Plateia Mediterranean Kitchen

Libby Dulski
10/23/16
Restaurant Review: Part Two

Plateia Mediterranean Kitchen

“We have to order saganaki when we get there” my doting grandmother Roberta says as she turns onto Milwaukee Avenue.

“Saganaki? What’s saganaki?” I ask as we drive past Goodis Restaurant and then Wild Pita Mediterranean Grill; these are also both good Greek restaurants (so my grandmother claims.)

We are on our way to lunch at Plateia Mediterranean Kitchen in Glenview, Illinois. Glenview is home to a number of Greek restaurants, Plateia being one of them. If you ever find yourself leaving the shelter or your cramped dorm room and want to escape Kalamazoo, then make your way to Chicago and then go to Glenview (a suburb just thirty minutes outside of Chicago). Once in Glenview, I recommend heading over to Plateia.  

Greek gastronomy is a Mediterranean cuisine. Greek cooking uses a wide variety of olive oil, fish, wine, and meat such as poultry, lamb, and pork. There are certain ingredients that are essential in Greek cooking such as olives, cheese, eggplant, lemon juice, vegetables, and yoghurt. Traditional desserts use ingredients such as nuts, honey and fruit.

Plateia states that it wants its guests to experience the hospitality of the Greek culture with the taste of the Mediterranean. It claims to serve the best Non-GMO ingredients the Greek tradition can offer. The head Chef Mario uses the recipe for longevity from his native island of Ikaria, Greece- one of the five Blue Zones in the world where people live longer and healthier lives. Plateia also has traditional Greek-style crepes that use a family recipe from creperies located in Athens and Kalamata. If this description of Platea’s method of serving and preparing food does not convince you to try the restaurant, maybe a description of the actual restaurant and food will.

Inside of Plateia

Plateia is a large white building. It looks just as immaculate on the outside as it does on the inside. The space is huge and could easily hold over 200 people. Before we enter the restaurant, two adult men come out of the double wooden-doors of the restaurants. They are dressed in black suites with different colored ties. They exchange handshakes and get into their respective BMW and Audi. I tug at my decorative scarf hoping it can pass as “fancy.” The double doors lead into an airy room that contains several sub-rooms and a bar. They are separated by pillars that gives a sense of privacy yet still allows for a connected feeling.

The first thing we notice as we slide into our booth is that “Cold Water” by Justin Bieber is playing softly for music throughout the restaurant.

“This is not Greek music” my grandmother says while pushing her reading glasses down towards the edge of her nose while inspecting the black and white menu.

I hear Justin singing “And if you feel you’re sinking, I will jump right over/ Into cold, cold water for you.”

“The music really does not add to the mood does it?” I ask as I spot saganaki on the menu.

Our waitress is helpful and terse. She explains some of the signature dishes and brings us our drinks quickly. The pop is flat, but at least it is cold. The napkins are thick white pieces of cloth with blue stripes. The silverware is heavy; my silverware feels comfortable in my hand as I unravel my napkin.

Saganaki

“This silverware is nicer than the stuff at my house!” my grandmother exclaims as she holds a fork up to the ceiling to expect it. Our waitress gives her a gentle smile as she asks if we are ready to order. Plateia might be playing a hodgepodge of teen music, yet I set down my menu as my stomach grumbles. Hell yes I am ready to order my first ever Greek meal.

Lemon Soup

We are brought a large basket of warm bread. I dip a fluffy piece into yellow-green olive oil. The fresh bread and buttery oil are perfect to prepare my taste buds for the meal. The saganaki arrives first as an appetizer. My grandmother is disappointed that it arrives unlit and not on fire. We question the waitress as to why the dish, which is traditionally served on fire, is flameless. She shrugs and says that in Glenview they are not allowed to light it on fire; however, this is actually not true as Mykonos (another Greek restaurant in Glenview) serves its saganaki on fire. Nevertheless, the pan-seared cheese is delicious. The slight crust of the cooked cheese is complemented by the gooey and bubbly inside. The cheese is followed by a lovely lemon soup. The taste is so subtle and light I almost shed a tear. My grandmother and I agree that the feeling we receive from eating the lemon soup is like eating a beloved mother’s soup.

Wrapped Pita

My much anticipated entrée arrives after I take the final bite of saganaki. The dish I have chosen is called “Wrapped Pita.” It is served on a fluffy piece of warm pita bread. I bite into the warm wrap as Greek yogurt ranch drips out of the wrap onto my cottony napkin. The tomatoes are ripe and juicy and the lettuce has a nice crunch. The wrap has a tangy-sour taste that is complemented nicely with the feta that is sprinkled across my hand-cut French fries. Although French fries (for goodness’ sake they have the word “French” in the description) are not a traditional Greek cuisine, I appreciate the addition of feta to “authenticate” the fries.

           Still hungry, I eagerly order dessert. My grandmother and I decide to order two desserts and split them. The dessert menu is overflowing with chocolate. From gooey crepes filled with white chocolate, Nutella, and Oreo to Eclairs filled with layers of Nutella, the

Eclair

dessert menu did not disappoint. The biscotto crepe makes my mouth pucker from the amount of sugar. Nutella drips from my fork as a shovel a large portion of the thin pancake into my mouth. The Éclair is not quite up to my standards, and it is nothing like a traditional French éclair. This éclair is open faced; it more closely resembles a layered cake than a French tube-like eclair pastry. It also has layers of Nutella, along with vanilla custard and biscotto. It has a good contrast between crunchy and smooth as layers of crushed cookies come in contact with smooth Nutella. However, I much prefer the crepe, and my grandmother prefers the éclair.

Nutella Crepe

            Full and content, my grandmother and I leave through the large, wooden double doors out towards the car. 

            “So, Grandma, would you recommend this restaurant to the college kids from Kalamazoo?” I ask as I open the passenger door to the car.

            “Absolutely! I give it a 9/10” she says which is amazing because she is a tough grader.

            But I have to agree with her, and I am an even harder grader.

Grandma

Greek Food with Grandma

Libby Dulski

10/21/16
Restaurant Review: Part One

I would say that I have had a sophisticated taste in food for my age for most of my life. I have been eating raw fish in sushi since I was an infant, I had my first taste of foie gras when I was eight years old, and escargot has been one of my favorite dishes since I was eleven. Therefore, I would say that I am not afraid to try and experience new foods and look forward to eating foreign foods. However, I have never really eaten Greek food. Therefore, my grandmother and I have decided to make the ten-minute car drive from her house in Glenview, Illinois to go to the restaurant Plateia Mediterranean Kitchen. For me, eating this Mediterranean- Greek inspired meal will be a new experience that I hope will expand my perception of food.

            Plateia’s website says that it wants its guests to experience the hospitality of the Greek culture with the taste of the Mediterranean. The website also states that it uses the best Non-GMO ingredients the Greek tradition can offer. I honestly have no if I will enjoy this meal; the menu contains many names of dishes that I have never heard of and that I struggle to even pronounce. I notice that there are many different dishes containing chicken, perhaps chicken is a signature dish in Mediterranean food. I plan to ask my waiter which entrée he/she recommends because I have no idea which dish would be the best to eat.

            I am worried that the unfamiliar foods will overwhelm me and that I will not be able to decide what to eat. However, I am convinced that no matter what I order it will be delicious because my grandmother assures me that Greek food is “even better than Chicago-dogs” (if that is even possible). I am also more at ease with this Greek meal because my grandmother eats Greek food relatively often. My grandmother and I plan to share the dishes we order so that I can experience as many dishes as possible. We plan on ordering an appetizer, two entrees, and a dessert (or two).

            I am also worried that I will appear rude as I conduct this food review. Throughout the meal I will have my phone out so that I can take short notes on different aspects of the meal and note the atmosphere of the restaurant. Plateia is a “fancy” restaurant, and I hope that I do not appear to be too rude as I take notes on my phone and take pictures of my food like a silly-tourist. Perhaps I will tell my waiter/waitress that I am writing a restaurant review. I have not yet decided if I will disclose this information to the waitress/waiter yet. I also have yet to decide if I should ask the waitress/waiter for information about Mediterranean and Greek food to see if they are well-informed about the food they are serving. There are many aspects that I will decide in the moment while I am actually at the restaurant.

            I hope that I enjoy the meal and that I leave wanting to eat more Greek food in the future. There is nothing worse than leaving a restaurant and feeling disappointed about the food and the experience as a whole. Overall, I am optimistic and excited to visit Plateia and taste (hopefully) good Greek food.

Casseroles and Rats

Libby Dulski
10/12/16
Reading Response #7
Secret Ingredients: pg. 103-157 & 277-335

From this reading, I found that two chapters in particular resonated with me. The chapters “Nor Censure Nor Disdain” by M.F.K. Fisher and Peter Hessler’s “A Rat in my Soup” were my favorites to read. Perhaps it is because Sarena talked about casseroles in her memoir, but I was drawn to Fisher’s chapter dedicated to casseroles. The opening statement immediately captured my attention as Fisher describes that “casseroles are, I think, an American phenomenon, like Coke and chewing gum, and by many traditionalists they are put somewhat disdainfully into the same category. [Yet] they are probably well on their way around the world, not far behind the ubiquitous soft drink and pacifier, as more people live hastier lives everywhere” (115). Casseroles are convenient if they are nothing else. I like to think that every American family has grown up with some version of a casserole. I know that in my family my mother likes to make casseroles when there are plenty of leftovers that have gone uneaten. Pounds of stuffing, mashed potatoes, and asparagus eventually end up in a glass dish and baked together into a thanksgiving casserole. Because, after all, anything goes into a casserole.

Along with all-inclusive casseroles, I found that the chapter about Luogang, China was intriguing and memorable. Hessler describes that he had “come here on a whim, having heard that Luogang had a famous restaurant that specialized in the preparation of rats” (303). As I read that statement I had to pause from my reading. Rats? Had I read that correctly? Was this person really going to eat the creature that I often find drowned in water pails outside of our chicken coop? I was not mistaken, Hessler was going to eat rat. But not just any rat: He was going to eat “rats from the mountains… the mountain rats are clean, because up there they aren’t eating anything dirty. Mostly they at fruit-oranges, plums, jackfruit” (304). The thought that a rat could be clean is a ridiculous. I found it even more ridiculous that in Luogang, rats are more expensive than pork or chicken. I try to picture an American buying rat from a grocery store as they compare the prices of packaged rat to those of chicken breast. The idea is absurd. Throughout this reading I kept thinking about the rats that I would scoop out of the water buckets that encircle the chicken coops. The rats would be slimy and wet. Their fur would be matted down onto their skinny bone-riddled body. Their eyes would still be open and the panic would be forever etched onto their little drowned faces. I would have to carry these limp creatures in my gloved-hand over to the forest where I would fling the beast into the woods. I could never imagine gnawing on the bones of rats, or eating rat soup garnished with leeks and carrots. As much as I am disgusted by the thought of eating rat, I cannot help but be intrigued. Perhaps I will add rat to my list of foods I must try.