It's easy to spot a professional gyros eater. First off, the pro pronounces the word "year-o," as opposed to "gy-ro," as in jive. And secondly, the pro can eat one without getting tzatzaki, a yogurt-based dressing that squirts out of pita like a Saudi oil well squirts crude, splattering all over that new Banana Republic unisex jacket.
Our westside pros are cheering now that Paymon Rauf has opened his newest outpost, a combination restaurant and hookah lounge, akin to the one he owns on Maryland Parkway. That restaurant is joined at the hip with a wonderful Middle Eastern market, and the luxury of close proximity to UNLV, providing him with a steady customer base.
Rauf's new Sahara location has no attached market, nor a nearby student population. Despite that, business here is lively to the point that on two separate occasions, the parking lot was overflowing and I had to wait for a space.
In many ways, this is a much prettier restaurant than the original. The eclectic décor is an amalgamation of multicolored, vinyl-cushioned chairs; blue tabletops; a pair of giant trees framing the long, narrow dining room (ash, perhaps?); ornate glass chandeliers giving the room a distinctly Levantine cast; and soft, café au lait-tinted walls, embossed with hokey, '60s-type pearls of wisdom.
The décor makes sense, because the menu is an amalgam as well, even if a few dishes here, such as fesenjon (which I shall describe later on), the resolutely Persian-style kabobs and a great special, shiren polo, (or Mamma's Special on a menu insert) aren't really Mediterranean at all.
Shiren polo is a dish close to the Rauf's Persian roots, a wonderful dish consisting of a mountain of fragrant basmati rice, shredded chicken, candied carrots, dried cherries, pulverized pistachios and slivered, sugared almonds.
The idea is to mix the whole shebang together and enjoy; a seductive, unusual offering that is at far more than the sum of its parts. For me, what makes it really special is the basmati, perhaps the world's finest rice. All the meaty kabobs, such as chicken, steak, koobideh (spiced ground beef) and the dinner menu's top-notch lamb kabob, come with this rice, in fact. It's a fine-textured, perfume-scented grain with a delicacy that puts ordinary rice to shame, and the kabobs are even tastier when sprinkled with the Persian condiment somagh, made from dried sumac berries and found in shakers on every table.
But back to gyros. Come for lunch and practically everyone in the restaurant will be eating one, in a paper wrap printed with the restaurant's name and phone number. Think of this sandwich as the Greek version of a hamburger wrapped in wax paper. For $1.75 extra, you get a pile of highly seasoned Athens fries, making it the ethnic equivalent of a highly prized American student meal.
I actually prefer what the menu refers to as shawarma in pita, not technically shawarma but more gyros meat, doused with the sesame sauce known as tahina instead of the more Greek yogurt sauce. (Shawarma is sliced, rather than ground, meat.) I always ask for my meat well done, because I like the spicy, razor thin slices to acquire a bacon-like crispness.
As to the rest of the menu, it's basically Lebanese and Greek, with Persian touches. I promised to describe fesenjon and here it is. Originally from the Caspian Sea, the dish is often made with duck, but in America, chicken gets the call. The meat simmers slowly in an impossibly rich, quicksand-thick, pomegranate-walnut sauce, a liquid that colors rice a bright vermilion. A little dab'll do ya.
Then there are the delicious Lebanese dips, hummus, baba ghannouj and the yogurt dip borani, also known as lebni. All of these are sensational with the house pita bread or smeared on any of the kabobs. There is also falafel, a snack popular in Israel and throughout the Arab world: crunchy, spicy, dense Frisbees fashioned from garbanzo bean flour. Think Boca burgers, kicked up a notch.
The menu is essentially the same in the evening, but the prices tend to be $2 higher per entrée, and there are a few additions, such as Greek casseroles like moussaka and pastitsio, broiled salmon and that choice lamb kabob.
The menu also has a terrific tea list, featuring a variety of teas from around the world: estate Darjeeling, Gunpowder green tea and premium leaves from countries like Sri Lanka and Nepal. For dessert, there is a workmanlike baklava, and cream topped, Greek-style rice pudding, with too much cinnamon for me.
After dinner, you can repair to the hookah lounge where, in a beautiful room lined with Byzantine cushions and artifacts from the Arab world, you can smoke yourself into oblivion with a number of flavored tobaccos. For any other types of oblivion, seek them elsewhere, please.