Two years ago, my doctor told me that I was at heightened risk for diabetes. My A1C, a measure of my blood sugar, was abnormally high. I was stunned.

So I got to work. While not the only reason I chose to pick up a minor in Nutritional Sciences, it was certainly a significant one. I questioned, and I learned, and I read up using what I learned—like diving into how Asians sit at a higher risk for diabetes at lower BMIs than one might think. Friends going for Slurpees after balling? Nah, maybe next time, guys.

As a result of changes in my diet, I was constantly on the hunt for food that had plenty of veggies, little carbs, but also a tasty x-factor to keep me interested.  One small stop along that quest was this joint: Mr. Gyros.

I’d been eating lamb & beef gyros often enough since I moved to UW, because what else are you eating in college at 1:37 a.m.? Celery sticks? Still, I figured that if I was ever going to like salads, it’d start with the ones offered here, with strips of deliciously roasted beef and lamb on top. So I asked my good man at the register for a “Mr. Gyros Salad,” and the rest is history.

Why is gyro meat so darn good? Well, let’s help dispel this notion of a “mystery meat.” The blend of lamb and beef comes in at about 85% beef and 15% lamb, which lays the foundation with a unique flavor and texture. The smorgasbord of spices is crucial as well, often a heaping mix of paprika, oregano, garlic powder, cumin, and much more. And finally, the unsung hero: the iconic rotating spit. It allows for something I’m sure we’ve all heard of—the Maillard reactions. Or, simply put, browning and searing meat.

According to food science writer Harold McGee, the magic number is 230. When the surface of any protein exceeds 230°F, it kicks off a series of complicated reactions. In fact, the process is so complex that today, we still don’t have a full grasp on everything that happens!

This is why: amino acids and sugars come together and make hundreds of byproducts. Then, those byproducts make their own byproducts. And so on, and so on. We’re talking hundreds and hundreds of unique flavor compounds generated from this massive chain of reactions. Like…when you kicked that first domino as a kid, and in just seconds, they all went flying. Magnificent. You get the idea.

Pretty soon, zooming out, we end up with a perfect brown crust on, say, a slice of gyro meat. It’s that browning that slams our tongue with an incredibly complex flavor, compared to if we’d boiled that slice in a pot of hot water. (Please no.)

This is also why you may have heard that “crowding the pan” is bad when frying or sautéing: the surface of our food has trouble exceeding our magic number of 230°F if it’s constantly exposed to moisture. Water prevents browning. This is because water boils at 212°F, and that’s as hot as water will get before evaporating. 212°F < 230°F, always.

In addition, turning water into steam so that it can actually leave (changing phases) sucks up a whole lot of energy—energy that should be going into making an awesome sear instead. So don’t ask too much of your pan. Dry is key to browning. Give your protein space in your pan, and you’ll both give the steam space to leave, and allow your pan a manageable amount of moisture to kick out of there.

For Mr. Gyros, that spiced and savory meat is only the beginning. Think crunchy cucumbers, juicy tomatoes, leafy lettuce, and a kick of chopped onion. Top it with plenty of quality olive oil, some feta cheese, and a generous dollop of creamy Tzatziki, and you’ve got yourself one of the most multidimensional, surprisingly filling salads you’ll enjoy anywhere.

In less than a year, the effects of my efforts were substantial: My A1C fell soundly back within a safe range! I never did find out exactly what caused the spike. However, Mr. Gyros showed me that salads could be much more complex than your everyday Chicken Caesar. Along with Greek salads, Thai salads and Vietnamese salads were the name of my game that year, with their intricate focus on balancing spicy, sweet, sour, and savory all in one. The world of leafy greens gets a bad rap for being boring and bland, but maybe, just maybe, that’s because we learned all we know about them from our elementary school salad bars.