There’s a helluva lot of high-level wankery that goes into most food writing. Oh, the gold-foiled toile wasn’t crisp enough? Your sage cloud was flaccid? You thought the saffron moat was unimaginative? Shut up and eat your free food, you teat-suckling gronk (unless you’re good enough to make being mean exceptionally funny, in which case, carry on).
HOWEVER. I will put aside my prejudice against culinary criticism in this one particular case, in order to give a slow clap of approval to New York Times food writer Sam Sifton. This mad yank recently filed a piece in which he lost his absolute shit over a pork gyros from Melbourne, and that is something I can definitely get behind.
Entitled ‘How Did I Not Know About Pork Gyros?‘, the lengthy rumination centres on a life-changing experience at Kalimera Souvlaki Art in Oakleigh, where his friend bought him a god damn pork gyros and nearly blew his blessed mind:
“The dish was as marvellous and strange to me as a wallaby or a kangaroo. Imagine not knowing about strawberry ice cream, then eating your first bite. It was a little like that. You wouldn’t tell anyone. Too embarrassing.”
Sifton’s embarrassment is your gluttonous bounty, though – Kalimera Souvlaki Art is by all accounts an absolute ripper of a joint (Ben Shewry of Attica is a big fan), and if you’re anywhere near them you’d be mad to not go and score a pork gyros post haste.
Plus, their response to their new-found fame is absolutely adorable:
Here’s hoping they go national.
Source: New York Times.
Image: Facebook / Kalimera Souvlaki Art.
