Theo’s Kitchen delivers the Greek
Thompson: ’80s-era eatery serves classic Mediterranean/Middle East dishes with a side of chicken.
Theo’s Kitchen, a 1980s-era Orlando eatery, serves up classic Mediterranean/Middle Eastern dishes — or, you know, a three-piece chicken basket with fried okra and hush puppies.
Wait, what? Longtime customers of Theo’s Kitchen, which was making the Hourglass District cool (or at the very least, tasty) decades before savvy developers decided to brand this stretch of Curry Ford Road, won’t blink at this. They’ve known Theo’s as a familyrun purveyor of both Mediterranean/Middle Eastern fare and tasty fried chicken since it opened in 1989.
I didn’t know any of this, though, until a friend told me about the place, so I reasoned there’d be readers out there who might be new to Theo’s Kitchen, as well.
On my first visit, though, I puzzled — there wasn’t a customer in sight as we strode to the counter to order. The place is clean and orderly, tables and chairs all match, but otherwise unremarkable. A few Greek bits of décor, a family
photo (nice touch), menu boards, plastic bins for typical take-out accoutrements, a flurry of activity somewhat visible through the small kitchen-order window.
“What’s the fried chicken connection?” I asked as we pondered the selection.
This is the second location for Theo’s, I was told. The first, not far from this one, was previously a Maryland Fried Chicken. They decided to keep chicken on the menu when the eatery changed hands, modifying the recipe some over time.
With great success, I surmised as I turned with my numbered placard. A line had formed behind me since walking in. It stretched nearly to the door.
We went with a little from Column A and a little from Column B, as the saying goes, and as we sat waiting, there came a steady stream of customers. By the time our food arrived, the place was near capacity and several folks were waiting for take-out orders.
I noted, as our food was set down, that I’d only purchased two small triangles of baklava and she’d brought more than double.
“Eh, it was everything that was left in the case,” she said cheerily, and walked away.
Family restaurants are the undisputed kings of such unregulated generosity.
The Gyro King ($6.99) was stuffed with meat, onion, slightly clunky tomato hunks and a generous portion (I almost want to say “ladling”) of tzatziki sauce made better by creamy crumbled Feta, though I’d recommend opening the foil to distribute throughout the gyro, then re-wrapping. Otherwise, you’ll either lose a lot to the plate, get way more than you want in the couple of bites and none on the back half, or both.
The chicken — wow, was it fresh-out-the-fryer hot! Steam rose as we cracked into it. Fingers were licked. The three-piece snack portion consists of a breast, thigh and leg for $6.49 — no sides. I knew my daughter would claim the breast (I’m generally dark meat over light), but I stole a few tastes and it was quite juicy. Crisp skin, well-seasoned — but nothing, thankfully, like the bark-like casing you’ll find at fast-food fried chicken joints.
In fact, it was even better the next time, when I opted to take out as so many customers do.
By the time I got it back to my desk, the chicken was still crispy but a more handleable temp, allowing the drumstick to be lifted and gingerly bitten (because eating fried chicken at one’s desk is undeniably inelegant). Though I wondered, as I was even more able to enjoy the oil and seasoning in its warm state, if my colleagues could hear me crunching. If so, they were kind and kept it to themselves.
The spinach pie — which came recommended at the counter and comes with a generous, fresh and tasty Greek side salad for $9.49 — was enjoyable. An individually wrapped handheld — rather than the pan-cut square to which I’m accustomed — it, too, was audibly crunchy with flaky layers that cracked into buttery sheets of phyllo confetti. Eat this over a plate if you hold it.
Now that I think of it, I suppose I could have used a knife and fork.
For all my mannerly intent, undeniable inelegance always seems to find me.