Athens’s rich culinary world might feel intimidating to tackle – especially for those who find themselves with just a day or two in Greece’s capital city as a jumping-off point for their island holiday. We’re firm believers in Athens as a destination in its own right, one that merits a long stay, not a stopover – especially when we consider the vast variety of food it has to offer. Whether you have six days or six hours to spend in the city, we’ve narrowed down what we believe to be some of the best restaurants in Athens, a beyond the ordinary collection of our favorite tavernas, drink spots, and dessert joints across town. Our local team has been writing about Athens food for almost a decade, and considers the following some of the city’s essential bites.

Thick and creamy yogurt topped with honey and walnuts, doughnut holes doused in honey (loukoumades), and custard-filled phyllo tarts (galaktoboureko) – Greece is home to a wide array of traditional desserts that are irresistible at any time of day or season. Here, we’ve rounded up some of the best spots to find these sweet treats, and have also included a long list of ice cream shops selling our new favorite dessert: gelato. In a place where half the year we live like it’s summer, gelato has become about as popular as it can get in Athens. Opened in July 2014 near Syntagma Square, Le Greche can be blamed for starting the trend of high-quality gelato in Athens. Only the best ingredients make it through the doors of owner Evi’s laboratory.

Orzo, which in Greek is called kritharaki (or manestra), is a rice-shaped pasta that is particularly popular in Greek and Italian kitchens. Interestingly, its name both in Italian and Greek means barley, which would once have been the most commonly used grain in this region of the Mediterranean. Research suggests that this kind of pasta was a substitute for rice, which as late as the 1960s was relatively expensive and hard to get. Orzo is used in traditional recipes, such as giouvetsi, where it is baked with meat, poultry, or seafood. Its use is very versatile; it can be used in soups and salads, while these days in contemporary Greek restaurants, it is often used instead of rice for dishes like kritharoto, which resembles risotto.

Athens’s central and largest food market is located off of National Road, between downtown Athens and Piraeus port, in an industrial area called Rendis. It covers about 60 acres of land and was inaugurated back in 1959 when the city realized that the two existing markets of Piraeus and central Athens were not enough to cover the population’s needs. But there was also a vision of developing Rendis (which back then was an agricultural zone, with lots of farmers working the fields in the area) as the main source of food supply for the city of Athens. Moreover, the location that was picked for the market was convenient, as it is easy to access both from the north and south of Attica. For visitors today, it’s best to drive there or take a taxi, and once you approach the market, you’ll notice the huge trucks heading towards it. Larger shops selling vegetables, fruit, seafood, meat and hundreds of other food products line the entrance and wind around the main market gate.

I moved to London in 2013 after living in Athens for five years with my sister. During that time, the first time we really lived on our own as adults, we developed a few routines and obsessions around food that we still follow to this day. They mostly revolved around our then-neighborhood, Mavili Square, and the center of Athens. In the years that followed, any plans to visit home started with picking which day we would go and get ourselves some souvlaki from Kostas on Mitropoleos street and peinirli from Peinirli Ionias on Panormou street (yes, both of these would happen on the same day!).

It’s fall and the wonderful farmers markets of Athens are filled with the season’s harvest; fresh walnuts and chestnuts, persimmons, pomegranates, quince and, of course, the two queens of the season: pumpkin and butternut squash. I love using butternut squash or pumpkin in a variety of recipes and these traditional fritters are one of my favorite ways to enjoy this nutritious vegetable. This is a recipe that I include in my cookbook Salt of the Earth (Quadrille, 2023), and it is inspired by the traditional version from the region of Messenia in southern Peloponnese. In my take on this dish, I add some chopped green olives as I like variety in textures and flavors and the olives, along with crumbled feta, add a beautiful layer of umami to the fritters.

Kypseli is exploding. It’s the new “cool” neighborhood, thanks to the influx of creatives who own cutting-edge restaurants, clothing brands, and art galleries. It seems as though every few days, a new cafe, bar, record store or plant shop opens, and increasingly, Athenians young and old are looking to snap up any available apartments even as prices start to rise in tandem with the growing “it” factor. The neighborhood, whose name means “beehive” in Greek, was considered the countryside before 1834, but when Athens became the country’s capital, the area slowly urbanized, especially after the neighborhood’s main pedestrian street, Fokionos Negri, was built over a stream. But after World War II, as Greeks flooded into the city, construction in the area ramped up to accommodate interested buyers, and today, Kypseli remains a densely populated area - supposedly one of the most populated in all of Europe.

Pies, sweet and savory, constitute a massive chapter of traditional Greek cuisine, and are also a timeless popular street food all across the nation. Most classic Greek pie shops tend to open early in the morning, as pies are popular for breakfast, and close in the afternoon, usually after they have sold out for the day. That’s why Ta Stachia, a small shop in Exarchia, stands out – an after-hours pie shop, it runs steadily throughout the night, not only feeding all the pub crawlers and nighthawks, but also staying open until about noon for the early birds who walk their dogs or set off for work or school.

Editor’s note: Longtime CB contributor Carolina Doriti was born in Athens, where she grew up in a family with a long culinary tradition. Having studied arts management, she pursued a career as a curator but quickly set her museum work aside to follow her true passion: cooking! Since then, along with her work as CB’s Athens bureau chief, Carolina has been working as a chef, restaurant consultant and food stylist. She is also the Culinary Producer of My Greek Table, a TV series on Greek gastronomy, broadcast on PBS across the US. She has appeared on various cooking shows on Greek and Spanish TV and gives cooking classes and workshops in Athens. Salt of the Earth is her first cookbook.

There’s something about Rakoumel that tastes like home. You might not have a Greek grandma, but dig your fork into any of the dishes here, and for a moment, you can almost imagine you do. The space itself is cozy, with indoor seats that look into a garden and the kitchen to the back. In the front, the sidewalk is speckled with tables that are almost always full, and live music spills into the street when bands set up at one of the tables. It’s a place where raki flows, where an electric energy invites you to come back and feel like you’re part of the family. And Rakoumel is, in fact, a family business. The owner, Yiannis, opened the restaurant 17 years ago with his mother, Argyro.

After World War II, many Greek islanders left their homes and moved to Athens for work and a brighter future. Such was the case with Nikos and Irene Vasilas, who came to Athens from the island of Naxos during their late teenage years; Irene came from Apiranthos village and Nikos from Danakos, both mountain villages. Despite the fact they both came from the same island, the two of them met and got married in Athens, where Irene worked as a housekeeper and Nikos as a builder – or to be more precise, a “digger,” as they used to call those who specialized in digging into the hills for construction. In those post-war years, the neighborhood the couple lived in – which would eventually be named Polygono – was situated on the city’s hilly outskirts. It’s where Nikos built their home, which still stands right here.

Few places remain in Athens with the charm of Leloudas – hidden between factories in Votanikos, the restaurant is located in an area you would not normally visit for any other reason. A few tables are set outside on the narrow sidewalk with a view of the wall of the factory across the street. Inside, old wooden barrels are lined up on the left; on the right is an old mural of a boat at sea, reminding us that this place was initially set up by islanders. Old family photos decorate the walls. They are stunning and feel like they could be part of a museum collection – you can spend hours gazing at them, trying to imagine what life was like in this Athenian neighborhood a century ago. Across from our table – a large round table made of a wooden barrel – is an old hand-painted grey wooden door.

Eating and drinking offers a unique kind of pleasure. Even the smallest bites or sips can have immense powers, creating moments so tasty or satisfying that they can instantly lift our mood, and memories that stay with us for years to come. I call it “a blessing of the senses.” In 2022, we finally saw things falling back into place – maybe not entirely, as there are other issues the world must deal with, but it was a year to make more of these memories, travel, socialize, share again, and simply enjoy. Athens has seen record-high numbers of tourism, and the tourist season has been greatly extended compared to other pre-covid years.

Tanini Agapi Mou may be one of the most ambitious wine bars in Athens’s growing wine scene. But nothing about it feels pretentious.   Plants hang from the ceiling and windows, growing wildly and draping the store in green. The furniture is simple, with tables crafted by independent producers out of highly-sustainable birchwood. The music that fills the room is a mix that spans genres, but is a pleasant background sound to the clinking of glasses. The employees don’t wear uniforms, and when they talk about the menu, their enthusiasm is real. 

When you think about where to send a visitor who is only in Athens for a week – or worse, only a night – it’s difficult to pick the perfect place. It should have wide-ranging hours, not only to keep the options open, but to ensure that those who dine early will be able to make it. It should be centrally located, but not too central, bringing the visitor to an area of the city they might not go to otherwise, but one that doesn’t require a car or an inconvenient bus transfer. The space should be pleasant, with inside and outside tables, and preferably stuffed with locals.

Piraeus – located about 10 kilometers south of downtown Athens – is not just the largest port of Greece, but it is also among the top five most important ports in Europe. Aside from the port, Piraeus covers a large area, some of which is residential and other parts which are more industrial. Though it may seem chaotic at first glance – especially for the many visitors who arrive at the port by ferry from a lovely little island and are shocked to suddenly find themselves in a grey city – the truth is that Piraeus hides a nostalgic flair and charm that is rare to come across in cities these days.

It doesn’t matter how early you show up to the Black Salami Microbakery – there’s always a line. Even right at 9 a.m., when the gates have just been pulled up, tourists and locals alike are waiting for fresh, flaky sandwiches and crusty loaves of bread. Clean, sleek, and cool, with funky marbled counters like a refrigerator mosaic cake, the bakery floods with light on sunny days, illuminating a display case filled with breakfast and lunch options. This is one of a number of new spots that have popped up in the Exarchia neighborhood recently. It’s also part of a transformation the neighborhood has been seeing for some time now – one that has accelerated in the past year, as the city’s newest metro line raises questions about the pros and cons of opening a major transit station in the main square.

Whoever came up with the expression “I don’t give a fig” had obviously never tasted a Greek fig fresh off the tree. How figs, almost certainly dried, came to be considered common and worthless in late medieval England is a mystery, but for the Greeks, they have always been something to treasure and preserve, to be enjoyed in all seasons. As the Bible tells us, figs have been around since the very beginning. After taking bites out of the forbidden fruit, possibly an apple, Adam and Eve suddenly acquired the knowledge that they were naked and covered themselves with the leaves of the fig tree.

Nikea, known before 1940 as Kokkinia (sometimes, you’ll still hear this old name used), is an area that feels almost like a different city, perhaps even a bigger village on an island. When you come out of the metro, the road is dotted with houses instead of higher-rise apartment buildings, and it is mostly quiet, with one very notable exception – guys in cars with high-power engines rev up as they move through this area. These are kagouras, a classification of car-obsessed men, usually, that are found to the outer suburbs of Athens, mostly in the south and west. They’re a clear sign that you’ve truly left the center of the city.

The brown wooden door at Fatsio looks like the entry to an old house, but two small signs give a clue as to what’s inside. The first reads, “Restaurant Fatsio – Manager Georgios Fatsios, Established 1948 Constantinople by Constantinos Fatsios” and below the hours are listed simply: “Daily from 11am until 6pm”. Inside are velvet curtains, old family photos, tables set properly with well-ironed white linens and vintage dinnerware with their logo, Fatsio, printed on each plate. Everything is well-preserved and the place holds an old-school finesse and elegance that is rare to find these days in an affordable lunch spot like this. What can also be found inside is a living link to another time and place, that of Istanbul when the city still had a sizable Greek community.

The typical after-beach taverna in Greece almost always focuses on fish. You want to sit seaside, still a little salty from your swim, watching the last rays of the day’s sunshine drip into the sea. It’s certainly a beautiful image, and very typically Greek. Most of the time, a day trip to the beach does end this way, particularly for Athenians when they’re looking for an escape from the sticky heat of the city center. Trigono, a restaurant in the town of Kalyvia, makes the case for ditching post-dip fish in favor of something else: grilled meat. Tomahawk steaks, lamb ribs, long spicy sausages, even offal cuts that you wouldn’t expect to see outside of major Greek holidays.

Souvlaki might just be Greece’s most popular food. Meat cooked on a stick, wrapped in a pita, dressed with sliced tomato and onion and a dollop of tzatziki, it can be eaten on the run – and it’s often the first thing visitors run to eat as soon as they arrive in this country. It’s an enduring favorite for Greeks, too. Not only is it delicious, but the standard kebab* is also inexpensive, costing around just 3 to 4 euros. The challenge, then, is to find kebabs and gyros that are more imaginative, still juicy and delicious, with a wider range of fillings and toppings, perhaps even vegetarian and vegan options – and which are still moderately priced.

Even though Athens is fairly close to the sea, there are times when we crave a quick island getaway – to taste the best tomato salads of the Cyclades, or one of the many pungent cheeses of Naxos, or real smoked apaki from Crete, but we don’t have the time (or resources) to venture out of the city limits. That’s when we head to To Hohlidaki, an ouzeri experience that feels like a tour of Greece from the comfort of a quaint Athenian neighborhood. We’ve been several times, and each visit gives a new picture of what the country has to offer. This ouzeri is steeped in history, and owner Alexandros Giolma takes every opportunity to mingle the past with the present.

Neo Psychiko, a suburb north of central Athens, is just a 15-minute drive from the city’s busy Syntagma central square yet feels like a world away. Residential and family-oriented, the area is greener and quieter than downtown. At its heart is Plateia Eleftherias (“Freedom Square”), a lively spot with a playground, a kiosk, cafes and restaurants – the usual you’ll find in any decent Athenian plaza. People gather here from early in the morning to late at night. One of those reliably busy all-day gathering spots is O Foititis, an assuming family-run fish restaurant that has been loyally serving locals since 2005, when resident Andreas Sfikas decided to turn his experience running a neighborhood snack bar into something more ambitious.

They grow off of walls and rocks, on rocky hills, near the sea – and even out of chinks in the sidewalk in the center of Athens. Tangy, floral and tart, capers are a wild crop like no other. The Acropolis Hill and most other ancient monuments in central Athens are covered with crawling caper plants throughout summer. On the islands, when driving those curvy, snake-like roads, look out for capers growing under the cliffs and hanging off the side of the road. (These plants often grow huge in size!) Growing untamed all over most of Greece, capers have been making their way onto local tables for centuries. The oldest recorded evidence of capers being used in food is in the Sumerian Epic of Gilgamesh, written c. 2150-1400 BCE.

“Ο Μάρτης πότε γελά και πότε κλαίει” – Μarch sometimes laughs and sometimes cries. So the idiom goes here, as has this year. There are many phrases like this about March in the Greek language. Most of them (like in other cultures) focus on the weather’s instability during the month, and folk tradition believes that the weather gives us a glimpse of what will come in summer. This March was unstable, to say the least: one week it was snowing, then the next the spring sun was shining, and then again back to snowy winter! One of my favorite March traditions is donning a bracelet made with red and white thread. We call it “martis” or “martia” after the month’s name, and we make it on the last day of February and wear it on March 1.

It was a late night in 2009 when Thanos Prunarus finished his shift at Pop, a now-shuttered bar in Athens’ historical center on the tiny Klitiou pedestrian street. He was just a few steps out the door when he spotted a “For Rent” sign taped to the front of an old, empty store. This area of Athens used to be a part of the central market, with pockets of streets specializing in selling specific categories of products like buttons, doorknobs, textiles or wool. Some of the small, ancient-seeming shops selling these goods have managed to stay open despite the big historical center development boom that’s taken place in the last decade.

The last two years have been different in many ways. The pandemic kept restaurants, bars and cafes closed for a long period of time, depriving people of every kind of social activity. Many of us went back to cooking elaborate meals at home, and those of us who didn’t ordered food from the growing list of restaurants that were forced to adapt to a new norm. In fact, for a long period of time, the only vehicles one would see on the streets of Athens – especially at night – were food delivery bikes. Then came May. Places started reopening and the city became full of life again, with lots of new places thrown in the mix (though others were sadly permanently shut).

In ancient times, the murex shell, “porphyra” in Greek, was the source of a beautiful dye so rare and costly to produce that it was only used for royalty – the royal purple. Three years ago, in Athens’ northern suburb of Melissia, a restaurant calling itself Porphyra opened, preparing high-quality seafood with a creative yet accessible flair – no foam or unrecognizable frills. We have yet to taste a dish there that was less than scrumptious and because we have been following the career of owner, Christos Cjoncari, for 20 years now, we wanted to find out how he does it. When we first met, he was in his late teens, a waiter at Kali Parea, a popular fish place in Nea Erythraia.

At first glance, quince can often pass as a larger version of its cousin the pear. But it becomes a bright golden yellow as it matures – hence, it’s longstanding nickname, “the golden apple.” When the quince made its way west from south Asia and the Caucasus into Ancient Greece, the fruit quickly took to the soils of Cydonia (Κυδωνία), a town in northern Crete now known as Chania. This is a region that became famous in the ancient world for the production of the finest quinces. Known as “kodymalon” back then, this hard, yellow fruit is scientifically the Cydonia oblonga, so-named for its new Greek home. The ancient Greeks made good use of them, both in savory and sweet dishes.

For over a century, the dense downtown Exarchia neighborhood, located near the National Technical University and the Law School of Athens, has been deeply connected to the city’s students. Greece’s first student revolution took place there in 1901, resulting in the resignation of both the leading government and the Archbishop of the time. Since then, Exarchia has maintained its revolutionary spirit, displaying its most prominently during the Athens Polytechnic uprising against the military junta that ruled Greece from 1967 to 1974. An everlasting sort of vendetta has remained between the student population of Exarchia and the police – often with dramatic results. Everything is recorded on the walls of the neighborhood, in the form of mostly political graffiti that covers any reachable surface, as well as many seemingly unreachable ones.

Before we start this story, we must first explain the role of the platia in Greece. Platia (πλατεία, pronounced pla-tee-ah and sometimes spelled plateia) means “plaza” in Greek, and can refer to a central town square or a small neighborhood square. All ages meet at the platia: babies in strollers, loud children running and playing like there’s no tomorrow, teenagers having their first smoke or kiss, parents, grandparents, cats, dogs! These squares are to be found all around Greece, even in the most remote village. The role of the plaza in an Athenian neighborhood is even more vital and precious. It preserves the idea of a neighborhood, where everyone gets to know each other and share something in common.

In the summer of 2020, a close friend of Ioli Vrychea and Panos Stogiannis – Athens restaurateurs with plans for a new spot – arrived at the Tainaron Blue Retreat on Greece’s southern Mani peninsula. He sat down at the hotel restaurant and, after quickly falling in love with the meal he’d been served, knew he had found the chef Ioli and Panos were looking for. The friend was so enamored that he convinced the pair to make the drive down south to Mani to introduce them to the person who made the food, Stavriani Zervakakou, a 40-year-old chef with roots in Mani. The bond was instant. She quit her job at the resort and made the move to Athens.

For Marina Liaki, Greece had long been a holiday destination, a place to visit family, soak in the sun and practice her Greek. So it was a shock when Marina, who is half-French, half-Greek and grew up in Paris, volunteered at a temporary refugee camp in the port of Piraeus in late 2015. The Syrian war was at its peak, and large numbers of refugees where coming over by sea every day. “It was so strange seeing the port of Athens, which I had always connected to careless summer holidays, in such a state,” she recalls. It was there, in January 2016, that Marina met Hasan Hmeidan, another volunteer who was originally from Syria but had moved to Greece with his family when he was five years old.

The pandemic hit Athens, in early 2020, at a time of transition for Antonis Liolis. With many years’ experience in the food and beverage industry – after working in popular Athenian bars he went on to own a bar of his own and later two Thai restaurants, one in the Petralona neighborhood and the other on the island of Serifos – he was plotting his next move, and the first lockdown gave him time to think and dream and plan. Feeling nostalgic for his mom’s cooking, Antonis ultimately decided to focus on Greek cuisine. So he went on the hunt for a cook and the right location for his new restaurant, to be named Tzoutzouka (τζουτζούκα, a slang term for a woman who is cute, sweet and loveable).

When Tasos Perdikis and Aris Doukas met a few years back – the two men were working at the same restaurant, although not in the kitchen – they bonded over their love of food. As Tasos tells it, they were both obsessed with souvlaki. Almost immediately they started making future plans to open their own souvlaki shop. They agreed on the fundamentals: simple, old-school souvlaki (which also happens to be our favorite). Made without potatoes and often not even tzatziki, this type of souvlaki spotlights the quality of the pita bread and the meat (typically pork); slices of fresh tomato and onion mixed with chopped parsley round out this divine Greek “sandwich.”

Every decent taverna in Greece has a category on their menu called alifes (αλοιφές), or “spreads” in English. It usually includes popular choices such as tzatziki, skordalia, taramosalata, tyrokafteri, melitzanosalata and more. We treat these dishes either as mezes, to be paired with a variety of other small plates for the main meal, or as dips, which we normally order as an appetizer to start the meal. One of my favorite dips is melitzanosalata, made with roasted eggplant. Believed to originate in Southeast Asia, the eggplant was not used in Greece before Ottoman rule. Its cultivation and use gradually became widespread in the Mediterranean region during the Ottoman period; nowadays, the eggplant is a staple ingredient of Greek cuisine, as evidenced by dishes such as moussaka, papoutsakia and briam.

We spoke to travel writer and cook Yasmin Khan about her latest cookbook, Ripe Figs: Recipes and Stories from Turkey, Greece, and Cyprus (W. W. Norton & Company, May 4, 2021). Author of two cookbooks, The Saffron Tales and Zaitoun, Yasmin turns her focus to the Eastern Mediterranean in Ripe Figs. Using the kitchen table as a lens through which to explore the issues of borders and identity in an interconnected world, she traces various migration stories in her travelogues and recipes. We chatted about the inspiration behind the book, her research process and the importance of documenting both the good and the bad in travel writing.

Greek Easter – this year celebrated on Sunday, May 2 – involves a great deal of baking, from breads to cookies and sweet treats. Many of these traditional recipes are rich with symbolic meaning, usually referencing the regeneration of the earth, the blooming of spring, as well as the honoring of the dead. Some of the themes are clearly rooted in ancient Greek traditions and practices that Christianity later adopted and incorporated into their own celebrations. The egg is the star of most typical Easter recipes. An important ancient symbol of fertility, life and rebirth, eggs are also dyed for the holiday and used in various ways as decoration.

Vegetable main dishes abound in Greek cuisine. Those cooked in olive oil on the stovetop fall under the broader category of ladera (ladi means “olive oil”). They feature seasonal vegetables – usually one main vegetable is the star of each dish, with others adding flavor and color. In the lead-up to Easter – when there is a traditional fasting period of 40 days and lots of new vegetables come into season – ladera dishes enter the spotlight. One of my favorites is fasolakia (the diminutive of fasoli, or “bean”), which features fresh green beans cooked in tomato sauce with a few potatoes, carrots and often zucchini. It’s a dish that’s prepared all over Greece as well as in other Mediterranean countries like Turkey, with small variations.

As winter winds down and spring begins to bloom, Stelios Charkiolakis makes space on the overflowing shelves of his produce shop in downtown Athens for crates of tiny, jewel-like kumquats. Prized by local chefs, these little treasures have come all the way from Corfu. Depending on the weather, the kumquat harvest can begin in late winter and go through early April, as Stelios, one of our favorite green grocers, explains. This year’s harvest was delayed, meaning that Corfu kumquats arrived in his shop, To Bostani, which he runs with his wife, Maria, in the Pagrati neighborhood, around mid-March.

Megali Sarakosti (Μεγάλη Σαρακοστή) is the 40-day period of Lent before Greek Easter, running from “Clean Monday” to Easter Sunday. The fasting rules prohibit consumption of any kind of meat or animal-derived products like dairy and eggs. Fish is not allowed either (with a few exceptions), but bloodless seafood like crustaceans, shellfish, fish roe, calamari and octopus are fair game. What always fascinated me is the fact that in Greek folk tradition, Sarakosti is personified as a woman, named Kyra Sarakosti (Mrs. Sarakosti), often made out of paper (still a common activity in schools – my son Apollo loves drawing her!), but also sometimes out of felt or even a basic dough.

After a year spent refining the art of stocking, and then cooking from, our pantry – what else to do when cooped up at home? – there’s one ingredient that we are eager to evangelize about: tahini, the paste made from grinding roasted sesame seeds. It has a lot going for it: Tahini has a long shelf life, is packed with calcium, iron and Omega 3 and 6 fatty acids, and is a good source of energy. In fact, tahini has seen a comeback lately, as part of the greater attention being given to plant-based diets, together with all the various nut butters and non-dairy milks.

Like Greek Easter, the Monday after Carnival Sunday is a moveable holiday – this year it falls on March 15. Known as Kathara Deftera (Καθαρά Δευτέρα), which translates as “Clean Monday,” this day marks the official commencement of the forty days of fasting before Easter, called Sarakosti (Σαρακοστή) in Greece but more generally known as Lent. (Clean Monday is celebrated exactly 48 days before Easter Sunday.) This Christian celebration is traced back to the Byzantine period. The day was named Kathara Deftera because it was (and still is) a time for cleansing, both of body and soul. It also calls for literal cleaning: For example, on the morning of Clean Monday, people traditionally washed their pots and pans using hot ash water and dyed their pavements white, practices that are less common nowadays.

The commencement of Greek carnival (καρναβάλι), also called Apokries (απόκριες), begins a three-week period during which almost anything goes: feasting, dancing, singing and freedoms of all sorts. Apokries has the same meaning as its Latin counterpart, Carnival, which translates roughly as “farewell to meat” – these are the last days of eating meat before Lent, or Sarakosti, the 40 days of fasting before Easter Sunday, begins. It’s a celebration deeply rooted in ancient Greece, primarily the celebration of Anthesteria, an important festivity that took place during the same season and was particularly big in ancient Athens. Dedicated to the god Dionysus, it was both a joyous occasion of non-stop revelry and also a commemoration of the dead, whom they believed joined the world of the living on these days.

This is the season when almond trees blossom in Greece. They usually begin blooming in January, unless the winter is colder than normal, in which case you start seeing the flowers later, in mid-February. The dreamy white-pink blossoms resemble those of the cherry tree and can be found in abundance in most parts of Greece, especially in the south, including Athens and its wider region of Attica, and on the islands. Believed to originate in Western and Central Asia, almonds were widely produced and used in ancient Greece dating back to at least the 3rd century BC, according to historians. The nut was highly valued for its medicinal properties (Hippocrates made use of it in remedies).

Much as we may love the kitchen, and while the lockdown has given us plenty of time to experiment with old and new recipes, there does come a moment when the cook needs a meal off. Whether it’s because you have neglected to shop, have run out of inspiration or simply hanker for a dish prepared by someone else, being able to order from a place that has something more exciting than pizza, souvlaki, hamburgers and crepes is a very welcome treat. Some tavernas have come to the rescue, offering takeout from their regular menus, but the owners of a landmark Kifissia taverna have taken that option one step further and opened a special shop catering to takeout and deliveries. Cookos – the name is a play on the words “cook” and “kos,” the abbreviation for Kyrios or Mister – opened on December 15, 2020.

When a tourist thinks of Greek cuisine, despite its vast richness, there are usually certain stereotypical dishes that come to mind: Greek salad, souvlaki, creamy tzatziki and, perhaps above all, moussaka, a hearty baked dish with layers of eggplant and meat sauce, all topped with a creamy, cheesy béchamel sauce. To be honest, I often feel ashamed of the moussaka that most tourist restaurants around Greece serve to visitors. It’s heavy, oily and usually nothing like the real deal. I hardly ever order moussaka at a restaurant unless I have total trust in the place. Like many other Greeks I know, moussaka is a dish I mostly enjoy cooking and eating at home.

We recently spoke to Marianna Leivaditaki about her cookbook, “Aegean: Recipes from the Mountains to the Sea” (Kyle Books, September 2020), which delves into the cuisine of Crete, the largest island in Greece and one of its most distinct. Marianna grew up on Crete, where her father was a fisherman and her mother ran the family’s restaurant, before later settling in the UK – she’s now the head chef at Morito Hackney Road in London. A skilled storyteller, she weaves an enveloping portrait of life on the island, which is simple but simultaneously rich, and presents its cuisine through a personal lens. The end result is a transporting love letter to Crete, an island with so much to give.

Greek stifado is a special dish: It requires time to prepare but the result is succulent, rewarding and stomach-warming, like stews ought to be. Tender, juicy chunks of meat are patiently cooked at low heat amid a sea of small pearl onions in a rich red wine sauce flavored with warming spices and herbs, like allspice, cinnamon, cloves, bay leaves and rosemary, that I tend to associate more with the winter season. By the end, the onions go glossy and caramelized in this delicious sauce and the pieces of meat are fork tender. The word stifado derives from the ancient Greek word tyfos (τύφος), which means steam. This is the root for the Latin word estufare, from which the Italian stufato (or Venetian stufado), the Italian word for stew, was born.

Pies, both sweet and savory, are an essential component of the Greek cuisine. Each region in the country usually has several different takes on pita (πίτα, or pie, the plural being πίτες, or pites), which is enclosed either in pastry, most commonly phyllo, or using a different method that bypasses pastry altogether. Besides the fillings, the variation in pie recipes around Greece mostly comes down to the kinds of phyllo used: its ingredients and the technique of rolling it out. Then there’s also the question of how the phyllo is assembled or wrapped around the filling, before the pie is finally baked, fried or even grilled.

In Greece, Epiphany is celebrated on January 6 (some eastern Orthodox churches celebrate it on January 19). To say it’s significant is an understatement: For eastern Christians like the Greeks, the day commemorates the baptism of Jesus in the River Jordan by John the Baptist, seen as his manifestation as the son of God. For western Christians, the celebration came to commemorate the visit of the Magi; as a result, the day is also called Three Kings’ Day, often shortened to Kings’ Day. Called Theofania (theos=god + faino=reveal) or commonly Ton Foton (Των Φώτων, which literally translates “Of the Lights”), the celebration revolves around the blessing of waters. The process begins on the day prior, January 5, which is called protagiasi or fotisi.

For most of us around the globe, 2020 has been an unexpected and extremely challenging year. The world has never felt smaller. Here in Athens, we have been on a second strict lockdown for a month and a half now. My seven-year-old son is learning online, and I often feel like I’m juggling too many balls: coordinating and overseeing his schooling schedule, keeping the house as organized as I can considering that we spend almost all our time here, and trying to work at the same time. But the pandemic has had one positive effect, at least for me: I’ve found the time to experiment with recipes and spend quality time alone and focused (or at least semi-focused) in my kitchen. It has been keeping me sane, creative and positive. “My kitchen is my shrine and in it I shine!” is my motto for this weird year.

The presence of bread on the Greek Christmas table is rich with significance: It symbolizes hope for prosperity, an abundant harvest year and good health. The tradition of baking bread for a festive occasion, as well as its many symbolic meanings, can be traced back to ancient times, when many great Mediterranean civilizations associated the cycle of human life with the full life cycle of wheat. It was a belief that embedded deeply in Greek folk culture and has survived over the centuries, ultimately coming to occupy an important place in Christianity. Christopsomo (Christ’s Bread) is a type of traditional Christmas bread prepared all across Greece. The bread itself and the ceremonial nature of preparing it symbolize the prosperity of the household.

Unlike many other pulses, most bean varieties were not native to the eastern Mediterranean, originating instead in Central and South America. Yet they have adapted well to the climate in Greece (and across the globe) and are now quite popular and an important source of protein here, where they are cooked in a variety of ways. In fact, the bean soup known as fasolada is considered our national dish – it’s humble, affordable and easy-to-cook yet still hearty and delicious. Gigantes (“giants”) are particularly loved in Greece. These large white beans are also known as elephant beans, a nod to their size. Some of the best giant beans in Greece are grown in the country’s northwest, most famously in Prespes and Kastoria, both regions with a PGI (Protected Geographic Indication) for giant beans.

Chirosfagia (Χοιροσφάγια, meaning “pig slaughtering”) is an old custom with ancient roots that takes place all around Greece during the winter season. Rural households – especially those involved in agriculture – typically bred a pig that was destined to be slaughtered before Christmas (between late October and Christmas Eve, depending on the region). Also known as gourounochara (which surprisingly translates as “pig happiness”), it’s a practice that guarantees a good Christmas feast. Although less widespread than before, this tradition still takes place, particularly in villages and on islands, and the slaughtering ceremony is usually a separate festivity on its own, involving music, feasting and drinking. No part of the pig goes to waste: The best cuts are set aside for the Christmas table while other parts are cured or preserved in different ways.

When rice first arrived in Greece in the 4th century B.C., a result of Alexander the Great’s campaigns in India, it was initially used as a form of medicine, usually to cure an upset stomach. With these medicinal roots, it’s no wonder that ryzogalo (ρυζόγαλο, ρύζι + γάλα, with ryzi meaning “rice” and gala meaning “milk”), or rice pudding, is so comforting. But the soothing mix of milk and rice is by no means unique to Greece: Almost every culture around the globe has its own take on rice pudding, with countless variations in flavors – including cardamom, saffron, rosewater, almonds and pistachios – ingredients and methods. Generally speaking, though, this type of pudding is more often sweet than savory, and is usually baked or boiled.

We recently spoke to Sharon Brenner about her mini-cookbook, “Athena: Cooking from Athens, Greece,” which introduces readers to Athenian-inspired dishes – with a focus on everyday food – as well as the experience of cooking and eating in Athens. It’s a small volume that opens the door to the city’s food culture. Now based in Los Angeles, CA, Sharon previously lived in Athens from 2014-2017 and has been regularly visiting Greece since 2011. The creator of the website Records in the Den, she has also published work, including food writing, in a number of zines and digital publications. Her various other culinary ventures include teaching cooking classes, running a monthly cookie pop-up and founding the dining series Athena Dinners, to be held at Marta Gallery in LA.

I can’t think of a more comforting dish than soup. It can be as simple or complex as you wish, and as cheap or expensive as you can afford. Just open your fridge or pantry, and you’re sure to find something to turn into a liquid meal – vegetables, herbs, spices, meat, poultry, seafood, grains, legumes… the list goes on. If you’re looking for a restoring bowl of soup in Greece, one of your best bets is a late-night restaurant (many operate round-the-clock) or diner. These spots, some of which are located near or inside central food markets, are perhaps best known for serving patsa (πατσά), tripe soup, a hangover helper as well as fuel for people performing hard labor early in the day – like market workers do.

A part of the Allium family, which also includes onions and garlic, leeks (prasa, πράσα, in Greek) are native to the Middle East and the eastern Mediterranean region. The hardy crop has been widely used since at least the second millennium B.C., first by the ancient Egyptians and Mesopotamians and later by the Greeks and the Romans, who spread it across Europe. Nutrient dense, leeks are rich in vitamins and minerals. The ancient Greek physician Hippocrates recommended the vegetable for the proper functioning of the urinary system and as a treatment for excessive swelling (it had additional medicinal uses in ancient times, including as a remedy to strengthen the throat and voice).

On Crete, endowed with fertile soil and an enviable climate, devotion to the island’s culinary traditions runs deep. This is even the case for people who have family ties to Crete but did not live there themselves, like Dimitris Katakis, who runs To Mitato tou Psiloriti, a small Cretan deli in Athens. In 1950 his grandparents left Crete, despite their great love for their native island, to go to Athens for better job opportunities – the postwar era saw many Greeks move to cities or even abroad in search of a better life. Yet the flavors and traditions of Crete, one of the southernmost points in Europe and the largest island in Greece, stayed with them and were lovingly passed on to their children and grandchildren.

When it comes to native grape varieties, the Greek vineyard is among the richest in the world. Presently there are 33 PDO (Protected Designation of Origin) varieties and 100 varieties with a PGI (Protected Geographical Indication) spread across the country, from the northern border to the outermost islands. While some of these indigenous varieties are extensively cultivated – assyrtiko and xinomavro come to mind – others remain unknown and even on the brink of extinction. But there are passionate winemakers across the country who are working to spotlight these lesser-known and almost forgotten varieties, people like Dionysia and Sakis Britzikis, the wife and husband behind Abelon, a family-owned winery and vineyard in the western part of the Peloponnese.

Did you know that the idea of a cheesecake is centuries old? In his book Cheesecake Madness (Simon & Schuster, 1984), John Segreto writes that, according to his research, the first cheesecake was documented between 800 to 700 B.C. on the island of Samos; other scholars, having studied ancient cheese molds and other findings unearthed in Greece, argue that a form of ancient cheesecake existed in the region even before 2000 B.C. What we know for sure is that the ancient Greeks were enamored with the combination of cheese and honey (a combination that is still popular to this day). This makes sense when you consider that honey was the main sweetener back then, a vital ingredient in both sweet and savory recipes and sauces.

In terms of popularity, no other dish in Greece can compete with gemista (γεμιστά, which means stuffed in Greek and refers to vegetables stuffed in various ways). I can’t think of even one person I know who doesn’t eat it in some form, whether tomatoes, peppers, zucchinis (and their flowers), onions or eggplants stuffed with some combination of meat, rice, wheat or other grains, seafood, pulses, nuts, fresh herbs and spices. It’s a popular dish across the Mediterranean as well as in the Middle East and the Balkans. Gemista differs from stuffed leaves, like cabbage or grape leaves, which technically fall into the “rolled” rather than the “stuffed” category (even though they are referred to as “stuffed” in English) and thus are given a different name in Greek. Unless further specified, gemista usually involves stuffing tomatoes and green peppers, which are then baked.

Considering its prime location between the Acropolis and the neighborhoods of Petralona, Kallithea and Neos Kosmos, the fact that Koukaki has seen a wave of development in the last 15 years is no surprise. Cafés, bars, restaurants, hotels and Airbnbs have sprung up all over the neighborhood, making it an increasingly popular destination for visitors. At the same time, life has become something of a headache for long-time residents – with so many apartments being turned into Airbnbs, property prices have gone up significantly, and the neighborhood has become too noisy and busy, particularly during the high season.

I fell in love with the island of Kimolos the first time I set foot on it about 15 years ago, while sailing in the area. It’s small enough to get around on your own two feet and has an enchanting simplicity – I could easily picture myself retiring on the island, in a small whitewashed house with a wood-burning oven in the yard, raising a couple of goats and growing tomatoes and grapes. Part of the Cyclades, Kimolos sits right next to the larger island of Milos and small uninhabited islands like Polyegos, Agios Efstratios and Prasonisi. It has been continuously inhabited since at least the late Neolithic Age (5300-4500 B.C.), while legend has it that the island was named after its first inhabitant, Kimolos, the husband of Side, who was the daughter of Taurus.

When people ask me what’s my favorite time of the year here in Athens, I always say it’s spring and particularly April. That is when all the Seville orange trees lining the streets of Athens – both downtown and in the suburbs – blossom and perfume the whole city. I can spend hours walking around and inhaling the wonderful scent. The common orange is believed to be a naturally occurring hybrid between the pomelo and the mandarin. There are many different varieties and other hybrids that have evolved, but they generally fall into one of two categories: sweet (citrus x sinesis), which includes varieties such as the navel orange, the Valencia orange, the blood orange and the Jaffa orange, or bitter (citrus x aurantium), which includes the Seville orange, the trifoliate orange and the bergamot orange.

Restaurants closed in Athens on Friday, March 13. For Sophia Vracha, it was a “horrible” day, a real “Friday the 13th,” as she put it. Together with her parents, Nikos and Mary, Sophia runs Kissos, a taverna in Chalandri that I wrote about when things were still “normal,” just about a month before the city went into lockdown. While it was a hard day for the family, they had seen it coming. “There was a rumor out and about in the week before it happened,” Sophia said. As she described it, a general feeling of uneasiness and insecurity was in the air. People really began to panic when Covid-19 arrived in Italy, thinking that it was just a matter of days before the virus would come to Greece.

Considering that there are more than 40,000 cultivated varieties, it’s no surprise that rice has fed people so successfully for so long. Many believe the wonder crop was first cultivated in China as early as 2500 B.C. before spreading to Tibet, India and beyond. It was in India that one of Alexander the Great’s military campaigns came across rice in the 4th century B.C. In his work Geographica (“Geography”), Greek geographer Strabo (c. 62 B.C.-24 A.D.) quotes a source from the campaign: “The rice, according to Aristobolus, stands in water in an enclosure. It is sowed in beds. The plant is four cubits in height, with many ears, and yields a large produce.”

In the next installment of CB Cooks, a series that brings our walk leaders into your home for a live cooking demonstration, Carolina Doriti, our Athens bureau chief, will be cooking dolmades avgolemono, stuffed grape leaves with avgolemono sauce. Her Instagram Live will run on Thursday, May 7, at 11:30 a.m. EDT (GMT-4). If you want to cook along with Carolina, here are the ingredients you’ll need (although all are welcome to come watch, even if you’re not cooking).

Legumes have been at the core of the Greek diet since antiquity, with chickpeas being especially popular. We find references to them, and the ways they were cooked, in the works of several ancient writers and poets, including Homer, whose epic poems provide insight into the eating and cooking habits of the time (roughly the 8th century B.C.). Revythi (ρεβύθι) is the Greek word for chickpeas, and it derives from the ancient Greek word erevynthos (ερέβυνθος), which referred to both the plant and the seed. Sappho (c. 630-570 B.C.), the greatest female Greek lyric poet, spoke of “Χρύσειοι ἐρέβινθοι ἐπ ̓ ἀιόνων ἐφύοντο,” which translates roughly as “Golden chickpeas that have for centuries been growing.”

Greek Easter was extraordinary – in the truest sense of the word – this year. Despite the fantastic weather people had to stay at home to celebrate, quite a lonesome setup compared to the crowded daylong outdoor feast that we are normally used to. Despite being at home, my 7-year-old son and I did all the same Easter traditions, just in smaller quantities. One of the most fun traditions for children is the “egg breaking” ritual. We dye eggs on Good Thursday; this year, since my son is into space and Star Wars, we used that as inspiration and dyed our eggs like planets – we’ve got plenty of time, so we might as well use it creatively!

It’s 6 a.m. Lately I’ve been waking up really early. I don’t expend enough energy I guess – not in the rhythms that I am used to anyway. Everything is suddenly so different, so eerie and lonely, and at the same time I feel like I’m being watched – as if I’m part of a movie or a weird version of Big Brother or Survivor, the kind of game show where everyone is on the same mission, but no one really trusts each other. Everyone’s scared of something invisible, and if you sneeze or cough, you get a strange look. I was joking around with the few people who were worried about Covid-19 before it had even reached Europe. At the end of January, the coronavirus made it’s way to Italy – right next door. That’s when more people started worrying.

The refrigerators are spilling out onto the sidewalk. That’s the first thing we notice at Galaktokomio, a dairy shop in Ambelokipoi. We step inside and, unsurprisingly, more of these large refrigerators line one of the walls of this tiny shop. The opposite wall is filled with shelves of pasta, trahana, almonds, flour, honey, tahini and other edible goodies, while a freezer filled with frozen pies, which look homemade, looms at the back. But their most precious gems are in the refrigerators: dairy products, including some of the best yogurt in Greece. As we stand, enthralled by the contents of these gleaming cases, Vicky approaches us. The polite and professional shopkeeper, she begins to unravel the story behind this small shop in one of the most densely populated areas in Athens.

Introduced during Ottoman times, the kafeneion – the old-fashioned kind of coffee house – has long been a fixture in Greece. By 1860, Athens already had more than 100 establishments that were serving what has been called both Greek coffee and Turkish coffee (name debates aside, we can all agree that it’s more or less the same thing, a small cup of strong coffee with a thick sludge at the bottom). They were (and still are) the domain of men, who would congregate there to talk politics and socialize over coffee as well as more substantial fare, usually simple meze and ouzo or tsipouro. Although the traditional Greek kafeneion still exists in many Athenian neighborhoods, it’s slowly dying out.

This is a story that starts and ends with the land. First there was the father, Spyros Vracha, a farmer who owned fields nearby Chalandri, now a middle-class suburb around 8 km north of downtown Athens. His crops supplied the kitchens of the tavernas in the area, which until the 1980s was dotted with villas, rather than the apartment blocks of today. Before it closed down almost 30 years ago, Ta Marmara (“The Marbles,” so called because of Chalandri’s many marble suppliers and workshops) was one of the tavernas that Spyros supplied. It was owned by Stavros and Athena, Spyros’ neighbors.

When it comes to food, Onofrio Ioakimidis takes his inspiration from both the north and the south. His love for cooking blossomed in Thessaloniki – he was born and raised in the northern Greek city, which is second only to Athens in terms of size and legendary for its cuisine. But his grande amore with the culinary arts really began with his grandmother Constanza. Originally from the southern Italian city of Naples, Constanza fled Italy during the difficult years of Mussolini and moved to Greece. Fate brought her to Thessaloniki and into the arms of Grigoris, who soon became her husband. Onofrio recalls a childhood spent in nonna’s kitchen, at first playing with flour and dough, and then eventually learning how to make pasta.

It was a frosty dark night just before the solstice and as we walked the 10 or so minutes from the Keramikos Metro to our destination, we passed familiar favorites like A Little Taste of Home and places as yet unvisited that seemed alluring. But when we ventured further into the unknown, the street was empty both of pedestrians and lit storefronts. Where was this restaurant? A few blocks more brought us back to terra cognita. The Old Bicycle (To Palio Podilato), its window bright and with a bicycle hanging inside, turned out to be practically next door to the Benaki Museum’s Pireos Street annex, one of the city’s most exciting museums for modern art, photography and foreign exhibitions.

Despite the image that Greece wants to sell the world as a holiday destination of eternal summer with beautiful beaches and clear water, the fact remains that it is a very mountainous country – almost a third of Greek land consists of hills and mountains. Most are forested, hosting a great diversity of ecosystems that offer fertile ground for mushrooms in particular. That said, mushrooms don’t feature prominently in traditional Greek dishes, and many people avoid them altogether, even the common cultivated varieties, from fear of getting sick. For many, meanwhile, mushrooms don’t evoke the best memories: During the 70s and 80s, the tinned variety was mainly used in cooking, as fresh cultivated mushrooms were rare and expensive.

Just after the stroke of midnight on New Year’s Eve or on the first day of the New Year, many Greek Orthodox families gather around the table to cut and split the vasilopita, a cake named after St. Basil (Aghios Vasilios), the Greek Santa Claus. The head of the family “crucifies” the cake three times with a knife and then cuts it into triangular pieces. Usually, the first piece is offered to Christ, the second to the Virgin Mary, the third to St. Basil and the fourth to the “house” before family members and friends each receive one. Some may offer a slice to St. Nicholas, the patron of sailors, to the poor, as St. Basil cared for them, or to the family shop or company.

Holiday traditions in Greece, like so much in that country, are rooted in ancient Greek and Roman customs – pagan, of course – that evolved through Byzantine times and were adapted with the advent of Christianity. More recently, the westernization of Christmas and New Year celebrations has made those holidays here look more like the globalized version of them, for better or for worse. Greeks like preserving their old traditions, however, and some customs still persist, even if many Greeks don’t know where they came from. The Christmas season, known in Greece as Dodekaimero (twelve days), officially begins on December 24, includes the celebration for the New Year and ends on January 6 with the huge celebration of Theophania (the baptism of Jesus Christ by John the Baptist).

Another year has gone by, another year full of beautiful restaurants and wonderful flavors. The art of cooking and the pleasure of eating have reached new heights in Athens, where it’s all about the dining experience. Restaurants keep popping up, impressing us with a wide variety of cuisines and creative twists, often presented in stunning environments. But their menus also reflect a growing environmental awareness and emphasis on sustainability, seasonality and freshness. Young, talented chefs are more and more becoming owners of their own restaurants, going beyond just cooking to cultivate relationships with their customers. Being both chef and food writer myself, I have the pleasure of experiencing this from both sides and understanding the importance of the relationship between the one doing the cooking and the one doing the eating.

What do shakshuka, kibbeh, nachos, hummus, crepes and a turkey club sandwich have in common? They are all on the menu of The Spot, a charming comfort-food/tapas bar with a global pedigree that opened in October not far from the pedestrianized road that circles the Acropolis. And they are there because they are all personal favorites of the owners, Turkish-born Aysegul Ozden Trifyllis and her Greek husband Yiannis Trifyllis. “We don’t want to fit into a niche,” Aysegul told us when we visited one balmy day in early November. “That’s why we didn’t make our food just Turkish or Greek.”

A symbol of abundance and fertility, of good luck and wealth, of life and death, pomegranates have played an important role in Greece since antiquity. With their beautiful, crowned shape, this fruit figures heavily in Greek mythology, connected as it is to the goddesses Demetra, Persephone, Hera and Aphrodite. Apart from their symbolic meaning, pomegranates are also highly praised for their wonderful flavor and remarkable health benefits. Grown in abundance in Greece, there are many varieties available, with the most popular being Ako, Wonderful, and Hermione. The latter has an exterior that is almost pale yellow in color, and its seeds are paler too, but large in size, juicy and very sweet.

Few places conjure more vivid images of delicious, cult meat consumption than Vari, a southern suburb of Athens, particularly the neighborhood of Vlahika. How, exactly, Vari became a meat-eating paradise goes back to members of the nomadic Sarakatsani tribe, who used to move their herds from the neighboring mountains of Parnitha and Penteli to spend the winter in this area, with its milder clime. In 1917, a few Sarakatsani families decided to make Vari their permanent residence. Later down the line, in 1962, Christos Goulas opened the first butcher-taverna called Tseligas (the name for a sheep herder) on Varis Koropiou Avenue (now called Eyelpidon, it’s one of the main drags in town).

Pies go back a long way in Athens. Harry’s Kitchen, a tiny pie shop on Axarlian, a small pedestrian street near Syntagma Square, does not – this hole in the wall only opened around a year ago. Yet the pies that Harris Satiridis, the shop’s namesake, and his wife, Yiouli, put out have already gained a reputation as some of the best in Athens. You could easily miss Harry’s Kitchen, it’s that small, but you won’t miss the queue of people outside, waiting to get their hands on one of the very tasty-looking pies in the small display case. And after biting into one, you’ll better appreciate why pies have been enjoyed in Athens since antiquity.

On our Culinary Secrets of Downtown Athens tour, we tuck into a large portion of yogurt served the traditional Greek way, on a plate with honey and walnuts. Few words do justice to the taste of the yogurt, which is so thick that at points it is almost solid, and the honey and walnuts are the perfect accompaniment.

Avli is one of those places you have to be introduced to by someone who’s already been there. Although a sign does exist above its narrow metal door, there’s so much graffiti on either side of it, you could walk right by even if you had the address firmly in your hand or mind. Once inside, if you’re the first customer, you still might think you’ve made a mistake. Avli means “courtyard,” but this one is narrow, much more like a back alley. Blue doors and shuttered windows the same shade as the Greek flag pierce the right wall, the left has a few potted plants and three plump alley cats comfortably ensconced on the old-fashioned rush-seated taverna chairs.

Amyndeo, a mountainous region in northwestern Greece, is a prime spot for producing wine – in fact, it’s one of the most important wine regions in the country. Located between two peaks, Vermio and Voras, this area is known for cold winters with enough rainfall and snow for the vines to withstand the relatively dry summers (usually sans-irrigation). Four surrounding lakes, the largest being Vegoritis, contribute to the mild semi-continental climate. In fact, this entire area used to be a lake thousands of years ago, which has resulted in a sandy top layer of soil and limestone subsoil, an auspicious combination that ensures the ideal drainage of rain water and delivers natural nutrients and elements to the vine roots.

A visit to Varsos, a culinary landmark in Athens that looks much the same as it did 60 years ago, is like traveling back in time to one of the city’s grand patisseries of the 1950s. The venue, which is still in the hands of the Varsos family who originally opened it, is one of the most famous of Athens’ old-style coffeehouses and is the only one that has kept its traditional charm over the last several decades. Varsos was established in 1892 in central Athens, but it is the wonderfully old-fashioned Kifisia location, to which the patisserie moved in 1932, that has made the venue famous. At the beginning of the 20th century, Kifisia was a holiday destination for rich Athenians, and their stately summer mansions still dot this beautiful yet ever-expanding northern suburb, which is now popular with professionals, families and expats.

In early September and October, Athens – just like many other cities around the world – sees an influx of young people leaving home for the first time to spend the next four years in intellectual pursuits and drinking coffee. Few among them are as concerned with what they’re eating as they are with other, seemingly more important matters, and so Greek student life is usually associated with deliveries of souvlaki, pizza and other minor domestic disasters. But for young people eating on the cheap, fast food doesn’t have to be the only option; local restaurants often offer student specials this time of year.

There’s a beautiful Greek island on the eastern edge of the Aegean Sea that is officially called Chios, but is unofficially known as “Mastiha Island.” The fifth largest among Greek islands, Chios is blessed with fertile land and a celebrated microclimate that allows islanders to grow a unique range of products, the most famous being – as its nickname suggests – mastiha (mastic), an aromatic resin produced by mastic trees. The first references to mastiha on Chios can be found in the work of Herodotus, the ancient Greek historian, who, in the 5th century BC, described those trees that grew on the south side of the island and how the ancient Greeks collected their resin and chewed it, both for pleasure and hygienic purposes. In fact, mastiha has been described as the first chewing gum in history.

While on our way to an unforgettable bite in the center of the main fishmongers’ market, these silvery beauties caught our eye. This is just one of the many backstreets we explore on our Culinary Secrets of Downtown Athens walk, as we go in search of the soul of this historic yet always vibrant city.

A neighborhood on the southeast side of Filopappou Hill, between Acropolis, Petralona, Kallithea and Neos Kosmos, Koukaki was named after one of its first residents, Georgios Koukakis, who in the early 20th century opened a successful factory there manufacturing iron beds. Gradually the area developed into a charming middle-class neighborhood, full of life and – up until the 1980s – a place Athenians charmingly referred to as “Little Paris,” in large part because of its bohemian vibe. The lower side of Koukaki has long been a students’ area due to the nearby Panteion University. Rents used to be relatively low, but after the opening of the new Acropolis Museum in 2009, the surrounding area has been booming, growing into an Airbnb goldmine and turning many locals against the trend.

On the evening version of our Downtown Athens walk, we stop for meze at one of the city’s many tabernas. Come summer, tables spill out from these restaurants onto the streets, where Athenians gather to enjoy languorous meals under strings of colorful lights. 

Growing up in Athens in the 1980s and 90s, weekend family excursions to a suburban taverna were an integral part of life. Back then, prices were affordable and eating out was not a luxury; in fact, it was a social necessity. It was a way to catch up with friends, enjoy good food and good wine, but also to entertain the kids. These tavernas were often away from the city center, in areas that offered a break from the gray buildings and the heat – usually with a large outdoor area shaded by trees, encompassing a playground and sometimes even a pond with small boats to enterain the kids. The food on offer was basic, but delicious – mainly meat (grilled lamb chops, etc.), salads, fried vegetables (zucchini, eggplant, potatoes) and dips (tzatziki and tyrokafteri, a spicy feta spread).

Loukoumades are considered to be one of the oldest recorded pastries (and desserts, for that matter) in the world – in fact, the ancient Greek poet Callimachus and philosopher Aristotle wrote about them. Nowadays, these photogenic fried-dough balls are particularly Instagram-worthy. Snap your photo before they get gobbled up!

Agapi Stavrakaki was born in Anogia, a mountain village on the island of Crete famous for producing fine produce and excellent musicians. Decades before she would open Raeti, a delightful restaurant in Athens’ Ambelokoipi neighborhood which pays homage to her island home, a 10-year-old Agapi worked by her grandmother’s side at her family’s vineyard in Anogia, cooking for the workers harvesting grapes and making wine. She and the other women would prepare huge quantities of food in enormous kettles. Despite being cooked in bulk, the food was always traditional, fresh and tasty – Cretans have high standards! Before continuing with Agapi’s story, a few things about Cretan cooking: One of the most legendary of Greece’s regional cuisines, it makes use of all the simple ingredients that are offered by nature with an open hand.

The downright whimsy of Filomila is hard to ignore – or resist. Perhaps it is the red exterior with the French-inspired script or the vintage bric-a brac and posters that cover the walls. Or it could very well be the sight of all the pies, sitting patiently by the window just asking to be eaten. One thing is sure, most of the shop’s allure stems from the energy of its owner, Efstathia, who four years ago decided to go rogue after working in various Athens restaurants and open up with just 3,000 euros to her name, against all advice from friends and family.

Pictured is an invigorating Greek breakfast of yogurt, honey and walnuts at a local institution. This is how we begin our culinary walk of downtown Athens!

When Nikos Thomas was desperately looking for work in 2005, he was forced to switch gears from music and take on a particularly unglamorous gig: working at the Hooters in Athens Mall as a grill cook, the best-paying job he could find. Little did this rocker know he would be sacrificing his life-long passion of music for a new and tastier one – cooking. Two years out from his Hooters gig, Nikos found himself enrolled at a chefs’ school, eventually moving on to work in restaurants, then hired on as chef at a hotel on the island of Zakynthos. And as Nikos opened himself up to new passions, more found its way into his life.

Athens’ image as a concrete gray city with few green spaces and a lot of traffic might be hard to shake. But would you believe only 6.5km away from the bustling city center lies a beautiful, lush forest with ancient paths and Byzantine monuments – and a little canteen where you can enjoy lunch near an ancient spring? In the forest, a 30-minute walk from the Kaisariani cemetery and off the Kaisariani Monastery loop trail is a bustling picnic area and ancient spring, a well-kept secret of Athens. Come here to seek a rare moment in city life: either snacking on a wooden bench by the water, under the trees awakened by a gentle breeze or at one of the tables and chairs under grass umbrellas by a tiny stone building that serves as the forest’s canteen, Kalopoula Refreshments. Nearby, the Kalopoula spring gurgles and froths, as picnickers and hikers take a break to some surprisingly delicious, traditional Greek food in an oasis of green.

Speed down the National Road till you’re in sight of Rendis Market, then follow the trucks off the highway and into a vast depot of concrete sheds. Though the trucks are there to pick up and deliver fruits and veg from all over Greece to supermarkets, grocers’ and farmers’ markets, we pulled over and started shop-hopping. Rendis, an industrial district of small factories, warehouses and train yards on the west side of Athens, has never been an area one would go for pleasure.

“We want to show people what Greek cuisine is really like. It’s not just souvlaki, gyros and moussaka. So in July and August when we’re closed, we travel all over the country looking for recipes, and because we love Greek wines too, we find recipes that go with them,” Xenophon says. We took a long time studying the menu – nibbling on their own olive bread – because even the dishes that sound familiar are not always what they appear to be. Take, for example, spanakopita (spinach pie). Here, it’s actually a salad. Moreover, their cheese dip, myttotos, made of three white cheeses plus black garlic, “goes back to the time of Hippocrates,” and the liver with apples, a combination we’ve never heard of, is a recipe from Karditsa in the northern Greek region of Thessaly.

Christos Mplantis, a 37-year-old farmer based in Marathon, a region in northeastern Attica, has farming in his blood. His father, Alexandros, was a farmer too, and starting at the age of ten, Christos began joining his father at farmer’s markets, or laiki (λαϊκή), around Athens any time he was off school, particularly during the summers. Although working the land and selling at markets became second nature to him, Christos didn’t immediately think to follow in his father’s steps. He went to technical school to become certified as a plumber but couldn’t find a decent job after graduating. So, around 17 years ago, he found himself in a familiar spot: working next to his father.

On our Keramikos Calling walk in Athens, we visit the weekly open-air market, tasting whatever is in season from the vendors and getting a feel for the neighborhood. 

Retsina has a bad rap. Many locals and foreigners associate this Greek classic with cheap “house wine” served at tavernas – you know, the stuff that is bright yellow in color, has an intensely resinous flavor and practically guarantees a headache the next morning. But we think retsina is just misunderstood. Increased demand in the 1960s for this resin-infused wine led to a plunge in quality, sullying its good name. Yet a new generation of Greek winemakers and sommeliers has worked tirelessly over the last decade and a half to restore retsina’s standing in the international world of wine, experimenting with different grape varietals and methods of fermentation in the process.

Feta must be one of the world’s oldest cheeses, it’s certainly one of the most famous, and it’s practically never missing from a Greek table, no matter the time of day. A person might grab a chunk of this chalk-white substance for breakfast, crunch through layers of feta-stuffed phyllo for elevenses, put a slab of it on her village salad for lunch, have it for supper along with a vegetable casserole and then pair it with watermelon for a scrumptious dessert. The only other food that a Greek may be even more addicted to is bread. If you were to guess which nation boasted the most cheese eaters on the planet, surely you would say France, home to so many delectable and sophisticated fromages.

On our Downtown Athens walk, we sample a few of Greece’s many native olive varieties at the city’s central market. The olive tree thrives in Greece, where the land is mostly rocky and steep and the climate hot and arid, and for millennia, olive oil has been as essential to Greek cooking as the gnarled, silver-leaved trees have been to the country’s landscape.

The neighborhood of Exarchia in downtown Athens has long played a storied role in the social and political history of Greece. Bordering the National Technical University of Athens, also known as Athens Polytechnic, where students staged a massive uprising against the Greek military junta in 1973 that resulted in a violent repression, and the Law School of the University of Athens, it has for years attracted people with leftist political leanings, including anarchists, socialists and anti-fascists, as well as students, bohemians and artists. Although famous for the various riots and uprisings that have taken place here throughout the years (a reputation that has often kept fearful tourists away), Exarchia has also developed a vibe and character all its own, one that’s unique amongst neighborhoods in Athens.

At first glance, Manolis, located in a quiet, residential corner of Chalandri, a neighborhood far from the bustling center of Athens, looks like your typical Greek family taverna: the large dining room is clad in wood paneling and brick, with various old-fashioned paintings, drawings and old photographs covering the walls. But if you look a little closer, the slogan written on the blackboard over the bar – “1977 was the year that Taverna O Manolis and punk rock appeared in the world” – hints at the restaurant’s penchant for music. In fact, the ties between Manolis and the music world are so strong that some of world’s top musicians including Nick Cave, the band Depeche Mode and Moby have eaten at this family-run spot. How many tavernas in Greece can boast that?

The late Christos Kaskavelis began his career as a traveling salesman of sorts: he owned a portable canteen, a common sight at farmers’ markets around Athens. Moving daily from one market to the next, he prepared coffee and snacks for the market vendors, delivering their orders on his traditional metal tray. Yet Christos harbored a special passion for koutoukia, or basement tavernas, those hidden, underground, low-budget eateries that offer a laidback atmosphere and are packed come wintertime. Places where the chatter of patrons combines with the Greek music playing in the background to create a pleasing din. For Christos, this was the best type of taverna, and it was his dream to one day open his own.

While working our way through a few of Keramikos’s side streets, we spy a street vendor grilling up souvlaki. The neighborhood’s low rents and old-time Athens feel have lured creative young Athenians to the area, but Keramikos is still home to traditional establishments and humble street vendors. It’s a place where old and new, tradition and forward-looking creativity, all coexist happily together.

You might not have heard of trahana, sometimes called rustic pasta, if you don’t possess a Greek grandmother. This humble food rarely turns up in tavernas, yet it is a staple, especially in the winter months, and the basis of many a comforting meal. In fact, it may just be the world’s first instant soup. Trahana, which is most often seen in small couscous-like pellets, represents a synthesis of wheat and dairy, making it more nutritious and tastier than ordinary pasta. Its flavor and consistency depend on whether the flour, semolina or cracked wheat is kneaded with milk, soured or fresh, or yogurt. Traditionally, the mixture would be shaped into balls or patties, dried in the sun until hard, grated into tiny granules, dried some more, and then stored in cloth bags, where it would keep for months, even years.

Piraeus has long been a city on the go: ever since antiquity, it has served as the main port of Athens. During the late 19th and early 20th centuries, the city was an important industrial center as well, and today it remains one of the most significant ports in the Mediterranean, connecting Europe with commercial capitals across the globe. Outside of their sheer size and abundant activity, the docks aren’t much to look at. But Piraeus is large and full of beautiful pockets, if you know where to look. The city’s most precious gem is undoubtedly the neighborhood of Kastella, which consists of the area around the picturesque Mikrolimano Bay and the hill rising up above it.

The neighborhood of Kallithea in southern Athens may be quiet, but this densely populated area has seen its share of activity over the years, beginning in the early 20th century when it was largely built up by refugees from Asia Minor (modern day Turkey) and the Pontus (the coastal regions of the Black Sea). The first waves arrived after the Greco-Turkish war (1919-1922) and later the Lausanne Treaty (1923), which called for a population exchange between Greece and Turkey. More refugees from the Soviet Union appeared in the 1930s and then a third wave came much later, in the 1990s, after the dissolution of the Soviet Union.

Surely this is one of the most outlandish names for a restaurant anywhere. When we first heard it, we couldn’t believe our ears. First of all, Sam isn’t even a Greek name. But “informed sources” promised superlative food and a pleasant atmosphere so off we trotted, happy to be heading for the beguiling district between Keramikos and Metaxourgio, where no one had any reason to venture not even a decade ago. The first thing that struck us that dark night in mid-December were the small festive lights entwined around the restaurant’s windows, but immediately afterwards we found ourselves smiling at the graphics. Inside and out, the signs, the lettering, the images – of a girl with braids sitting on a swing, arms behind her back, unfussy, line drawings in black and white – charmed us. The clock on one wall with the letters LOVE at the cardinal points added one perfect touch.

The most characteristic Greek dishes, the ones all Greeks know from their mothers and miss when away from home, are known as tis katsarolas, or “of the pot.” They can be meat stews or vegetable stews, often cooked with generous amounts of olive oil. Although one can find these dishes in many tavernas and restaurants in Greece, they are very rarely done correctly: bad ingredients, dubious oil and lack of freshness can affect both texture and taste and give unappetizing results. In Athens, however, Taverna tou Oikonomou in Ano Petralona specializes in this type of home-style cooking and does everything deliciously by the book.

On the day of the weekly street market, Keramikos comes alive in a riot of sights, smells and flavors. We stroll through the open-air market on our Keramikos Calling walk, tasting what’s on offer from the vendors and getting a sense of the seasonality of Greek produce. Recently we spied these fragrant lemons, which provide a pop of color in the winter months.

When I think of Christmas and the festive season, I’m immediately transported back to my childhood. Christmas to a child is something magical – the massive tree lit up and surrounded by gifts, stockings hung on the fireplace, a warm home filled with loving faces. And, of course, food always plays an important role in my memories of the holidays. Even though I don’t come from a very traditional family, certain customs – particularly those related to food – were devotedly repeated every single year with no second thought. Every year during the Christmas season, I realize how much I miss these rituals.

The Athens food scene has been booming over the past few years. The increasing number of tourists, the growing optimism of investors who see a financial opportunity in the food industry, as well as an ever-growing pool of talented new chefs, cooks, baristas and bartenders have all contributed to this creative regeneration – not just of the food scene but of the city itself. There is a deeper interest in high-quality ingredients, which is why we’re seeing more and more farm-to-table and organic restaurants. Food trends are also making an inroad, hence the growing number of street food and vegan options – some of which are so good that they really deserve an award.

Important holidays have long been associated with large feasts and for centuries have functioned as an excuse to treat family and guests to something special. Christmas in Greece is no exception: there are many culinary traditions associated with the Christmas season, known as Dodekaimero (twelve days), which officially begins on December 24 and ends on January 6. Nowadays many Greeks associate the Christmas table with a roast stuffed turkey, a tradition that arrived in Europe from North America, particularly Mexico, around the 1820s. It gradually became fashionable in Greek cities and over time turned into a Christmas staple, with a traditional stuffing prepared mainly with chestnuts, chopped turkey liver, minced meat, pine nuts and raisins.

Greeks are not a nation of breakfast eaters, so koulouri, a plain, circular bread topped with sesame seeds, tends to be the morning fare of choice for most people. There is something seriously sweet and fresh about these bread rings, which are sold on most street corners in downtown Athens and are a guaranteed encounter on our walks.

Damis Pithis has led a global life. He left his home on the island of Chios at the age of 17 to move to London. There, over the years, he built a successful career in the shipping industry. But at the age of 48, he felt like it was time for a change. Leaving behind his life in London, Pithis moved back to Greece with a dream: to build a farm. This decision didn’t come completely out of the blue. Damis has long been an avid hunter, and through this hobby he was able to visit several farms while in England, which in turn helped shape his vision. He dreamed of building a beautiful farm that was in tune with nature and respected the local landscape, where he could rear healthy, happy animals, including cow breeds that were new to Greece.

Bios in Athens’ Keramikos neighborhood officially opened in 2003, but it all began two years earlier, when the Bios Cultural Organization was first founded as an audiovisual, electronic music festival held in various warehouses near central Athens. Following his instincts, Vassilis Charalambidis, the founder of Bios, decided to refurbish a beautiful Bauhaus-style building right on the corner of Pireos and Salaminos streets to give the festival and organization a permanent home. This innovative project had an immense impact on Athens, and very soon Bios became a kind of landmark and meeting point for creative young Athenians with an inquiring mind and a special love for their city. Its main goal over the past 25-odd years has been to promote contemporary arts, new technologies and creative, free thinking.

On our Keramikos walk, we got a taste of some delicious spoon sweets. These fruit preserves differ from jam and marmalade mainly in terms of texture – the ingredient being preserved should be firm and in a thick, transparent syrup, unlike the soft and pulpy texture of jam and marmalade.

Let us begin with a little Greek mythology. Hermes – son of Zeus, god of thieves and commerce and messenger of Olympus – and Krokos, a mortal youth, were best friends. One day, while the two friends were practicing their discus throwing, Hermes accidentally hit Crocus on the head and wounded him fatally. On the very spot where he was felled, a beautiful flower sprang up. Three drops of blood from Krokos’s head fell on the center of the flower, from which three stigmas grew. This is just one of many origin stories for Crocus sativus, or the saffron crocus, whose crimson stigmas are harvested to make the highly prized spice of the same name.

In the center of Exarchia, a hub of activism often referred to as the “anarchist” neighborhood of Athens, a small minimalist eatery with just a few tables outside opened last April and was an instant success by breaking all the rules. At first glance it looks like a regular souvlaki shop, with sauces and condiments lined up at the front, pita breads being grilled and potatoes being fried. It even smells familiar, but if you look closely, you will notice that there is no meat in sight or, to be exact, no animal products. Welcome to Cookoomela Grill, Greece’s first vegan souvlaki spot.

A guest arriving at a Greek home should expect an overwhelming array of traditional welcoming treats that will be presented upon their arrival, from coffee and cookies, to cakes, homemade liqueurs, loukoumi and more. But there’s one sweet something that has long been linked with hospitality and welcoming in any proper, traditional Greek home: glyko tou koutaliou, or “spoon sweet,” a type of fruit preserve whose roots go way back to ancient times. For centuries, preservation was a necessary part of the harvest – it was the only way to make excess fresh fruits and vegetables last for as long as possible.

When we embarked on the ferryboat to the South Aegean island of Kea at Lavrio, about an hour’s drive from Athens, we didn’t see any of the tourists that typically fill ferries going to the Cyclades in summer. Traveling with the summer winds just an hour further, we seemed to slip through an invisible door into a world at once very close but far away in ethos. Many wealthy denizens of Attica, the peninsula that encompasses Athens, have built their summer homes here in a style that deviates from the famous blue-and-white of the Cyclades, incorporating local stones and looking somehow traditional and modern at the same time, blending into the local landscape. A big aspect of this landscape – yet another surprise, the greenness of the island – is the thousands of trees that make up the ancient oak forest carpeting Kea, whose acorns are undergoing a felicitous revival as a staple of local economic – and even culinary – life.

At the corner of Psaron and Salaminos streets, in a quiet neighborhood of Piraeus, there’s a place that looks straight out of a 1960s Greek black-and-white movie. Its name, eidikon, means “special,” and it’s the last of its kind: a bakalotaverna, or grocery store and eatery, all in one. The shop opened in 1920, when the three Papakonstantinou brothers from Gardiki, an impoverished village near Trikala in central Greece, came to Athens in search of better prospects. The building was the tallest in the area. It had large windows, and in good weather, one could even see the sea on the horizon.

The geography of Lavrion, a seaside town located in southeast Attica, about a 45-minute drive from downtown Athens, has played a big role in shaping its population. The most important factor is Lavrion’s proximity to the sea. With an abundance of fish and seafood at its doorstep, as well as a marina and port, it’s not wonder that a large portion of the town’s population are fishermen. Perhaps not as obvious, considering it’s more concealed nature, is Lavrion’s mining industry. Since before 3,000 B.C., the area was famed for its silver and lead mines. Although abandoned in the 2nd century B.C., the mines were re-opened in 1864, attracting a large number of miners who eventually settled in the town.

It used to be that when you paid an unexpected visit to a Greek household, you would almost surely be offered a gelatinous and aromatic sweet called loukoumi – a little pillowy bite covered in powdered sugar. Likewise, a coffee at kafeneia, Greek coffee shops, used to be accompanied by a loukoumi, as the sugary treat complimented the dark brew. While loukoumi is not as commonplace nowadays, it is still a beloved treat in Greek homes, for it’s sweet enough to satisfy sugar cravings, but simple enough – the basic ingredients are water, sugar and starch – to be relatively low-calorie. And even if it’s not as popular as it used to be, it has certainly had a lasting impact: consider that the word “loukoumi” is used in the Greek language to mean something delicious in general, whether a nicely roasted piece of meat, a coveted object or a beautiful woman.