Aladdin’s Gyro-cery

This weeks AveEater: Mike

Aladdin’s Gyro-cery calls to me.  It whispers sweet-nothings to me as I amble to the post office, tempting me with its Mediterranean aromas and awkwardly assembled décor.  Perhaps no other establishment on the Ave defines the character of this street quite like Aladdin’s Gyro-cery.  It is an institution, a tradition, and an experience all in one.

Not to be confused with other gyro stands on the ave,

not affiliated with those other aladdin asshats

Aladdin’s is slinging Gyros and falafels by the dozen, and they want you to get in, order, pay (cash only), and move on back to make room for more gyro-scarfing undergrads.  “The back” is a weird and wondrous cave of treasures, sparkling and gleaming in ersatz beauty.  Imitation tapestries depicting the Ka’aba adorn the walls, along with your average camel-themed posters.

Camel Themes

There’s even a covered booth type area that is ostensibly there for loungin’  – hookah style, though I’ve never actually witnessed anyone even remotely loungin’.  Or any hookahs for that matter. It’s more of a visual aid to get you in the loungin’ head-space while you devour your sammich.

Part of the reason for the lack of loungin’ may that it is always cold as hell in the back of Aladdin’s gyro-cery.  Deal with it.

Service:  Efficient.  You take a gander at the giant menu above, then walk up to the counter and place your order. If you don’t got cash, you get the fuck out.

Dude takes your money and gives you a number.  You drop that sucker on your table and presto!  another dude comes out with your falafel on a cafeteria style tray in about 3 minutes, or however long it takes em to shave that wheel of meat.  No frills.

Ambiance:  Aladdin’s ambiance grows on you – like that fungus you’ve had for a while, but you can’t really be bothered to find the tube of ointment you need to get rid of it, and then you realize you sort of enjoy the itching.  It grows on you like that.  It’s florescent light and tile, and somewhat unkempt – but it feels comfortable somehow, like I could spend a few hours in here chatting with an old friend.  Except it’s always so damn cold.

Cleanliness: There’s a difference between cluttered, and filthy.  Aladdin’s is not Mr. Clean clean, but it’s not exactly dirty either.  It’s a weird little netherworld where you’re okay with it being slightly sticky.

Colon consequences: Personally, I’ve never had one problem.  But I have been around the office when people have retroactively cursed Aladdin’s.

Originality/surprises:  Just great Gyro type fare and Baklava if you want it.  It ain’t fancy but it’s good.

Taste: Aladdin’s doesn’t disappoint in the meat-wheel category.  I feel like the falafel is somewhat lacking, but that may be largely due to the fact that they substitute the tahini for the tzatziki in the falafel, and I want that Tzatziki

Ave Factor:  This may be the quintessential Ave Factor establishment.  It’s appeal is undeniable, and yet undefinable.  Aladdin’s is truly more than the sum of its parts, and will always have a special place in my heart.  I’ll give you an example of its oddness.  On occasion, if you’re lucky, they may have Shasta colas in the little fridges that line the hall.  Who has Shasta?

Shannon Shasta

This gives me a chance to also test a theory on our intrepid readers:

I have some evidence to suggest that younger siblings love fake grape flavored things and older siblings detest it.  Let your voice be heard!

Value:  Let is not omit this important category.  $5 for a sandwich, $7 for a meal deal.  That’s your best value.

9/10 Tzatzikis

lastly, Awkward photos galore:

devourin’

Loungin’

Till next time!