POLYKARPOS // IOANNINA

RESTAURANT // POLYKARPOS

LOCATION // IOANNINA, GREECE

MEAL // DINNER, 9.30PM

THE LOW-DOWN

It’s actually summer here in Greece, and yes I’m throwing shade at you, London.

You didn’t think I’d cover cheap eats, and I’m no Guy Fieri, but here we are with my own version of Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives. I present to you my €4.50 dinner.

First, some background. Ioannina is a city in the Epirus region, the most populous in Epirus, and the tenth largest municipality in Greece. Filled with both the young and the old (where do I fit in that?), the city is dotted with charming bars, cafes, and restaurants at every turn, especially by the lake. One of those is Polykarpos, an institution in Ioannina, known and adored by all (especially those with a beverage-induced craving at 4am).

We walk in, and Polykarpos, the man himself, is manning the grill. It’s by no means a glamorous spot, just a narrow walk-in with enough room for the grill, the counter, and a queue for ordering. We fortunately beat the dinner rush, and our dikavalos are ready within a minute of ordering.

The dikavalo kotopoulo

This dikavalo kotopoulo, or chicken pita, is different than most pita sandwiches you’ve probably had. First, the bread is quite thin, lending to an easier bite and more of a spotlight on the contents. Second, there’s honey mustard, which is not the usual sauce of choice in a Greek pita sandwich. I’ll come back to this shortly. The contents are as follows: 2 skewers’ worth of chicken (or souvlaki, to be accurate), tomatoes, thinly sliced potato rounds (fried, I believe), parmesan, and the star, as mentioned - honey mustard. The ‘complete’ order, as they call it, also includes raw, red onion. I tend to believe the taste of red onion overpowers other flavors and interferes with the other factors at play, here especially, so I ordered without them.

You know when you have an overly-grilled pita bread that kind of jabs in your mouth when you chew? Not this one. It’s grilled, but not hard, and the perfect thickness.

The touch of finely grated parmesan seems minute, but the touch of saltiness makes a difference as you catch it with the soft potatoes.

The chicken is tender with a slight char from the grill, and the chunks are small enough to fit into one bite, should you accidently over-estimate your bite (thanks to the traditional souvlaki skewer size).

As I said, the honey mustard makes all the difference, keeping you coming back for bite after bite. Sauces often make a sandwich soggy and difficult to consume with the drip, but thanks to just the right sauce-to-fillings ratio, plus the balanced consistency of not too liquid nor too creamy, this was not an issue. This likely also had to do with the fact that I was eating the sandwich right as it was ready. To be clear, the honey mustard sauce is what you come to experience at Polykarpos. It’s not too acidic or spicy from the mustard, nor too sweet from the honey. It ties everything together, especially complementing the char on the souvlaki.

WHAT I WORE

Honestly? My running gear (it was the run’s end goal). It’s that casual anyway.

WOULD I GO BACK

It’s obvious to me to go back. Polykarpos does something special here, and to those lucky enough with year-round access - I’m jealous.