Thirteen years ago when they opened their doors, Pita Inn was a simple dive of a Middle Eastern diner sporting a half dozen smiling, swarthy cooks slinging Shawarma and shish kabab behind a little counter. I made a weekly pilgrimage here for lunch and even then, there was always a line.
These days, since Pita Inn has garnered rave reviews from the local food critics and won awards from major restaurant organizations, it has gone a bit upscale. The location hasn’t changed (it’s still in an unfortunate suburban strip mall) but the little trees, now twice as tall, twinkle with white lights. The dining room has been revitalized with mirrors and appropriate art works, and the lines are even longer. Thankfully, the prices are still ridiculously low. (Please don’t tell them I said that.)
Turnover is likely the key to Pita Inn’s frugality. The pace is feverish behind the cook’s counter. The night I returned recently to indulge my long-denied passion at 9:30 p.m., throngs of people crowded around the order takers and waited expectantly as scores of platters filled by at least a dozen cooks crammed in the tiny kitchen area were delivered in rapid fire succession. Falafil (ground chick pea patties seasoned and fried - $1.95), tabouley (parsley and tomato salad - $1.25) and baba ghannoug (eggplant and tahini dip - $1.35) were set before them hot off the griddle, gleaming with the colors and aromas that only the freshest ingredients conjure. Things sell too fast here to ever get stale.
My favorite menu item is the Jerusalem salad, something I’ve never found this tasty elsewhere. It is so good, in fact, that I often snap up a jumbo size ($2.25) mixture of tomatoes, cucumbers and mint swimming in a tahini based cream sauce. This provides the perfect accompaniment to the signature item - the thing that really put Pita Inn on the culinary map - homemade Pita bread. Sweet, tender, warm and fragrant, it is the proverbial manna in the desert.
Did someone say dessert? Typically after clients return their trays, they come back to the counter and order another round, this time for sweet tea and baklawa. The honey-laced layers of phyllo dough and ground nuts, priced at $.85, has been the culprit for many a case of overindulgence.
It’s unusual for a suburban eatery to stay open past 10pm, but Pita Inn caters to a crowd that seems to make its own hours. After eavesdropping on the various languages spoken throughout the rowdy dining room, (heavy in Arabic) one gets the impression that many are still on Middle Eastern time zones. Or perhaps they, like me, had recently awoken from a late day nap. To accommodate the loyal clientele, Pita Inn remains open until 11pm weekdays and midnight on weekends. It’s a good bet that if they decided to go 24/7, there would still be a queue.