Honestly, I don’t know what possessed me to go to the Plaka for dinner, beyond blind (some might say stupid) hope that this one restaurant with easy Greek name that rolls off the tongue and the wherewithal to actually send a card announcing its opening to members of the Greek press, might just buck the trend. It might just be the place for Greeks to go in the Plaka, away from tourists, away from croaking accordion players and rheumatoidal bouzouki players, a place that might actually make me feel like a Greek in the heart of Greekness.
It wasn’t quite so.
We had to climb and climb and climb, passed several levels of tables, to get to our ultimate destination, the rooftop. On the way up, I peeked into the dining room, with its bright murals faintly reminiscent of something idyllically ancient: brightly painted portraits and bucolic scenes, columns, etc. All the accoutrements of Plaka kitch, updated to circa 2007. The rooftop was lovely, though, with a fairly panoramic view of our chaotic city, and simply appointed, in contrast to the main dining room two levels below.
The place wasn’t too busy, but whoever was there, from what I could gather at least, was not Greek but a tourist.
Unlike the clientele, the menu here is extremely Greek, classic in its selection of tzatziki, melitzanosalata, Horiatiki, vrasti salata, fish of the day, grilled meats, and a few casseroles. There isn’t an ounce of imagination in any of the menu offerings, but there are a few funny translations. Rabbit Stifado, for example, is translated as “bunny” stew. Bugs or a Playboy version, I wondered….
We sampled a few of the classics, among them the simple beet salad, which was thoroughly bland. The beets themselves seem to lack their own basic character—not a hint of the earthy sweetness that makes a beet a beet. These were an insipid bunch of chunks on a plate, totally unseasoned before they left the kitchen. The boiled zucchini and horta had a little more going for it, in terms of texture and taste. The Cretan onion pies were the tastiest thing we had all night, simple, fried pastries filled with onions and fennel. Someone might actually back there making them, or, at the least, they’ve found a good source for the artisinal, frozen kind. I wanted to try the tyrokafteri to see if it was homemade, and it did seem to be mainly because it was smoother and creamier than most of the commercially prepared stuff.
The classic taverna dish of cheese-stuffed grilled squid was OK; the squid was a little tough and the cheese filling a little too dense, with barely a hint of any other layers of flavors. Even in this simple, classic dish, when it’s done well, it can be great. Here it was passable. I felt the same thing about the beef stewed with eggplant, a classic prepared competently but still lacking character. The sauce had no flavor nuances, none of the underlying sweetness from spices like cinnamon and allspice, to make it interesting. The eggplant was sufficiently tender and still kept its shape, but the meat was a little stringy.
We skipped the syrupy desserts.
Surely Elaia isn’t the worst example of Plaka fare, and I suppose in this day and age of something that’s not the worst could also be considered pretty good. Not by this critic! Elaia can—and should—be so much more. Instead it has succumbed to being one more soulless place in the Disneyland version of Greece: the Plaka.
Cuisine: Traditional Greek
Athens Area: Plaka
Decor: Plaka kitsch
Service Competent
Wine List: Decent
Prices 35-45 Euro per person
Address: Erehtheos 16 & Erotokritou Str., Plaka, Athens
Tel. 2103249512
Category: Greek/Tourist Schlock/Plaka
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