Chicken Gyros Recipe with Tomato Salad and Feta | Foodal (2024)

I’ve always been drawn to feta.

It’s mesmerizing to me how one beautifully briny ingredient can have such an impact on the overall flavor profile of a dish. Long before I developed this infatuation for feta (or in-feta-uation, if you will), I had a love for what I simply labeled “Greek food.”

It was a while before I came to realize that the term “Greek” was actually a very broad description of the cuisine I so adored. I became familiar with the zesty fare in my youthful years when my mom discovered a local cafe specializing in sumptuous Mediterranean flavors.

One evening a week, like clockwork, she would bring home a container of the world’s smoothest, most inexplicably velvety hummus from Neomonde, the small cafe in my Carolina hometown that served Lebanese-inspired fare.

Before dinner, my mom, dad, sister, and I would congregate around it in the kitchen, admiring its glistening olive oil crest, and dunking all kinds of crackers within its lemony pool of love. Occasionally she would also bring home herby tabbouleh dotted with cucumbers and diced tomatoes, tangy tzatziki, and impeccable, imported feta.

As I eventually made my way out of my parents’ home at the ripe age of 22, I had to learn to fend for myself when my feta cravings hit. I moved to our city’s downtown area, which also happened to house Neomonde’s original location.

The first time I wandered into the international specialty foods shop, I was enthralled by the radiant dishes that lined the display cases. One in particular caught my eye: a parchment-paper-wrapped puffy pita bread swaddling smoky chunks of chicken, herb salad, and tzatziki.

I added feta.

Every mouthful of this vibrant handheld was savory, juicy, salty, and tangy.

When I put together the recipe for this gyro, my head spun with excitement as I believed I had created the perfect adaptation that included everything I cherished about this cuisine.

A must-have was the tomato-cucumber mixture, often referred to as Israeli salad. The Indian version of this accompaniment (known as kachumber) is comparable, though it often includes chili peppers, giving the chopped condiment a fiery zing.

Some like it hot!

As I munched my way through the messy flatbread and a citrusy stream of olive oil slid through my fingertips and down to my elbows, I wondered to myself, “Wait, what did I actually just make?”

I realized that of all the times I had frequented Mediterranean eateries, Nemonde included, I had ordered both gyros and souvlaki as if they were interchangeable dishes. I decided to dig a little deeper.

At this point, I was already sporting tzatziki smears from cheek to cheek, so it’s not like I was going anywhere anyway.

Here’s the deal:

The term “gyro” refers to meat that spins endlessly on a “gyroscope,” while a souvlaki is the diminutive of “souvla,” a smaller spit/rotisserie.

So, gyro – a borrowed term from the Turkish word döner that means “to turn” – denotes circling meat on a large vertical rotisserie, whereas souvlaki is essentially skewered cubes of meat that are grilled.

If you’ve spotted the terms döner kebab, gyro, and souvlaki being used synonymously on American menus, don’t get tripped up. They’re likely all delicious meat-stuffed pitas. But if you travel to Greece, you might want to get your terms straight.

If you want to create something similar to all of the above in your very own home that you can customize to your delight, I suggest giving my recipe for chicken gyros a go. You don’t even need a fancy spit like a street vendor might have. Just some skewers, and a hefty amount of patience while your meat marinates.

The longer the better. Trust me on this.

Oftentimes, when I’ve ordered gyros from a restaurant or even from a street cart in a big city, there’s a touch of tartness and crunch missing and I have to request feta. At home, I can pile on double cheese, load up every bite with pickled beets and turnips, and even treat myself to an extra ramekin of tzatziki.

Souvlaki it to me, baby. One bite of these gyros and you’ll be a doner.

Okay, I even impressed myself with that one.

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Cooking By the Numbers…

Step 1 – Slice the Chicken, Chop the Herbs, and Prepare the Marinade

Trim off any excess fat, and slice the chicken thighs into thin, short strips.

Grate or mince the garlic, and chop the fresh herbs.

In a large mixing bowl, whisk together 2 tablespoons of the lemon juice, the white wine, 6 tablespoons of the olive oil, the garlic, oregano, thyme, 2 tablespoons of the parsley, and 1 teaspoon each salt and pepper.

Add the chicken strips and toss to coat. Marinate for at least 1 hour or at best, overnight.

Step 2 – Soak the Skewers and Make the Tomato-Herb-Cucumber Salad

Soak the skewers in water for 20 minutes. Meanwhile, make the tomato-herb-cucumber salad.

Dice the tomatoes and cucumbers into small 1/4-inch cubes, and chop the scallions and mint.

In a small bowl, stir together the remaining parsley, lemon juice, and olive oil with the cucumber, tomato, scallions, and mint.

Craving fresh basil during the summer months? Want a zing of vinegar? Our Simple Summer Cucumber and Tomato Salad will also work perfectly! Just chop up the veggies more finely, instead of leaving them in larger chunks.

Season with salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste.

Evenly thread the chicken onto the skewers lengthwise, so the meat isn’t hanging off.

Step 3 – Grill the Chicken and Toast the Pitas

Preheat a grill or grill pan to medium-high.

Grill the chicken until lightly charred, about 6-8 minutes per side.

When the chicken has cooled slightly, slide it off the skewers.

Lightly toast the pitas, about 1 minute per side to heat them through and provide a bit of charred flavor.

Step 4 – Assemble

Spread each pita with a generous layer of tzatziki and then top with even portions of chicken, feta, cucumber-tomato salad, and pickled beets and turnips, or with whatever proportions suit your tastes. Serve immediately.