If you enjoy the bars of Mount Vernon (who doesn't?) and staying until close at the Owl Bar, Grand Central or Brewer's Art (again, who doesn't?) you probably already know of Never On Sunday. Never is Greek take-out that has the usual compliment of subs, pizza, sandwiches, soups, wraps and breakfast mixed in. They are also open till 3 a.m. on Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays. Thus, they attract all the insominacs who have been kicked out of One World.
We are a happy crowd, with our greasy burgers, melting slices of pizza and forum for elevated consideration of food. Once, I conversed with a fellow Philadelphian about the fate of the Philadelphia cheesesteak in various U.S. cities while waiting in line for what we considered field research.
It seems a limiting factor that the restaurants one could consider for late-night eats are mainly united by geography rather than level of cuisine, but there is a logical explanation for this. A restaurant is judged by the flavor of its food, but it is also judged on delivery. After all, once prepared in a kitchen, food does not simply transmigrate to the consumer. There is the matter of accessibility -- getting the food to the diner.
Many restaurants provide food that is perfect for the 2 a.m. I'm-still-awake-and-need-a-sandwich scenario, but so few are actually open when these cravings call. Late-night nutrition is a problem when Papa John's is not an option.
Never On Sunday is accessible when the late night hunger pains kick in (of course, not on Sundays, in case you haven't guessed) and has all the usual short-order delights, as well as a surprising amount of Greek specialties. Usually the word specialties is considered an oxymoron in an atmosphere known for its fried eggs and cheeseburgers. But, as I've noted before, the inexplicable souvlaki clashes with the rest of the menu quite pleasantly and is a welcome change of pace. Never has a healthy supply not just of gyros, souvlaki and spankopita, but also lamb chops, tramaosalata, saganaki, melizanosalata and kafteri.
The Greek section of the menu is all-encompassing and delicious. Additionally, it's perfect for people like me. I wind up in Never with a frequency I don't care to admit publically, and often while waiting in line I wonder if I really want a cheesesteak, an Italian cold cut sub, a gyro or pizza. I often decide at the last minute upon something Greek and wind up trying something new at about 2:10 in the morning.
On, at long last, the quality of the food: The cheesesteak with everything is nothing special, but it is effective. The cold cut sub -- well, it contains bologna -- enough said. The baklava is, when fresh, just plain awesome. The souvlaki is charred and meaty and comes with tzatziki -- a cucumber and garlic yogurt sauce. Yum. Never is a variation on the greasy spoon theme. It pays the rent out of its Fryolator and off its griddle. There are a few standard menu items for this place -- the burger, the pancake and the chicken tender.
Most important, though, is the french fry. Such tremendous volumes of fries come through this place that not only must they please the customer but also follow a well-established french frying procedure. French fries are at the core of Never's business.
They have pepper sprinkled on them as well as salt, which is a plus. I feel that the salt is simply never enough. Salt should be applied to deep-fried food the instant it comes out of the fryer so that it does not fall off. The fries come in little white paper bags, which I enjoy, and on which you can clearly see the dark spots forming which, according to clever donut marketers, are not signs of greasiness but rather freshness. Well, I'm sold.
The heart of the French fry problem is the interior texture. The fries are crispy, no skin, uniform size, mostly, but the interior is a bit too dry. As a French fry cooks, its water converts to a gas within the fry. The gas then makes a bee-line out of the potato, and bubbles up out of the oil. This constant outward pressure from steam is what keeps a fry from getting soggy with oil, and when the bubbling slows on the surface of the oil, the fry is done.
If you leave a fry in for too long (for instance until the bubbling is completely stopped) the potato will be dry and requires ketchup -- which can repair any infraction. Also, the potatoes used are occasionally too mealy, which is not necessarily a bad thing in potatoes. There is a balance between waxy, for wet cooking methods, and mealy, for dry cooking methods -- like deep frying or baking.
Their potatoes, though, are undeniably too mealy in texture, and they just make the dry potato taste dryer. At the end of the day, whether they've got good fries or great fries, you've got to love a place that will give you a grape-leaves-and-caviar spread at three in the morning.
