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| - "Let's meet at the Chandler Pita Jungle!" texts fiddle r dee. "What's it near? Like the mall proper?" I text back. "Dobson and Ray!" she exclaims (she's easily excitable it's pretty cute the first hundred thousand times but after that it's like wha'ev's :p) "What the hell!?! That's not near the mall!!!" I shout in my mind. I had no idea that there was anything else in Chandler besides that obnoxious mall, an In-n-Out Burger, and were all the house wives whose husbands aren't wealthy enough to give them houses in Scottsdale lived. I couldn't believe it. Amazing.
So I park the chrome trimmed tank and burst through the doors looking for the fiddle r and a bunch of friggin' ducks that she has been eyeballing for lunch. She urged me several times in class via text to hurry because raw duck gives her indigestion and she didn't think the proprietors would look favorably upon her preparing her own lunch on the patio (unlike the Monastery). She was ravenous and there's a fierceness that comes out when she gets that way. It would be scary if it didn't makes me giggle. Anywhodunnit, yah, a friggin' patio and with friggin' ducks! I love friggin' ducks! Oh yah, around noon this place is filled with soccer moms mostly minus their spawn but a couple of the moms stole them away from their nannies long enough to show the brats off to the other soccer moms. I imagine the conversations go a little like this, "Look how much more better and how much more pretty my baby, I forget its name, is than your baby that you forgot its name is." "oh yah, but at least my husband, I forget his name, bought me better tits than your husband, you forget his name, did." and then they go runnin' for the shelter of their mothers' little helper... I think this is why I wasn't really noticed when I first walked in and asked about the ducks I look nothing like these people, my soul had not been crushed by the fact that I sold my dreams for a cookie cutter cardboard existence (mostly because I sold my soul in 4th grade, a long time ago).
I finally found fiddle r at her table on the patio and exchanged glares I sat to wait another ten minutes until someone asked us if we needed help. Luckily for the staff the conversation was fairly good otherwise the fork that Ms. fiddle r was fiddling (she's an amazing fiddler) with would have ended up in someone's temple a couple of times.
When we finally received a bit of wait attention nothing on the menu jumped out at me. I was thinking lamb or pork gyro. Sad face for Howard, beef gyro for me. Fiddle r ordered the Lavosh Shwarma wrap that read like it might be the good side of yummy but I didn't want to order the same thing because I wanted to be different.
I've been to one other Pita Jungle (across from MCC in Mesa on Southern) three times in total but have never been overly impressed by them but seemed fairly competent. This one fell inline with it's sister store even with the strange beef in the gyro that I think they try to make look like lamb but in rectangular slices. WHERE IS THE FRIGGIN' LAMB!?! The exception as far as the food is concerned was the Blue Corn Nachos that fiddle r ordered for us. Someone in the kitchen dumped a bucket of goodness onto a plate and slathered it with cheesy gooey-ness! Yum! Fiddle r and I enjoyed it muchly as did the ducks. And actually ducks like a lot of things I wouldn't have thought like tomatoes, beans, beef, and chicken. I wished they served duck because that would have been hilarious.
What made this place fun was not the food (2.25-2.5 stars - I changed my mind.) and definitely not the service we received (2 stars, I wasn't even asked if I wanted another beer) it was the shaded friggin' patio located on the edge of a man-made lake-ish type water feature and the friggin' ducks and as always the friggin' company.
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