Shish

The Cheapskate

I had the very best mousaka of my life (I usually spell it moussaka but I’m going with the official Shish menu here). It was the special of the day, so I hope you are as lucky as I was when you visit Shish. The eggplant and potato slices were perfectly cooked, the seasoned ground meat layer was subtly scented with cinnamon or something similarly delightful and unexpected (to my palate at least), and the custardy top layer was light as a feather and delicately flavored. Yum.

 

And the Turkish coffee. I could write pages about it. Fresh off the burner in the traditional little brass (or maybe copper) pot with the long handle, the Turkish coffee at Shish is my favorite in town so far. It’s got the traditional mud of powder-fine coffee grounds in the bottom, it’s generously sweetened and spiced with cardamom, and you get to pour it into a tiny, exquisite china cup and saucer. Turkish coffee is meant to be lingered over, but unfortunately the other three were sitting out in the car double-parked, waiting for me to gulp it down so that we could keep our working lunch down to … two hours.

 

I would not say the service was slow – it was blazing at warp speed all around us. But there were only two people sprinting around to staff the whole front end operation on a very brisk lunch hour.

 

The owner was helping the cook, taking orders, and running food to tables, while the apparently only other staff member was similarly multitasking. The wait was within reason for the entrees, but our baklava dessert took 10 minutes to order (starting over at the back of the lunch order line) and 20 more minutes to put on a plate and deliver to the table.

 

But why quibble when the food is this good and the prices, while not exactly true cheapskate territory (that’s $5 or less), are very reasonable. Go early, like we did (arriving before 11 a.m. for lunch), or go late, after the rush. Order your dessert right when you order your food.

 

And when you do have to wait, amuse yourselves, as we did, with a little game of “Gee, do you think that free-spirited intellectual in the Russian fur-lined hat and Birkenstocks goes to Macalester?”

 

The Food Snob

 

The food at Shish made me wonder why peace in the Middle East is so hard to achieve. After all, much of the food is similar – same herbs, spices, respect for vegetables and use of meat almost as a condiment. Which is why I asked the owner of Shish (several times) the nationality of his cuisine. “Jerusalem,” he said finally, acknowledging almost sheepishly that he was half Israeli and half Palestinian.

 

“Do you go home and beat yourself up?” asked the Bachelor in one of his politically incorrect moments. Yet it broke the tension, the same discomfort I’ve observed at other Middle Eastern restaurants, even the ones that call themselves Greek or Mediterranean.

 

I believe food should transcend politics and it’s hard to be partisan when your mouth is full. During our lunch at Shish, my mouth was almost as busy as my hand, which was sneaking on to everyone else’s plates to steal grilled vegetables (the Bachelor’s veggie kebab), yellow rice and chunks of lamb (Chowhound’s kebab), and huge bites of that succulent mousaka. It was a two-way street. I put my giant pile of fries in the middle of the table and they disappeared in record time. I refused to share my lamb burger though. It was too good, sparked with fresh mint and served with a salad bursting with tomatoes, olives, fresh greens (and vitamins too I’m sure).

 

If only the food had been the center of attention at Shish. In fact, it was hard not to be sucked into the chaos all around us. The staff were so overwhelmed that I wanted to get up and help. Instead, I chafed while waiting for our pastries – sitting right there in plain view in the dessert case – to be put on a plate. As for the aforementioned Turkish coffee: Cheapy and I both ordered decaf, but the server said one of them was caffeinated. We asked for a replacement, which came quickly – too quickly. It reminded me of the old caterer’s maxim: “If they want decaf, just tell them it’s decaf.” Perhaps my superhuman energy that afternoon came from creative inspiration, or a pre-menopausal power surge. I think it was the concentrated caffeine in that syrupy Turkish elixir.

 

The Bachelor

According to that sentry of truth and accuracy called Wikipedia, a hookah is “a multi-stemmed, often glass-based water pipe device for smoking. It can be used for smoking many substances, such as herbal fruits, tobacco, or cannabis.” Of course, had I gone online just a few minutes later, it could have just as easily been defined on Wikipedia as “a rust-colored toupee worn by albino Scottish monks” or “the odor produced by potatoes that have sat in your cupboard for more than eight months.”

 

Thankfully, I have had my fleeting encounters with our friend (one of my closest “buds”) the hookah, so I know its true and noble purpose. Although “herbal fruits”??? Hey, I went to college, and I never saw anyone try to cram a Honeycrisp into a hookah!

 

My point? Good question. Not sure I have one. But I did spot a hookah adorning the wall at Shish. Alas, it seemed pristine, a mere decoration that has never felt the loving flame of a Zippo.

 

Indeed, much of Shish felt a little too sterile, a little too … oh, I don’t know … Pier One, if you know what I’m sayin’. I like a little grit with my ethnic dining, a little sketchiness. Shish was like dining in my dentist’s waiting room. In other words, it was altogether too respectable and pleasant for me.

 

But if you’re into that sort of thing, you’ll feel right at home at Shish. My veggie kabab was decent , but like the atmosphere, it was missing a little something. A sauce of some sort would have been nice – cucumber, mayonnaise, butter – you know, dippin’ sauce. I will say that the vegetables were grilled beautifully, to the point where even I said, “Hey, these vegetables taste different somehow!” However, I feel they did not need to provide me with an ENTIRE onion. My eyes would have been just as watery and bloodshot had they served me that hookah for dessert.

 

 

The Chowhound

Me: So where is Sheesh?

Everyone else in the car: (laughter) It’s Shish, as in shish kebab, duh.

 

Now that we’re all pronouncing the name the same way, I can start by saying that Shish is great lunch spot. The fast food style ordering (think McDonald’s menu on the wall, but much nicer) means that as long as you get there a few minutes before the lunch rush you won’t wait long in line and your food will be delivered quickly to your table. It may be too informal for a romantic dinner, but it works just fine for lunch.

 

Wanting to stick with something familiar, I ordered the lamb kebabs. But that didn’t stop me from sampling some of the other dishes on our table. I loved the Cheapskate’s mousaka. Had we not been on opposite ends of the table I would have easily stolen several more bites. You see, growing up with three siblings I became the master of sneaky food tactics. Whether I was swiping the desirable cherry in the canned fruit cocktail from my sister’s plate or draining my brother’s glass of water, I always went undetected. It was with this stealth that I also admit stealing a bite of the Food Snob’s lamb burger. I know it was wrong, but I’d do it again.

 

Just like the other dishes, my lamb kebabs were delicious. They came squished tightly together, so tight that at first I thought I was about to eat two long lamb tubes. I breathed a sigh of relief when one by one they slid off the skewer. Because of their close proximity to each other, the meat was very tender, especially the larger chunks. I should also point out, if only to rub it in the Bachelor’s face one more time, that my kebabs came with a tasty white sauce. I’m not sure what it was, but it did the trick.

 

So whether you’re looking for a yummy shish kebab or just want to mooch off of your friends’ lunch plates, then Shish (remember, it’s not sheesh) is the place to go.

Contact us: withoutres@yahoo.com.

Shish – A Mediterranean Grill & Cafe
1668 Grand Avenue

651-690-2212

www. shishcafe.net