Breaking Bread

After learning how to correctly pronounce it, the only food I want in Athens is a gyro. The fact that I don’t eat lamb is not going to deter me. My friend and I find a bustling eatery, and I order the sandwich while explaining I don’t want the meat. The cashier seems to understand and takes my money. When my gyro arrives, I cautiously open it to ensure no animal parts have made their way into my meal.

It’s filled with french fries.

That’s odd, I think. But I then settle on the bursting flavors of fresh vegetables and dill, and don’t give the fries much attention.

The next time we’re hungry for gyro, we find a new restaurant. I again explain that I want a vegetarian gyro, and the cashier again seems to understand. When I bite into the piping hot sandwich, though, I encounter something strange.

It’s filled with french fries.

I love my carbs, and so I don’t complain that ‘vegetarian’ is apparently Greek code for ‘salty, greasy slabs of potato.’ I mentally tuck away that knowledge for the next veg friend who travels down the Aegean way.

Years later, I am reminded of this experience when ordering a vegetarian salad in a Greek restaurant in Munich. This time, rather than fries, my plate is filled to the brim with tomatoes. Tomatoes=ketchup=fries? I guess I’ll never know. 

Have you had an unusual food substitution while abroad?


One thought on “Breaking Bread

  1. Pingback: A Meal as Vast as the Sahara | Seat 6A

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