The Story
Thankful for "The Castle"
Thanksgiving, where the fastly fasts flee and we allow the pounds to gain after resisting for so long, comes this Thursday to us all. If you’re among the fortunate who fly to their residence, those of us not bound to the dreary suburbanite dream of Northern Virginia (affectionately named NoVA, as I’m sure you’ve heard), this piece is for you.
Or rather review. I have many times dreamed of dining at airport restaurants, the ones that light and litter the stretch of asphalt for 24 hours a day, the ones that Casablanca promised were inhabited by venomous blondes and debonair dark figures. And maybe I found this promise, fulfilled in the fine establishment that acts as the only anachronism in our anachronistic town that retroactively displaces the colonials.
I am, of course, referring to “The Castle,” an establishment that has offered Newport News fine Greek and Italian cuisine within its warm granite façade (not cobblestone) since 2002.
With the TSA simply non-existent at the Newport News Airport, I once was a proponent of arriving a mere half-hour before a departure. Now, after feasting the feast of many feasts at “The Castle”, I will have to extend my arrival to NWA as I depart on the fuselage of cheaply-paid well-portioned quasi-Medieval Greek and Italian meals.
Standing two stories high, lit by the passing planes of Delta and Midwest connections, “The Castle” is a refurbished fast food restaurant that has reversed the flux of time to show quality and quantity is as harmonious a pair as Phalanxes and Gyros.
Don’t let the price tag fool you; service is simply not lost. As Jill approached my quarry of customers/colleagues/companions, I was lost in her smile. Was it these same ivory teeth that Sir Lancelot gazed upon in the hospitable halls of Camelot? Certainly, there was no quest for grail to be had; the meal itself satiated our undying souls.
The first question is Greek or Italian? “Or Seafood or Chicken,” as our server would add. She prefers the Alfredo dishes --- the sauce is perfect; “that’s what I’m having tonight”
Portions filled the eye and overfilled the stomach. For myself, as an avid vegetable lover and tester of my lactose intolerance, I chose the Eggplant Parmesan. Normally, from the Little Italy’s far and wide, I’ve only ever had a slice of an eggplant with my Parmigiano-Reggiano, but at “The Castle” my stomach enjoyed the reunion of a sliced eggplant as it reformed to its perfect purple personage sealed by my bile and lack of lactase.
Other entrees provided were Chicken Alfredo, Baked Penne Pasta, Chicken Parmesan and a traditional favorite, the Greek Gyro (your-oh). As an appetizer, whiskey was poured over a slab of cheese, fire was added to the traditional Greek ceremony and “OPA!” echoed the watch towers of number 12471 Jefferson Avenue.
So if you find yourself reading this on route, or perhaps you are at home already missing the thrills of Williamsburg, wherever you are, remember that an electric candle glows for you outside the hustle and bustle of colonial life in the King Arthur’s Court where the Greek and Ranch dressing are like your memories --- home made.
Daniel Wolfe is a staff columnist for The DSJ. His views do not necessarily represent those of the entire staff.