Oscar's of Broomfield: Sometimes Far is Good

It was a sweltering summer weekend afternoon and my offspring were acting slightly crazier than usual. In no mood to cook--not to mention clean up afterwards--while chasing two tired, tantrum-ready toddlers around the house, my wife and I decided the best thing to do was to strap our lovely little ones down in the car, take a long drive (code for baby-nap for you non-parent types) and end up somewhere to eat that wouldn't care if we were relatively unkempt and with toddlers.

Not exactly the most appealing introduction for the restaurant I picked (read: far-away and with unseemly folk like myself), but really what we were looking for was something casual, quiet and friendly. And far. And with hummus. (Even in the pickiest of moods, almost without exception my boys will eat hummus--and with it anything that can be used as its vehicle--eggs, potatoes, cheese--even soup. Not kidding, we have mixed hummus in soup to get them to eat it.) Oscar's of Broomfield fit the bill.

I have had Oscar's on my radar for some time but usually the drive up to Broomfield feels like just a little too much. When we eventually pulled up we parked on the North side of the building, and if not for the large sign by the road featuring one of Oscar's grandchildren, it could be mistaken for someone's backyard. 

I got out of the car to stretch, babies still fast asleep, and immediately received a warm reception from Oscar himself. He invited me in with a firm handshake and a warm smile. It all felt so comfortable, that even though I had never been here, it felt like I was coming back to Oscar's for the 100th time.

For 10 years Oscar's of Broomfield has been serving mom-and-pop-style Middle Eastern fare from this home-like restaurant. And not only was Oscar himself so genuinely friendly and his restaurant so wholly comforting, but the rural feel of the surroundings made us all loosen up a bit and feel that much more relaxed.

I realize that for folks living outside of an urban area will probably not recognize view from the front door of Oscar's as all that rural. It is largely industrial, and it can probably be argued to be more abandoned-looking than rural; but the run-down farmhouse decaying in the empty field in front of the railroad tracks silouheted by the late afternoon sun is about as country as I get these days. Either way, being on a dead-end street in a business district of Broomfield on a Saturday evening was if nothing else quiet.

The sepia tone makes it look much more rural

I have heard that Oscar's packs them in for lunch all week, and the one page menu complete with food-photos (good sign) advises one to "call ahead for reservations". You probably don't need to do this on Saturday night. Until the end of our meal we were the only ones in the restaurant, and while the home-like interior is inviting, it is also hot, so after ordering we quickly moved back out to the patio.

It really was a quite lovely patio. The centerpiece being a sprinkling fountain surrounded by four umbrella-covered tables each with seating for six. Trees lined the South and East fences, and a simple waist-high chain link fence to the North gave it even more backyard, homey feel. The back of the kitchen exits onto the patio--where I first was greeted by Oscar-- and also where our food came out.

Hummus and baba ganoush was our first plate. They pretty much were adorned in the same way-- with decadent amounts of olive oil, dried parsely and paprika. They were both excellent and not just because our babies literally spooned it into their mouths greedily--ignoring the customary space-filling pita-- but because of what I tasted in my few measly bites: silky smooth hummus; earthy, hearty-yet-creamy baba ganoush.

We ordered the so-called "Italian fries" simply because the picture on the menu was clearly a pizza. I didn't get into the "why" with Oscar concerning the name (some things are better left as is--and I do appreciate the randomness of it) but I did get a hearty endorsement--with a promise I would love it. It was a house invention and a specialty, I was told. 

It was fantastic-- a simple cheese pizza though with particularly airy and light crust that kept us all happily munching until it disappeared. It was even somehow good dipped in the accompanying ranch dressing. Go figure. 

I ordered the gyros. It was a relatively large sandwich and being slightly full from so much pizza it was probably a little much. The meat was the standard processed spit kind (which I enjoy immensely) but in the end it was not all that impressive as gyros go. The watery tzatziki was underflavored and therefore so was each bite. There was nothing bad about it--and as always I ate it all-- but it wasn't something I would order again. 

This kafta-like Kabob, simply called the "Beef Kabob" on the menu, was what my wife ordered. These hand-made skewers were on display in the glass refrigerator when we walked in, so it seemed pretty clear this was one of Oscar's specialties. It was indeed wonderfully spiced and cooked. The result was a juicy, flavor-filled log of meat (which are the best kind of meat logs) that even my babies readily ate even though they generally don't have a taste for beef. 

I didn't get to taste the chicken kabob ordered by my wife's 17 year-old sister, but I did get a thumbs up and a, "It's good," from her. I think that qualifies as a ringing endorsement from the not-so-easily impressed youth of today. Anyway it looked pretty good. 

We also ordered a baklava that didn't even last long enough for a photo op. It was one of the better baklavas I have had in recent memory. That being said, my "recent" memory is counted in hours now instead of weeks or months. Regardless it was good, and as good as gone as soon as it hit the table. 

We did enough pre-dinner nap driving in the area to notice the plethora of vacant businesses and the signs announcing the new thouroughfare on 120th near 36, whose construction will begin soon. I asked Oscar about that and though he will be forced to vacate, from what I could gather, he plans move in a year or so to a new location just a bit further south. Good thing. But just in case it doesn't re-open, or changes in any way, I encourage you to visit him soon. Places like Oscar's are becoming less and less common and I would hate for you to miss out. 

Lunch at Ali Baba Grill, Babies and All

As I've said before, come lunchtime at work, I have very little time to do things like eat, much less the opportunity to actually leave my work-time premises to do so. There are those rare times, however, that the stars align and I find myself in a restaurant during the noon weekday hours like I imagine so many much-more-normal people tend to do on a regular basis.

This lunch story starts on recent a day off where I decided that it would for some reason be a good idea to stay home alone with my two 13-month-old twin boys. It was a frigid, blustery Monday that started before six, and after being stuck indoors all morning, about ten o'clock I was calling my wife begging for help. There might have even been a little crying involved--but I won't say who it was.

My wife, who was diligently bringing home our bacon that day, took control of the situation and instructed me to load up the boys and meet her down by her office for lunch. There she would be able to save me by evening out the ever-important adult-to-child ratio.

Being that she works in the Denver Technological Center, we met at the relatively new location of the Golden-based Ali Baba Grill in the Landmark plaza in Greenwood Village. Now if you read this blog regularly then you will remember that I had some sarcastic words to share about the culinary (and otherwise) diversity in the township of Greenwood Village. (Since the chances are you do not read this regularly, here is the link.) Suffice to say I recognized the irony of my own words as I sat down for my second Middle Eastern meal in this fair suburb.

We sat in a corner booth that immediately became a hit with the boys. It was wide and padded with soft cushions; the perfect place for a toddler to go relatively apeshit but yet not hurt himself all that easily. We ordered and were served quickly. The first plate out was a lovely platter of hummus accompanied by housemade pita, which was thin and more like a flatbread. It had perfect bits of little char and was still warm. It did get a little chewy as it cooled, but those first pieces were fantastic.

Most of the reason the pita was so good was that it was being dipped in a perfect hummus. Smooth and creamy, nutty and garbanzo-y; it was topped with a generous pour of olive oil and sprinkled with paprika. We all loved it. My babies even stood quietly and attentively until every last bit was gone. Those moments of peace were worth the whole trip down. It's humbling to know that hummus is much better babysitter than I.

I ordered a gyro sandwich with fries. The gyro meat was tender, thick cut and flavorful. The tzatziki sauce (another baby queller) was also very good. All together on the fresh-made pita it was quite a nice sandwich. Certainly worlds better than my typical dry bologna sandwich that I inhale while typing, checking messages or trying to put out a fire of some kind. The fries aren't worth too many words: standard diner-style plain fries--but they were plentiful, hit the spot and I ate more than necessary.

My wife's chicken shawarama was also rolled up in that delectable flatbread but was not nearly as good as my gyro. The chicken was tender enough, but it did not have any grilled or spit-roasted flavor. All the flavor, in fact, came from the mildly spicy red sauce which was nothing special. The average fries to me were the good part about her plate.

We ate and paid in what seemed to be way too short of a time thanks to the efficient (and friendly) lunchtime service. Before I knew it I was back in my car with two babies, waving goodbye to their mother. I'm not exactly sure what else we did that day, but the fact that I am writing this is evidence that I survived. So here's to another weekday lunch out, I hope the next one worth writing about is not too far away.

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.

"Greek Town" Eulogized, Chef Zorba's Lives On

In my writing I tend to make liberal use of quotation marks to emphasize sarcasm, irony and to qualify that which is in need of qualification. I may use these punctuations excessively at times, but if anything is worthy of qualifying quotations (as well as the somewhat annoying bilateral dual-finger motions that go along with it), it is was Denver's "Greek Town". "Greek Town" in Denver should always (always) come with quotations, and when speaking, if you are averse to the finger quotation motion, you should at least say "Greek Town" with a more-than-slight amount of sarcasm.

You also must, apparently, now speak of "Greek Town" in the past tense. When I sat down to write this entry I still had the humorous image burned in my brain of the dozen or so tattered banners that have hung since 1997 on East Colfax from St. Paul to Elizabeth to mark the handful of shops that make up "Greek Town". However, when I went to take a photo in order to emphasize the sad irony of "Greek Town" with colorful digital images, I was dismayed to see that the banners have since been taken down, and that quietly, "Greek Town" is no more. As proof of their recent abject state, I submit this "current" Google street view:

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A more recent "street view" of "Greek Town", taken from my car 1.2.10

The origins of "Greek Town" are sketchy to say the least (see this Westword article), and now what is left is just what was there in the beginning: two restaurants, a social club, a bakery and an ice-cream parlor. (And an Ethiopian restaurant. And a Chinese take-out.) I haven't tried both Greek restaurants in the former "Greek Town", but was turned off years ago by dining at one of them: the tired and average Pete's "Greek Town" Cafe. Considering that Pete Contos now owns everything in former "Greek Town", I don't expect much more from the other place either (though I do appreciate the Greek touches in his famous Kitchen and University Cafe diners).

There is a metaphor somewhere in the unceremonious removal of the ragged "Greek Town" banners that marked a neighborhood that never really was, and though I am far too un-poetical to find it, I think there is at least a moral: one should look elsewhere in Denver for one's Greek food. That being said I have struggled to find a really good Greek-only restaurant in all of Denver (please enlighten me if you think there is one).

In the meantime, a good gyro spot is all I need sometimes, and for that Chef Zorba's on 12th and Fillmore, is perfect. Being a meat that is traditionally roasted on a spit, I love gyros. There are different kinds of gyros, and I happen to like them all, but I have a particular nostalgic soft spot for the hyper-processed, compressed meat-mix that is ubiquitous with the greasy gyro joint. In Chicago (where my gyro palate developed) this corner of the market is dominated by a company that specializes in mass producing/ industrializing Greek food; and if you have spent any time in Chicago you may have been enticed by one of their omnipresent posters displayed in the window of any corner gyro shop. They feature a variety of smiling 1980s-era models seductively offering you a bite of a Kronos Gyro. And although all these posters are somehow always sun-faded (even in a north-facing window) and at least 20 years old, they survive thanks to the timeless gaze in each model's eyes, a gaze that is only slightly less timeless than the processed meat in her hand.

(Iamges from Flickr and The Takeaway)

Chef Zorba's has this gyro. And they do a fine job of serving it with fat French fries, copious onion chunks, tomatoes and tzatziki sauce. And the pita is deliciously warm, thick and wonderfully buttery. If you are looking for the authentic processed gyro classic (apparently banned for a while in Greece), then look no further.

But the Greek menu doesn't stop there at Chef Zorba's, and though I have to admit I haven't sampled it extensively, what I have eaten there has passed as acceptable to good Greek food with an impressive amount of options including several calamari options that one wouldn't otherwise expect from an all-day breakfast-type place. The rest of the American and Mexican inspired menu is classic and well-executed diner food. The Greek 4-egg omelet with feta, gyro, bell pepper and onion served with tzatziki and hash browns is a favorite of mine, and the breakfast burrito will satisfy while at the same time put a hurt on any big plans for movement you had that day.

The meat. The spit. The Gyro.

Chef Zorba's has a lot to offer and is a welcoming place to have a meal because of its familiar diner feel and friendly, often refreshingly sarcastic servers, who will never let the bottom fall out of the bottomless cup of coffee you are drinking. There is also a full bar behind the classic lunch counter in the back. I owe it to my critical-ass self to get out and explore more Greek options in Denver, and I should probably start by trying some more stuff here. But until then, I'll always be stopping in for my gyro-fix at Chef Zorba's.

Visit Chef Zorba's and throw down on a Gyro. Or have breakfast anytime.