Brown Betty

4/12/2008


Brown Betty
Category: Euro-Greek pub/Central Athens
Atmosphere: dark wood, large bar, a place made for the aimlessly leisurely
Service: enthusiastic
Menu: Potpourri of tabac best sellers, Greek food, Bruschetta, sandwiches and more for light dining any time of the day or night
Wine List: Pretty extensive
Prices: Anywhere from 10 to 35 euros per person
Address: 33 Dimitriou Soutsou str., Ambelokipi, Tel. 2106465180

Quick bites:

This odd place seems out of the loop. It’s more a bar than a restaurant and yet it offers a pretty full menu. If you just happen to be in the neighbourhood near the American Embassy or Plateia Mavili the simple lunch fare is pretty good. Otherwise, don’t waster a night here.

Brown Betty is a fruit, spice, and bread dessert that dates to Colonial America; it’s also the unlikely name for a new restaurant-bar concept that sits just off Plateia Mavili on Soutsou Street , up the street from the gleaming offices of the Greek National Tourist Organization. There is nothing remotely American about the place, so I suppose its name comes from the simple existence of a brown-betty like dessert (the apple crumble) on the menu.

Brown Betty is a curiosity as far as Athens eateries go. It’s very cozy and has a decidedly Euro-slacker air to it; it’s a kind of French tabac, replete with croques monsieur and madame on the menu, and plenty of dark wood that helps create the sense of aimless leisure that permeates the atmosphere. We were there at night, midweek, not a lively hour on the dark side of Soutsou and the place was relatively quiet. A few diners sat at a handful of tables on the second floor. A mother-daughter date enjoyed wine and dinner at the table next to us. I assume that when the GNTO bustles with the shuffling throngs of civil servants escaping office boredom, that Brown Betty bustles, too. A spacious, high bar with high stools makes one want to stop for an organic beer (the only kind on the menu) any time of the day. The open kitchen is always a welcome sight.

The menu is unusual in its variety and emphasis on organic or regional Greek ingredients but there is a certain excitement over the concept on the part of the waiter (at least ours) that doesn’t always translate to excitement in the food. For one, the few things we tried were all very under-seasoned (EF analata) because, as the chef explained for a whole 10 minutes after I happened to mention that I didn’t like the mashed potatoes, “Salt is prohibited.” By whom? I wondered. In my book, the art of seasoning properly is much more difficult than towing a no-salt dogma.

As for those mashed potatoes, which were seasoned with chives (according to the chef) but tasted like ginger (which the waiter confirmed they indeed contained), they lacked not only in salt but in creamy soul-warming mashed potato texture. They also arrived cold. “Ah, it’s the organic potatoes. You’re not used to them,” the chef pointed out, not knowing that my kids eat mommy’s organic version of Robuchon’s pureed potatoes about once a week.

I hate when cooks make stupid excuses for mediocre recipes and maybe that’s harsh for a place that aims to be as much bar as eatery but given the care taken to procure organic ingredients and the space devoted to pointing that out on the menu, I thought the food could be a lot better here.

Sandwiches hot and cold, eggs and omelets, salads and breakfast take up a pretty large part of the menu. We tried the simple green salad, which was also lacking in salt. Its promised pieces of grapefruit were small mushy bits of the fruit; its marinated cucumbers were thinly sliced pickles as far as I could tell. We were warned off the organic leek pie because it’s a dish delivered for morning consumption and so not so fresh by 10.30 p.m. when we sat down. In its place, we tried two bruschetta: one with a spread of hummus and Mytillene sardines, which was pretty good bar food, and the other with melted aged Naxos graviera, which lost all reason for existence by the time it came out: cold and covered in dried out grilled mushrooms. Too bad. The salmon with sezchuan pepper was cooked to just the right texture but it also needed salt.

For what it’s worth, I really like the idea of this place. I just think owner and cook need to take a step back and, well, add a little seasoning to what seems like a great cupboard full of raw ingredients. The atmosphere doesn’t inspire long, drawn out Mediterranean meals, but a great sandwich, a great croquet monsieur and a cold beer are always welcome.