Tzatziki's of Greenwood Village: Middle Eastern in the Southern Suburbs

Note: I wrote this right before the arrival of my twins and in the haste of the delivery completely forgot to post it. Here you have it six weeks later, Middle Eastern in Greenwood Village.

The other day in the middle of an exhausting day running errands into every corner of Denver and its suburbs, my wife and I found ourselves hungry and at the corner of University and Orchard in Greenwood Village. If you're like many Denverites you might think of Greenwood Village as economically and racially uniform-- void of diversity of any kind. That is mostly a true statement, but it is also true that you will likely find more culinary diversity on this corner than there is in Denver's entire North Cherry Creek neighborhood. I draw the comparison for the obvious similarities between the two areas ($$$), but also partly out of continued spite of all the rampant closings in Cherry Creek over recent years that have all but destroyed any feeble grasp that diversity held in this pocket of Denver; and more specifically because the surviving half of what I thought would always be a Cherry Creek institution-- Chez Jose-- remains standing here in a strip mall.

Normally in this state of hunger I would have walked into the familiar Chez Jose, inhaled a prawn burrito and moved on with my day; but due to my heightened state of blog-potential awareness (my wife has other names for it when she is hungry) another restaurant across the street caught my eye: Tzatziki's. And it was more than the old-school yellow and blue marquee that featured it as a headliner of the classic Cherry Crest Shoppete.

It was more like me wondering what a Middle Eastern restaurant was doing in the middle of this neighborhood. I've already established that Greenwood Village is no Cherry Creek North, but let's be real, the only things brown and white melting in a pot here are chocolate chips behind secure gates and locked doors in a $400 fondue pot.

But of course I jest. There are actually a few good and diverse options to be had in this village, and good food is good food regardless of who makes it or what kind of neighborhood it is made in. I love the idea of cultures mixing, and if that means going to Greenwood Village, so be it. But the question remains after my rambling introduction: How exactly is the food at Tzatziki's?

We started with an order of falafel. I love these little fried balls, and like hummus and pita, I find them a good measure of a restaurant claiming any sort of Middle Eastern ties. These were soft and delightful (balls) on the inside and although ever-so-slightly over-fried on the outside, still very good.

Lunch is a great time to go to Tzatziki's because for just over seven bucks you can get a bunch of food. The special goes something like this: choice of meat, rice or fries, green or tabouli salad, hummus or baba ganoush, sauce. I got the gyro which was thick sliced, well-flavored . The rice on the other hand was of the bland variety, though doused in the good tzatziki sauce it became an acceptable vehicle for the ubiquitous and addictive yogurt-cucumber blend.  Back on the good side, the tabouli salad was vibrant and fresh. And the hummus was creamy and smooth, although ever-so-slightly lacking in flavor, lest it was simply my palate that was overwhelmed with the garlic of my tzatziki.

The gyro was sliced off a spit which is of course a huge bonus. Likewise I spied the shwarmas roasting on spits of their own in the kitchen. My wife's chicken "kabob" on the other hand was simply a sliced chicken breast that looked like it spent some time in a non-stick skillet and certainly never knew the sharp point of a skewer. Her baba ganoush though was smoky, creamy and layered with flavor.

The pita was a little sad and store bought. It was warmed, but it is always a little sad to see a promising Middle Eastern place use thin, dry and generic pita (though it is common). The fries too were
very run-of-the-mill and overall the spread of my wife's lunch-- save that fantastic baba ganoush-- was seemingly made for potentially plain palates.

As far as I can tell Tzatziki's serves a mix of well-executed and flavored Middle Eastern classics alongside plain crowd-pleasers for what I imagine cater to its numerous non-Middle Eastern clientele. That being said, I think it's great that this part of Greenwood Village has a little slice of the Middle East in its midst. While not everything was amazing to me, there was enough that would encourage me to stop by if I'm able to get that far away from home again in the next few years.

A Last Meal of Sorts at Silla Korean BBQ

As you may know by reading the last paragraph of this prior post (OK, I know very few make it to the last paragraph) I have had my hands busy with the recent arrival of twin babies. For the most part when it comes to food and family, more is better, and these past three weeks--however exhausting they have been-- have proved to be no exception. But while my world now revolves around feeding, crapping and diaper changes (well, I suppose not much has changed except for the diapers) it is nice to poke my head out of the maelstrom from time to time and check in on the world through the lens of the internet. This time I thought it would be nice to post about the very last meal that my wife and I ate as a childless couple.

It was fitting that this "last" meal was shared with our good friends Denveater and her beau the Director. We broke bread (or dumplings) in a small booth of Silla, possibly my favorite Korean BBQ restaurant in the city. What follows are some thoughts she had on our night. For my words, go to her blog.

Me: You and the director were in hurry to get a few drinks down that night so you beat us there by about a half-hour. What was your first impression of Silla? 

Her: Okay, this may be TMI, but when we walked in, we couldn’t help but notice the elderly, disabled man seated at the table across from us. It was clear the employees knew him well; though he was with his family, it was they who were spoon-feeding him now and then, wiping his mouth. There were dribbles on his clothes, spills on the floor. When they left someone cleaned up the mess. It wasn’t pleasant, but that was the reality. I found it touching that he was being treated with such respect, like any other customer, not hidden away in a corner.

The overall vibe is very warm, despite the fact that the décor is totally nondescript. You could as easily mistake it for a pizza parlor or a barbecue shack if it weren’t for all the families and hulking teenage boys, mostly Korean, chowing down. Great people watching here.

And how was your sake?

As for the sake, it was your basic cheap stuff, served warm. Soju is of course what we should have had—but the Director’s goal was to thaw out his insides, and I was fine with that. I’ll drink anything except mass-produced American lager, and I’d probably even drink that if it were my only option, alcohol-wise.

You were set on ordering Naeng myun. We did and I thought it was great. Did it meet your expectations and how would you describe it? 

Naeng myun (here listed as  yu-chun chik mool nengmyun). It’s a cold buckwheat noodle soup, generally eaten in summer, but I had to get it despite the nasty weather because I love it so. The key is the broth, which is refreshingly sour—a combination of beef or chicken broth and rice vinegar. The mound of noodles in the center of the bowl is topped with slices of cold boiled beef, julienned cucumber and radish, and slices of hard-boiled egg. Silla’s version did not include the sliced Asian pear that’s also common, which was a slight disappointment because the crisp fruit contrasts so well with the meat, while its acidity softly highlights the tangy broth. But otherwise it hit the spot.  

How about that button? 

Hilarious. As awkward as we felt about using it, it definitely comes in handy when the place is packed and there are only two servers working the floor. You gotta wonder though if it gets to be a nuisance, with little kids and drunk teens pressing it all the time, to the point where they just ignore it, like a car alarm.

What about the rest of the meal? 
Of course, we ordered (and ate) way too much as usual—if we’d just had the kalbi (here galbee) with all those pan chan, the four of us would have been fine. Yes, the short-rib meat was positively silky, and I was especially fond of the marinated eggplant on the side. That said, I know you’re going to disagree with me on this, but I think the barbecue at Korea House is just as good as Silla’s. Someday, when you’re no longer so overwhelmed by new parenthood, I’ll drag you there for comparison’s sake.

Meanwhile, we learned a lesson regarding bibimbop: you have to scrape up the rice stuck to the bottom of the pan before it cools, or it’ll harden in place. Those crunchy bits are the best part! Still, it was beautifully done, with a perfect, molten yolk on top. Those jumbo dumplings stuffed with kimchi were the surprise hit, however. Despite their ridiculous size—no way you could pick one up with chopsticks—the dough was still thin enough that you could see through it to the filling, which was great, plenty spicy but tempered with, what did we decide it was, soft bits of tofu?

If we’d had another hour and more than one stomach each, I’d also have insisted on oyster pancake. Except then we’d probably have ended up at the hospital too, you guys emerging with twins and us leaving with a half-digested mass of fermented cabbage.

That meal at Silla was our last meal as a free and independent couple for at least the next 18-26 years (depending on how long my boys will end up living in my basement). As far as last meals go it wasn't too bad-- what would your last meal be?

Ha, that's great—I'm honored it was with us!

Well, if it could be anywhere, I'd fly to Boston to go to Neptune Oyster—which will always be my home away from home since literally the day it opened. It's a seafood-centric little neighborhood joint in the North End that, for all its laurels (it served as the setting for Ben Affleck and Rebecca Hall's first date in The Town), never rests on them, turning out the most surprising dishes, like fried oysters with pickled beef tongue, time after time. I'm hoping TAG Raw Bar will have half its mojo.

But if I were here in Denver, I'd probably empty my bank account at Beatrice & Woodsley.  From the moody, transporting decor to the inventive small plates, there's just no place quite like it—anywhere.

In the Meantime, A Cheeseburger Wallet for You

Every week I get all kinds of emails asking to promote all kinds of things. I am not sure why, though I guess I must give the impression somehow that more people than my mom, wife and a handful of close friends obligingly read my posts every week. That being said it has led to some perks for me like a book with a respectable recipe for tacos al pastor as well as some great perks for those who do manage to make their way through my posts, like the recent Denver Film Society membership or the much coveted EatDenver coupon cards.

Well since I am essentially locked in my home and have very little time in between feeding my newborn twins to write original content, this post will actually link you to another post where they are giving away-- get ready -- a cheeseburger wallet. The game is like Lori Midson's Guess Where I'm Eating. You look at the cheeseburger and guess where it is from. I am assured that it is from some locale in Colorado. I for one do not know where, but then again I rarely look at a cheeseburger like that long enough to have any memory of it. Good Luck! Click Here!