Un-Carted territory


Illustration by Sky Harris
Illustration by Sky Harris

By Allie McRaith /// Features Editor, Russ Alton /// Staff Writer, and Anya Hall /// Staff Writer

When it comes to gyros, I stay with what I know. And what I know is my favorite food cart back home, Demetri’s. However, making the three hour drive to Bend, OR to get my gyro fix isn’t doing my bank account any favors. I was hesitant when we first approached The Gyro House because I felt as though I was cheating on my Demetri’s. But let me tell you, it was the best gyro I’ve ever had. Hands down. It probably weighed a good three pounds and was stuffed full of lamb, tomatoes, onions and tzatziki. And to top it all off, the gyro was less than $5. If you haven’t caught on by now, I was in gyro heaven. I was completely stuffed for the next eight hours, and I can’t wait to go back. —AH

Here’s the problem with Portland — sometimes you’re just trying to ironically enjoy your to-go international cuisine on a street corner and some poor wayfaring stranger decides to come up to you and tell you their life story. Am I interested? No. As far as I know, I have the least inviting face of all time. I intentionally try to make people not want to talk to me most of the time. And yet, most people downtown do not seem to care about that. There I was, trying to enjoy my meal at the Gyro House, and suddenly I’m barraged by people explaining how their niece is getting married in Spokane and they need money for a bus ride. I don’t care. I’d rather you tell me you were buying meth. Oh, and the gyro was decent, although to be honest, the most remarkable thing about this establishment is that it has covered seating, so you don’t have to sit on the curb in the rain like a barbarian. —RA


Watching falafel being made is fascinating: the chickpea base is molded into a ball using what can only be described as a glorified ice cream scooper, and then plopped into the deep fryer for a few seconds — or minutes, I lost track. Everything that came afterwards was secondary to watching him mold these balls. First off, the pita was massive and filled with so much tzatziki sauce and shriveled romaine lettuce that the falafel were hard to find. Second, the falafel, while crispy on the outside was a little too mushy for my liking. (This, perhaps, was due to the fact that I rushed the process by anxiously watching him make them.) Finally, the falafel-to-topping ratio was off: I wanted double the falafel and less of the toppings. The mix was not show-stopping. Moral of the story: three falafel, however greasy and fresh, do not carry the whole sandwich. The price ($5) was reasonable, but you get what you’re paying for – for better or worse. —AM

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