Perhaps I was possessed. Perhaps I was having a moment of Hellenic pride. Maybe I wanted to feel like I was on the island of Chios smelling the marina and humming along with all the traditional anthems. Perhaps I was hoping to break a few plates after toasting a wonderful plate of desperately sought out seafood in the desert. I am not sure what it was that night I simply had to have Greek food. I had a dream is more than an ABBA greek tribute. But here is my reality...
Having recieved awesome directions not thanks to my Garmin which placed the restuarant to the right versus the left off 19th and Camelback, but from the owner's wife, I pulled into an empty Tuesday night parking lot about an hour and a half before closing. Perhaps this was my very first mistake but with this economy, I realized that the place might have been hurting more than my yearning for horiatiki and tzatziki. Still, the women's voice was alluring and authentic and promising.
Enter stage left, a host. Truly, I thought that I was part of an elaborate prop set for what would be a Greek tragedy. The place is certainly capable visually of transporting you to Ellada. The place was also as barren as an off season tourist trap near Plakka. The two other people there seemed to be regulars.
I admit that I was VERY impressed with the menu. Again promising. I went ahead and ordered Ktopodi traditional and kalamarakia. Homemade bread that was made the last time the restaurant was full appeared at the table with sweet butter that was also frozen at that same time. A wine list featuring more Greek wines than anyplace else was also promising, but I knew I would have a long drive back and well, you know me and that speeding thing on Interstate 17...I digress...
After waiting for almost 25 minutes, I got one tentacle of what must have been the world's smallest octopus and that octopus was suffering from anorexia. It was camoflauged in a sea of fava bean paste to give it a fuller appearance. It was dry and not tasty. To be more clear... imagine a child's finger being grilled and placed in front of you after being dehydrated. Yea. That is what it was like.
The salad was fair.Meek, but fair. Nothing to really yelp about. The kalamarakia were horrid. I think they were anything but fresh as they were laden in overly fried onions and sopping in oil with the breading stripping away. I must have been desperate for the fruit of Poseiden to be enticed in any way to put a forkfull of this stuff in my mouth. It was the absolute worse that I have ever experienced. Hands down.
I am certain from the many posted accolades all over the walls of the place, that the GreekFest was indeed great. But its day has come and gone and its legendary service and cuisine is all but a page of mythology. I was extremely disappointed. I am only giving two stars because the server was ok and the setting and music was so authentic. I can only beg the Marvrides to consider a return themselves to their heritage of excellence that seems now so far away.