Fifty-five years.
In restaurant years, that's somewhere between "practically immortal" and "they're clearly doing something right."
While trendy restaurants spend thousands trying to convince people they're worth visiting, Spiro's has quietly spent more than half a century earning that reputation one plate at a time.
This year they're celebrating 55 years in the Lloydminster area, and instead of simply hanging a banner on the wall and calling it a day, they've spent July celebrating the community that's supported them all these years.
Every Thursday evening, the patio has come alive with local musicians while guests enjoy dinner, cocktails, and conversation. The night I visited, Jordyn Pollard from nearby Hillmond, Saskatchewan, was providing the soundtrack. It's a simple idea: support local artists, support local business, and give people another reason to spend a Thursday night together.
That community spirit isn't anything new for Spiro's.
For three decades, Spiro and Tina personally hosted an annual Thanksgiving dinner for anyone who found themselves alone over the holiday. Long after it became a tradition, the event was eventually taken over by a local charity, allowing it to continue serving the community they had cared about for so many years.
It's hard not to respect that.
There's always a bit of a dilemma when I come to Spiro's.
Like most people, once I find something I love on a menu, I become fiercely loyal to it. Maria's Special has never let me down, the pizza is worth every bit of the praise it gets, and if I could convince them to serve lemon rice soup by the bucket, I'd probably make some questionable financial decisions.
But that's the problem with reviewing restaurants.
If I keep ordering my favourites, I'm reviewing my habits instead of the menu.
So, in the interest of giving Spiro's the fairest review I could, I ignored every instinct telling me to order my usual comfort foods and took a leap of faith.
Naturally, that leap started with the cocktail menu.
The Zoe drinks like an ordinary ginger beer.
That's what makes it dangerous.
It goes down so effortlessly that you start wondering if they forgot the alcohol altogether. Then, somewhere around cocktail number two, your legs quietly resign. It's the liquid equivalent of confidently signing up for a marathon because the first kilometre felt easy.
The Kokonas Mojito came with one small caveat.
Give it a stir.
The coconut rum likes to settle near the top, leaving the last few sips tasting more like a traditional mojito than what was advertised. A quick mix brings everything together exactly as intended.
For an appetizer, I ordered the Escargot.
If mushrooms aren't your thing, this probably isn't the dish that's going to change your mind.
If they are, don't overthink it.
The mushrooms were cooked perfectly, the escargot complemented them beautifully, and everything was swimming in enough garlic butter to make worrying about tomorrow's breath feel like tomorrow's problem.
For the main course, I settled on the Veal Parmigiana.
Spiro's certainly doesn't believe in being stingy with the parmigiana, and I'm not about to argue with that philosophy.
The veal was incredibly tender, the sauce was rich without overpowering the dish, and the garlic mashed potatoes were exactly what garlic mashed potatoes should be: rich, creamy, and impossible to stop eating.
The only thing I'd tweak would be the garden vegetables. They were cooked perfectly with just the right amount of bite, but another pinch of seasoning would've helped them keep pace with the rest of the plate.
That's about as critical as I can be.
Restaurants don't survive fifty-five years by accident.
They survive because generations of families keep coming back. They celebrate birthdays and anniversaries there. They bring their kids, and eventually those kids bring theirs. They know the staff, they know the menu, and they know exactly what kind of evening they're going to have before they even walk through the front door.
Spiro's has earned that kind of loyalty.
Great food certainly helps.
So does great hospitality.
But I think there's another reason they've been around for 55 years.
When you spend decades investing in the people around you, whether that's opening your patio to local musicians or making sure strangers don't spend Thanksgiving alone, you're building more than a restaurant.
You're building a community.
After stepping outside my comfort zone for one evening, I can happily report that my usual favourites aren't the only reason to visit.
I'll still order Maria's Special.
I'll still rave about the pizza.
I'll still dream about that lemon rice soup.
But now I've got a few more reasons to keep coming back.
After 55 years, Spiro's isn't relying on nostalgia.
They're still giving Lloydminster new reasons to walk through the door.