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I think I’m on an official Greek bender. And, no, I’m not talking about frat houses and beer bongs.
It’s the food. I’m really on a roll lately, mainly because of the impossible cravings for the Greek salad at My Big Fat Greek Cafe, a mom & pop cafe on South Broadway. Those are at least fairly healthy cravings. When it’s not the salad, I’m in there ordering the Gyro scramble (hangover breakfast heaven, fyi), or gobbling up the Spanakopita spinach pie.
It’s totally out of control. Last Saturday night at Charlie Brown’s, I discovered the Greek pizza. Greek food – and pizza – together? How could I resist? I had the leftovers, cold, for breakfast Sunday. I’m thinking about going back tonight for more. What is wrong with me?
And to top it all off, just the other night, I rented Troy. Coincidence? I think not.
Obviously, I’m the victim of a Greek conspiracy. More on that later. For now, I’ve got to find the closest source for fresh dolmades.