Identity Crisis of a Pita

As with any weekend in New York comes the possibility of new discoveries, old friends and just maybe something delicious squeezed in between. I began my weekend on Thursday (doesn't everybody?) - a night out with one of my best girls and her new "friend," who I am tickled to say is no longer in quotes and has, in fact, earned the oh-so-important prefix of "boy."

The impromptu social outing brought us to the newest outpost of Zaytoons on Vanderbilt Ave in Prospect Heights - the Middle Eastern spot that's earned a fairly loyal following amongst the healthy Brooklyn type. A type I would never claim to be my own, but never one to close the book on a potential culinary escape I thought I'd give it a second try. The boy ordered a schwarma (beef / lamb) and a garlic "bread." My friend chose a lamb pitza and I, as so often happens, made a clutch decision opting for the shrimp pitza in a moment of panic and indecision. While I can say that no one left hungry, I would be remiss if I didn't also point out that no one left satisfied. The schwarma was less than up-to-par, neither visually or edibly stimulating. The garlic bread was no more than a glorified pita with chopped garlic sprinkled haphazardly on top - garlic that could have benefited from a quick sautee in a bit of olive oil, or roasted beforehand to bring out the sweetness hiding within the pungent cloves. So far, not impressed. Which brings me to this idea of a pitza - not quite a pita, not quite a pizza. As far as I'm concerned, there are enough things in this world existing in a literal or metaphorical gray area - food should not be one of them. While some blending of flavors and techniques can potentially create new and wonderful culinary delights, it is my belief that identity crises should be left to us humans. A pita topped with meats and vegetables flavored with the accents of a Middle Eastern kitchen, slathered with tomato sauce and mozzarella does not a pizza make. And though I can appreciate the attempt at coining a new culinary creation, a pitza in my opinion is a failed concoction that should be laid to rest.

Overall, a fine atmosphere and an acceptable neighborhood joint that works well enough for an afternoon mint tea and maybe some hummus and plain pita, but for a more satisfying dining experience I would suggest heading to the nearest hole-in-the wall kebab joint for an authentic meal suitably lacking in modern-day mashups.