It’s Greek to me
When Casca uttered the line, “For mine own part, it was Greek to me” (Julius Caesar, Act 1 Scene 2), he was talking about a speech that was delivered in Greek and, thus, to him, completely incomprehensible.
In modern usage, "It's Greek to me" has become a colloquial expression used to convey a lack of understanding or confusion regarding a particular topic or subject matter. The phrase suggests that the speaker finds the information or explanation difficult to grasp, much like encountering an unfamiliar language, and has come to signify anything completely baffling or beyond someone's understanding.
And that sums up how I felt when I left John the Greek Restaurant in San Antonio, Texas. Lo! If the goal of John the Greek were to get me to relate to a 1st-century Roman senator in a Shakespearean play, well, then this foray into Greco cuisine could be considered a success.
Atmosphere and Ambiance
The first sign of trouble was the restaurant itself. The building on San Pedro looked a bit tired. The paint seemed chipped in a few places, and the awning was faded to a dull teal.
Walking in, the musty scent did little to enhance the mood. The restaurant's interior was clean and tidy, but it lacked warmth and character. The wallpaper, a faded testament to a past filled with moussaka and sweet, flaky baklava done right. Those days are long gone. Instead, a cozy and inviting atmosphere is replaced by an unsettling quiet, broken only by the occasional cough or the clatter of silverware. The decor is outdated and could benefit from a refresh. I went in hoping to be transported to whitewashed walls and blue-domed houses overlooking the Aegean Sea. Instead, I left feeling like I had just spent the last hour in 1960s Mid America, which is very much not the Greek Isles
.
A Glimmer of Hope?
The service was very pleasant. A beacon of warmth in an otherwise dreary establishment, I was greeted and seated right away. Well, hospitality goes a long way. All my questions were answered, and the rest of the interactions were polite and friendly.
Flavors Lost in Translation
The biggest letdown was the taste. The vibrant Greek flavors I expected were muted and forgettable. The seasoning was bland, the herbs seemed absent, and the overall impression was one of a rushed, reheated meal. I started with the fasolada-a soup some would consider the national food of Greece- consisting of white beans, tomatoes, olive oil, and a medley of vegetables such as carrots and celery
. With some seasoning, this dish could have been a winner. Fine, fair enough; there are salt and pepper shakers at the table. Except, well, the top of the salt shaker was crusted over, and the rice added to ensure a free flow of salt was oxidized to a yellow hue reminiscent of the teeth of someone who enjoys a good Marlboro every once and again. I don’t think rice is supposed to turn that color. But I could be wrong.
Moussaka, a hearty dish overflowing with layers of seasoned ground lamb, eggplant, and creamy béchamel sauce, normally a pillar of the often-overlooked culture that is Greek food, was severely lacking. The lamb was dry and sparse, the eggplant slices thin and limp, and the béchamel sauce tasted suspiciously like a store-bought variety. ”Et tu, Brute?” (Julius Caesar, Act 3 scene 1) It’s hard not to take this personally, as I absolutely love moussaka, but this feels like a betrayal. Even the noodles felt more like Chef Boyardee than Nicholas Tselementes (A chef and cookbook author considered the founder of modern Greek cooking). Likewise, the spanakopita was underwhelming. A mixture of spinach and feta cheese encased in filo dough, spanakopita should be light and fun and, most importantly, full of flavor. And while the feta-spinach mixture was pleasant, it did fall short on the flavor scale. Sadly, in both the spanakopita and spanakorizo the spinach most likely started the day in frozen mass tucked away in the freezer.
Hey, I get it. Inflation is an impenetrable hoplite phalanx, and food costs the waves of Xerxes’ immortals, but oh, for some fresh ingredients! On a positive note, the gyro and Tzatziki were good, and I would try a takeout gyro from John the Greek.
A Final Word
John the Greek Restaurant has a long history in San Antonio, and I truly hope they can turn things around. If they can recapture the magic of their earlier days—the generous portions, the vibrant flavors, and the warm hospitality—they might win back customers like me. And while every establishment can have an off night, this was not the first time dining at John the Greek. The combination of uninspired food and less than speckless interiors left me feeling, well, like this restaurant is Greek to me.
Stay hungry my friends!