needless to say, I can't just guess at how much of each ingredient I will need. I'm going to need some practiced hands if I want to make one of my favorite breakfast foods: oat pancakes.

My first experience with oat pancakes was at my best friend's house around fifth grade or so. Her mom, a woman who rather enjoys baking and has a knack for it, made these delightful little speckled rounds that resembled pancakes, but were oh-so-much more than that. They were fluffy, as a pancake should be, but textured; you could taste and feel every oat and grain in them. To me, this was a new and pleasant experience for my mouth, but texture like that is not for everybody. Lightly sweetened with cinnamon, they were especially good with butter and powered sugar.

But I haven't had them in years. There's more work to them than with regular pancakes, so they don't get made very often, and I haven't been over to my friend's house often enough in the last few years to catch her mom on a day when she's going to the trouble of making them. Lucky for me, though, my best friend is also my current roommate.

So after finishing up our foray into pesto sauce last week, she suggested we call her mom and try to make an old favorite for ourselves. I enthusiastically agreed.

And tonight's the night! Sort of. First thing's first, though, you have to soak the oats in buttermilk overnight. I measured out two cups of old-fashioned oats and two and half cups of buttermilk, and then my roommate started to combine them.

The buttermilk was as thick as a melted milkshake, but the two ingredients gradually mixed together. I made a face. The mixture began to look more and more like, well, blown chunks. I wasn't too surprised, the batter was supposed to be chunky, but it did weird me out just a little.

          "Looks gross," I said.
          "Smells gross," she said.

Sure enough, the bowl smelled unexpectedly like sour cream. As strange as it is, that's what buttermilk smells like apparently. Nevertheless, as we covered the bowl and slid it into the fridge to sit until morning, we were giddy with excitement.

This was only a few hours ago; tomorrow I will wake up and fill the kitchen with the smell of not sour cream, but lovely oat pancakes (which, although they have a taste all their own, smell pretty much just like regular pancakes). So get excited, because my next post will be delicious!