Ari's

9992 Linn Ferry Drive
St. Louis, Mo.
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My friend and co-worker Doug suggested this place. Twice. Once a few months ago, then after I forgot about it, he reminded me again. I scanned the online menu and sent Angel a message with the link and one word: "Lamb!"
Her response: "Have you made the reservations yet?"
We watch a lot of food porn on TV and there are certain things that we've decided we'd like to try, but we had to be reasonably sure that the place we tried it was good. We'd hate to try something and not have it again just because it was poorly prepared.
Angel and I both grew up in areas that were decidedly midwestern and non-ethnic in cuisine. So even things that are fairly common in other places, we've just never had an opportunity to try. Like lamb.
I can't say I've never had lamb, but I don't recall ever having it.
The Place:

Not too far from the Concord Grill, just off Tesson Ferry and Lindbergh in South County. Angel recognized it, having passed it many times on the way to clients' homes to pick up or drop off dogs. "I always thought it was a sandwich place." She said. It did look like that, the signage boasted of gyros, sandwiches. and burgers.
Inside though, instead of a deli, it looked more fine dining. White tablecloths (covered with glass) thick red cloth napkins, classic Greek art on the walls, dark wood floors. There was a bar, separated from the dining area by a tasteful glass block wall. Breaking up the ambiance were three large TV's, one above the bar, two in the dining area. All were muted and tuned to college football, three different games as best I could tell by the bright colors of the players' costumes. This is the sort of thing you see in a sports bar. Not even Ruby Tuesday puts TV's in the dining area. They were muted though, so I just ignored them. Overhead, Greek music, all familiar, some would say stereotypical, played from the sound system.
We were told to sit wherever we liked. We picked a table in the back. The dining area was not massive, but it was very well laid out. a couple of dozen four-top booths and tables fit efficiently into the space.  Immediately upon sitting we were waited on by a young lady with definite Greek features, who later told me her name was. . . something. . . I couldn't quite make it out, but it sounded nice. She even told us how it was pronounced "in my country".  She was very nice and attentive, asking about drinks.
Tea, tea, Pepsi.
While we were waiting, a neighboring table was served a plate I couldn't quite make out. the server set it afire and shouted "Opa!", as is apparently the tradition for that particular dish. I later learned that it was called Saganaki, a flaming Greek cheese. WARNING: Greek cheese is apparently flammable!
The Food:
When one of our drinks was delivered (they were having to brew a fresh batch of tea) The menus looked similar to the online version. It listed pasta, pizza, fish, chicken and there it was, lamb.  Two options, shank and chops. The shank was covered in a marinara sauce, which to me sounded a bit over the top. I wanted to discover lamb, I didn't want to swim through spaghetti sauce to find it. It appealed to Angel though. She chose it with the soup and a baked potato. I happily chose the chops, about the most expensive thing on the menu.  I asked our server about 'Greek Potatoes' She explained they were sauteed with onions, peppers and olives. That sounded good, so I went for that, when in Greece. . . goes the old saying. Or was that Rome? I always get those two confused, what with ancient empires and all those crude, cruel and crazed deities. Instead of the soup, I took the house salad. Adam, staying true to form went with the Greek Chicken and the soup.
The young lady asked if we had questions. I did, several, but Angel jumped in and asked for the ravioli appetizer. The toasted ravioli (because, St. Louis) was pretty good, fluffy, yet crispy. They would have been a little better if we'd had something to wash them down with.
Our tea finally arrived, a young man, also decidedly Greek in features, brought the tea. It was rather weak, but it was fresh.
The soups and salads came soon. The soup they'd chosen was a lemon chicken. Small bowls, it looked rich and creamy. The salad was about what I expected, maybe a little less. Mediterranean style salads are usually similar, lettuce, onions, shredded  white cheese, olives, maybe a little chunk of artichoke and maybe a cherry tomato or two. This version contained only the lettuce, onion and cheese. At least the dressing was correct, olive-y. In all a pretty good salad.
Adam and Angel seemed to enjoy the soup. Afterword they agreed that it may have been a little too-lemony.
I made sure to not finish the salad. Often during the week, my entire dinner is a salad. . .well, maybe one with a few more things in it, but I can fill up on a salad.
The salad plate was never taken away, a minor annoyance, but soon the entree's arrived. I had expected three chops and the potatoes, there was quite a bit more on the plate though. The thick, grilled chops, each  about the same diameter as a baseball, were sitting on a pillow of fluffed rice and surrounded by steamed veggies, cauliflower, broccoli (blech), squash, carrots, etc. I would have been happy with the chops and the potatoes, all that other stuff was going to go untouched.
Angel's shank was indeed hidden in a thick layer of marinara. Also surrounded by the veggies.
So, for the first time in my life, that I recall, I carved into some lamb. About an inch thick, with that grilled texture that makes any meat better. It was more similar to beef then pork, but not quite the same. It was not gamy at all. It tasted exactly like a properly cooked piece of meat. I struggled a little finding all the meat on the bone, not being familiar wit a lamb chop cut. In the end it was easier to navigate by picking it up like a chicken leg and gnawing around the curves and corners. I liked it, a lot. Truly a good piece of meat.
The potatoes, what few there actually were, had absorbed those other things it had been sauteed with, a hint of olive and an almost overwhelming amount of onion. . . it mostly tasted of onion.
I like onions, I love onions, I pretty much put onions in everything I cook. But this was a little overpowering. the texture of the potatoes was spot on, they just need to dial back the onions a bit.
Angel seemed to enjoy her shank. There was a lot of red sauce, but that didn't seem to deter her. "Really interesting." Is what she said about it, though conceding she'd probably go for chops or even kabobs the next time. Adam said little about his chicken. "Good." was his total stated assessment. His dinner was served with the same rice bed and steamed veggies.
Summary:
Since this was more about trying lamb than the restaurant itself, I'd have to say I loved my chops. they were obviously prepared well. So for that, they score 100%.
As for the rest of the experience, well, there's room for improvement. The service was mostly good, our server was very good about stopping by and checking on us, not so great about clearing expended dishes. Nothing major though.
More than anything I got the impression that the dishes were. . . dated. kind of like Beef Wellington or Chicken Cordon Bleu. The beds of rice and steamed veggies seemed to be a throwback to a mid century dining guide. Today's dishes are simpler, cleaner. As I said, I would have been pleased with just the chops and the potatoes. No need for all that other stuff, unless we'd asked for it. The three TV's made it seem like they were going for sports bar, a thing that this place is decidedly not.
however, those are the biggest complaints I can come up with.
Price-wise, well, I did order one of the most expensive things on the menu. So the appetizer and three full entrees came to about $73. Not awful, but for that there was a lot on the plate that did not get eaten.
We may go again. . .

Go Gyro Go (Food Truck)

http://www.gogyrogostl.com/

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I can’t say I’ve ever actually had a gyro. Not that I have anything against them, I just don’t recall ever having one.  

Growing up in the lovely, rural, slightly inbred backwaters of western Kentucky, there weren’t a lot of Greek people, and few if any of their traditions or inventions, like gyros, urns, or western civilization. Unlike Greece though, western Kentucky has evolved a little since the Bronze Age, adopting certain modern innovations like electricity and regular bathing.

Somewhere along the way, in ancient times, the Greeks invented the gyro, a type of bread-wrapped working man’s meal containing meat, produce, cheese and yogurt.

In some places in the U.S. these things are very popular. In other places they are heavily Americanized. In a few other places, like my first hometown, Cadiz Ky., they exist only in a slightly modified form, eschewing the lamb and goat products in favor of bovine byproducts, and replacing the arrogant, snooty, yogurt based sauce with a more basic tomato-pepper sauce. Instead of feta, real American pasteurized, processed cheese product is used, as God intended. Oh yeah, it’s not even called a gyro in Cadiz, it’s called a ‘taco’.

The Truck:

Go Gyro Go is owned by Nick and Linda Cowlin. Nick’s grandparents are Greek, they hail from the small island of Zakynthos (pronounced Zxzkntthhss). Linda is described on their web page as “first generation Greek-American” and is by far the prettier of the two, Greek or not.

The truck, outfitted by Nick himself, has been on the road since mid-2011.

It showed up at my workplace right on time, with a three person crew. I immediately recognized Linda from the website; I didn’t really pay much attention to the two dudes. I’m sure they were quite handsome and worked pretty hard.

Linda manned the window, taking orders and sweating a lot, though not the least bit offensively. This heat wave must be brutal on food truck workers, crammed in a hot, oven’ed and grilled motor coach in near triple digit temperatures. Seeing the crew sweat like that made me glad I went to college and established a cushy indoor career.

The paint job on the truck was blue on white, like the Greek flag. The lettering was faux-Greek, using a heavily angular script just like that used on every fraternity house across the U.S.

The aroma rising from the truck was inviting. Inside, the spiced meat was being freshly grilled. On the window counter sat a jug of fresh lemonade and a jar of pickled peppers.

The line was quite long when I got there, twelve or more people lined up. None of my immediate co-workers though. Rumor had it that someone among them had discovered a lunch-provided meeting of some kind and most of the folks in my village of cubicles hunted it down. Business meetings are usually terribly tedious, bordering on mental menstruation, brain cells actually dying and sloughing off. Add a free lunch to a meeting though and all bets are off. I was busy though, I needed to get back to my cube to move some more big, ugly upgrade files around from server to server. (not as easy as it sounds)

The Food:

I was curious to hear how everyone would pronounce the word ‘gyro’, I’ve heard it several ways. Hi-ro, gy-ro, guy-ro,  even he-ro. I listened closely to those in front of me and ended up ordering it like they did “A classic, please.”

The classic gyro was billed as: “A blend of beef, lamb and spices, served in warm, grilled pita bread with fresh tomato, red onion, feta cheese, parsley and tzatziki sauce.”

The classic cost $7.50 and came with regular, generic potato chips. I didn’t add a drink, though the lemonade looked pretty tempting. It only took about five minutes from order to delivery. The truck had a second window for pick-ups, a good idea, it kept Linda free to take more orders without having to share a cramped window.

They wrapped the gyro in a foil diaper and put that into a Styrofoam box. I marched right back up to the cube, without delay.

I picked at the dangling meat, thinly sliced and a little dry looking. It wasn’t dry to the taste though. The spice mix they used made it taste a little like jerky, though much more tender. The veggies were fresh, especially the tomatoes. It’s been a lousy garden year here and good looking tomatoes like these have been rare.

The pita wrapper was thicker than a soft taco, and very soft and pliable. The most prominent aspect of the wrap however, was the sauce.

Tzatzki looks like sour cream, but it isn’t. Traditionally tzatzki (pronounced ‘Tzzttzzkky’) is made from strained yogurt, cucumbers, garlic, olive oil and dill. It is nearly always served cold, like sour cream.

The taste is also kind of like sour cream but with a not-unpleasant added tartness. Atop all that was a sprinkling of feta cheese, which in taste is a little like mild blue cheese. Feta is a protected blend in the Euro zone since 2002. According to the Encyclopedia Galactica, or as it is more commonly known, Wikipedia: ". . .only those cheeses produced in a traditional way in some areas of Greece (mainland and the island of Lesbos), and made from sheep milk, or from a mixture of sheep and goats’ milk (up to 30%) of the same area, may bear the name "feta"

And this matters a lot since it afforded me the opportunity to write the word ‘Lesbos’ for the seventh time today.

The meat was very tender, the sauce, not as strong or bitter as I’d imagined it might be. There was certainly a tartness in the sauce and cheese, and a peppery taste from the meat, but not too much of any of it. I wolfed it down messily and even picked at the crumbs in the box. For my taste there was, due to the messiness, not the taste, a little too much sauce. And the sauce was all located at the top so it was a little uneven in the eating. One bite would be all sauce and cheese, the next meat and tomatoes. It was certainly pretty laid out like that, but I think next time I’ll stir it all up before eating it.

Just as I was finishing, some of the folks from the meeting came back, Doug included. He had a Styrofoam box, identical to the one my gyro came in. No one else had such a box.

“I thought you were going to have lunch at the meeting.” I said.

“I did, two rounds.” He answered, settling into his chair.

“So this is your third lunch today?”

“Sort of, it’s my third lunch in the past hour.”

Doug, usually accused as being the fastest eating mammal on the planet, also eats a lot. He’s a big boy and burns lots of calories coming up with really stupid jokes all day. I have to give him credit this time though, he didn’t eat his classic gyro very fast at all.

Summary:

I have to say I was quite pleased with my gyro. It was spicy, but not too much so, it introduced me to a new cultural experience. I’m not a big fan of living food, like yogurt, but with this meal, I got it. It made sense, tastes and textures blended well, and it was overall, quite pleasing indeed. Doug liked it as well, even as a third lunch. The price was dead-on, maintaining the below-ten-dollar arbitrary bar. There' was a tip jar in the truck's window, it was filling up pretty fast, a sure indicator of appropriately priced meals.

Go Gyro Go’s interpretation of the gyro was quite satisfying. I can’t tell you how it compares universally, since I’m from Kentucky and grew up with only the Mexican version of the wrapped meal, but this thing was for me, really, really good, surprisingly so. They got it all right, Α to Ω.