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11/21/2003: "Greeks Bearing Food"

My Big Fat Greek Wedding is, as you know, a movie about a wedding. Almost all of the characters are Greek, and almost all these Greeks do is eat. If they're not eating, they're cooking. The movie takes place in Chicago's Greektown, where the bride's family owns a restaurant. Click more.. below.

All this is well and good, and it's a great movie; see it if you haven't already, but my problem is that I've seen this movie three times since I've been to a Greek restaurant and it's killing me. Well, tonight's the night.

Chicago has a reputation for ethnic restaurants, and, after Italian, Greek restaurant's have to rank No. 1. They are, of course, in Greektown, just west of the loop (Chicago's downtown area), but they can be found all over the city; the suburbs have some Greektown spinoff restaurants every bit as good as the originals. I'm going to hit one of those tonight. It's a spinoff of the Greektown restaurant "Greek Isles" and shares the name.

My beloved and I share the same birthday, and we're going there to celebrate tonight. Greek restaurants are special thing for us, not just because we both love the food, but because our first date was at the Parthenon. The Parthenon was probably Greektown's finest restaurant. Unfortunately, it closed not too long ago. It was always one of my favorites because it had a parking lot with attendants, and you could cab somewhere else after dinner without worrying about your car. Women enjoyed the Parthenon too, but for different reasons. They enjoyed the waiters, dark and lean with white shirts and tight black pants. And they all seemed to have an eye for women.

I'll tell you a story about those waiters, and credit an ex of mine. She was standing in an office cubicle listening to a female friend describe her good luck at getting only tall and handsome Greek waiters at the Parthenon. "Not me," she responded, "the only waiters I get there are short, fat, and bald." At that moment a short, fat, and bald male eavesdropper piped up, "Some of us might take offense at that." "Why," came the retort, "you're not Greek."

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