The neighborhood of Kesariani, built on the lower slopes of Mount Hymettos and located around 3 kilometers east of central Athens, has long been a culinary destination, particularly for seafood (even though it’s nowhere near the water). Many of the old seafood restaurants survive to this day although the neighborhood’s offerings have expanded to include other types of eateries – nothing too fancy, mostly mezedepolia, or meze houses. What makes these spots so appealing is their relaxed, convivial atmosphere. It’s a feeling that permeates the entire neighborhood, where old houses built by Greek refugees from Smyrna (or Izmir) still stand next to modern apartment blocks.

Today a residential neighborhood four kilometers north of downtown Athens, Galatsi was once comprised of endless fields where shepherds grazed their flocks. Until the mid-19th century, this area at the foot of the Tourkovounia hill range was uninhabited – the shepherds had free rein. All that changed some 150 years ago when the hills began to be quarried for building materials, particularly lime; workers at the lime kilns eventually became the neighborhood’s first residents. But the local shepherds didn’t immediately pack up and leave. In fact, according to one local legend, they inadvertently gave the new neighborhood its name. To sell their milk to the recently arrived residents, the shepherds would roam the streets shouting “Gala, gala, fresko gala” (Milk, milk, fresh milk). It was this constant cry that supposedly led people to call the neighborhood Galatsi.

Despite the somewhat rundown, seedy feel of Omonia today, for all of the 19th century and a good part of the 20th the neighborhood was the real center of downtown Athens. “No one lives in Athens if he does not spend at least one hour a day in the Hafteia,” wrote the famous writer and playwright Gregorios Xenopoulos in 1913, referring to the blocks around the intersection of Aiolou and Stadiou Streets, so named allegedly after a 19th-century café in the area owned by a Mr. Haftas. The area was a commercial hub, filled with stores, coffee and sweet shops and hotels. It was a place where people would come to shop and while away the day or the evening. Given its popularity, it’s no surprise that Athens’ first large department stores, like Lambropoulos and Katrantzos Sport, opened here in the early 20th century.

Since its name derives from the Turkish word peynir (cheese), it’s no surprise that Athens’ best peinirli (πεϊνιρλί, “with cheese”), a boat-shaped flatbread similar to pide in Turkey and khachapuri in Georgia, is usually found at old, specialized shops or eateries owned by families who originally came from Asia Minor or Pontus, the Greek name for the southern coast of the Black Sea, in the early 20th century. So when Spyros, the owner of Peinirli Ionias in Ambelokipoi, one of the most popular peinirli takeaways in downtown Athens, casually mentions that he originally hails from the Ionian island of Corfu – nowhere near Asia Minor, another name for Turkey’s Anatolia region – we are left scratching our heads. Sensing our confusion, he quickly adds that he learned the art of peinirli-making directly from the source, so to speak: his father- and mother-in-law, who both emigrated to Athens as part of the 1923 population exchange between Greece and Turkey.

At first bite, the flavors don’t seem that different. But then comes a rush of spice or an unfamiliar herbal note, and it’s clear that this isn’t standard Greek fare – in fact, it’s not Greek at all. It may serve a community of Greeks, but – as its name implies – the Association of Greeks from Egypt (SAE) specializes in Egyptian food. What began as a small canteen providing the familiar tastes of home for the association’s members has grown over the years into a popular local hangout, dishing up traditional Egyptian dishes to Athenians of all persuasions. Despite the long and storied history of Hellenistic culture, which stretches into antiquity, the modern state of Greece is relatively young, and like many nation states, its story is bound up in migration.

It has been said that when Greeks want a good meal, they stay at home, and that when they go out, having fun is the object, the food a secondary concern. But that was in the past. As diners have become more sophisticated and demanding, restaurants’ and tavernas’ standards have been rising and a mediocre meal is hard to find. But the craving for home cooking, for those laborious, slow-simmered soups, stews, and casseroles that mothers and grandmothers used to devote their days to creating still persists. And the old-fashioned mageirio or mageriko is an institution that satisfies this urge.

When childhood friends Yioula Svyrinaki and Michalis Psomadakis were planning last year to open up To Laini, a spot that would serve the kind of traditional food and drink found on their home island of Crete, it wasn’t very hard for them to decide on where to locate their new venture: the Keramikos neighborhood. The two budding restaurateurs were already living in the area, but there was much more that made Keramikos an ideal choice for opening up their ten-table kafeneio, which on Crete refers to a no frills café that also serves food. Located just a ten-minute walk from Athens’ buzzing historic center, the laid back Keramikos neighborhood seems to live in a magical world of its own, a place where old and new, Greece’s storied past and often turbulent present, tradition and forward-looking creativity, all coexist happily together.

Walking down Pallados Street, located a few steps away from the Athens Central Food Market, is like a treasure hunt, one where the riches are the old-time kitchenware stores where past generations of Athenians used to shop for their cutlery and crystal, be it glasses, vases or chandeliers. As the years went by, the shops began adding more variety to their stock, mostly kitchen equipment and home goods. But as they grew bloated with objects charming and tacky, delicate and bulky, useful and meaningless, these shops also began to dwindle in number. Few survive among the bars and eateries that now line the street. We first stumbled upon tiny Tsiknaboom while on the hunt for these bastions of old Athens.

On a busy thoroughfare in Keramikos near the bustling neighborhood of Gazi, it’s easy to miss Athiri – but we urge you to keep an eye out for this culinary gem. When we last visited the restaurant, the polite waiters welcomed us with gracious smiles. We chose a table in the verdant courtyard, a small oasis in the heart of Athens. The interior of the restaurant is simple and elegant as well, with modern details to complement the lovely atmosphere. Chef Alexander Kardasis has a personal and modern vision of Greek cuisine and is always striving to create clean flavors with traditional underpinnings. To that end, he’s assembled a collection of the finest raw materials, many of which arrive fresh daily.

The debate rages on: which are Greece’s best traditional Christmas cookies, kourambiedes or melomakarona? Amongst our friends and family, moist, honey-soaked melomakarona win out over the crumbly, butter-rich almond kourambiedes. The word “melomakarona” is a combination of meli, which means “honey,” and makaronia, which comes from the ancient Greek word makaria (μακαρία), meaning “blessed” (and having nothing to do with the Italian pasta with the Greek name “macaroni”). Long ago, the makaria was a piece of oval-shaped bread made for a funerary dinner to bless the dead. Later on, the makaria was soaked in honey and became known as melomakarono (the singular form of the word; these cookies are also called finikia by some).

Not only do the fishmongers at the Athens fish market offer the freshest seafood, but they also know how to create an artful display to catch a customer’s eye. We passed this beautiful arrangement of sliced salmon on our Downtown Athens walk.

It’s a quiet Tuesday lunchtime when we pass through Eleftheroton Square in Chalandri, one of Athens’s northern suburbs. Anyone living in the surrounding areas knows that this boisterous neighborhood is the best place to shop and go out, whether for a bite to eat or a drink. From small, quiet bars to gourmet restaurants, from cafés to wine bars, Chalandri has something for everyone. As expected, the square is dotted with places to sit and enjoy a coffee or have a meal while watching the world go by. Most of them are large, expensive-looking, and completely empty, apart from Ouzeri O Mitsos, a simple, teeny-tiny place squeezed amongst them, which is slowly filling up with customers.

The warm months in Greece have special meaning for most villages, particularly on the islands, as they herald the legendary panegyria. Organized by locals, these communal festivals are usually held outdoors, often in the village’s central square. They provide an opportunity for people of all ages, from young children up to elderly folks, to feast, drink and dance until the early morning hours – it’s a chance for the whole family to let loose. Considering that this tradition involves entertainment, food, booze and dancing, it’s no surprise that its observance is centuries old. The word panegyri (πανηγύρι) derives from the ancient Greek word panegyris (πανήγυρις, pan = all + agiris = meeting), whose use has been documented as early as the 7th century BC.

Our Downtown Athens tour does not end without a stop for some of the best souvlaki in the city. Remember, do not eat breakfast before showing up! 

In Greece, where the land is mostly rocky and steep and the climate hot and arid, the olive tree thrives, and for millennia, olive oil has been as essential to Greek cooking as the gnarled, silver-leaved trees have been to its landscape. Greece is the third largest producer of olive oil in the world after Spain and Italy and the greatest in consumption per capita. Used liberally as a cooking fat for all manner of ingredients and preparations, as well as in its raw state to dress or flavor dishes, olive oil also plays an influential role in Greek baking, such as in koulourakia, twisted or coiled cookies, and paximadia, the twice-baked rusks that come savory or sweet.