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| - Tucked away in the armpit of Yorkville, behind Cumberland Terrace, Eat A Pita is designed for people like us; you know, the types who while away bored hours at work microblogging about restaurants.
Every morning, I pass Eat a Pita as walk to my office and wonder:
1) Is this place still open?
2) Who eats here?
3) Is this some kind of mobbed up tax dodge?
4) When do the condos go up? (Yorkville needs more condos).
Forlorn signs announce the daily specials- Middle Eastern standards like Shawarma, Falafel, and everything you wanted to know about eggplant but were afraid to ask. Faded photos promise a feast in the window, yet mask a dreary brown-on-brown hole, with a short steam table and cramped cash register.
The physical space is almost an afterthought; a grudging reminder of Ontario's ridiculous anti-street-food bylaws. One wishes that places like Eat A Pita would lead a falafel intifada against our oppressive city-state. But I digress...
After hearing enough foodie friends raving about this place, and following careful monitoring of internet dining review forums *ahem* I am convinced that Eat A Pita is the ultimate in informal dining. I put on my Anthony Bourdain boots, saddle up and ride, for a new culinary adventure awaits.
At lunch, Eat A Pita is an entirely different place. The décor is still nonexistent, but the tiny joint is packed, and a line snakes out the door. The air inside smells of garlic and grease, and you jostle your way to the counter, where some sleepy-eyed tattooed dude takes your order.
Be careful when you ask for one of the posted specials. Like your mom probably told you when you failed miserably at piano, or baseball, or math, everything is "special". One day, instead of the sizzling chicken shawarma, I am greeted with sinewy, veinous beef cooked grey on a flat-top. No attempt is made to fix the miscommunication. The chopped veg, tabbouleh and garlic sauce make the sandwich passable.
To give peace a chance, I return the next day for the chicken version. I'm glad I did; the meat is a happy yellow; bathed in its own fat and juices, and crispy bronze where it came closest to the heat.
A third visit produces a vegetarian plate and disappointment. Falafel balls are fried in front of me, yet go soggy quickly. They are salty and dry. Cauliflower has wilted on the steam-table, and lentils and rice fail to inspire, though they may win praise from anemic vegetarians for their "complete protein" combo. I'll get my amino acids elsewhere, thanks. Again, the salad is the star, along with rich and smokey eggplant.
As foodie finds go, Eat-a-Pita wins by setting low expectations for ambiance and price. No meal costs more than $7, including a can of soda, which is a steal for Yorkville. If one is looking for a place to park one's BMW and enjoy a more refined meal, there are plenty of options nearby.
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