If you really want to hear about it, the first thing i noticed is that friend's are always…read moresearching for Frankie's Souvlaki, driving around like a bunch of lunatics.
Once youbfind it, the truck that is, the menu shows prices and an "A" grade inspection sticker. Everyone gets so impressed by a little paper letter from the city, like an "A" means the guy cooking the meat is a saint or something.
This whole food setup, it's about as ridiculous and depressing as anything I've ever seen.
First off, you walk up to the blue food truck, and the side of it is completely covered with a giant menu listing every combination of meat, rice, and pitas you could ever imagine.
Then you get the food you I orderedin a shouting voice, everyone is shouting, it's a total circus. They hand us our two giant skewers souvlaki sticks, somebody had the brilliant idea to stick big, thick slabs of bread right on top of the skewers like stupid little helmets.
So there you are, standing on the sidewalk in dirty Jackson Heights holding two sticks of meat while the counterman in front of you is not exactly smiling, dude looks pissed. He's wearing a jacket over a shirt with a giant, goofy panda face on it, looking like a complete weirdo.
If you don't get the sticks, you can get these aluminum takeout tins sitting on a tray, crammed full of heavy yellow rice, grilled meat, and pitas all wrapped up in branded paper.
We also ordered a big white plate covered in chopped-up chicken, black olives, white sauce.
It all smells like char and grease, and it's supposed to be the "best souvlaki" around, but the whole experience just leaves you feeling sort of sad and greasy. It really does.