On a recent visit to Athens, we traipsed beneath generous orange trees and scraggy vines climbing crumbling walls; we attempted — and failed — to bypass several ice cream shops, those which bring such unruly flavours as to instantly beguile even the most full-up of characters. And we guided ourselves past fresh lemons, warm spinach and feta in filo pastry, the charcoal-roll of chicken and lamb, skin charred but interiors mystifyingly soft; even the odd waft of crack in less polished quarters — perfection is charmless after all. All this beneath a bright sun and in the shadow of ancient pillars, to the tune of quick-fingered guitar players who dance between crowds of tanned men and beautiful women. Here is a city ever ready, you see, to hand you an extremely cold beer, a f***ing good time.
Such moments are impossible to import, especially to a city as serious as London, but Zylia is romantic and hopeful enough to try. And so here arrives a Covent Garden taverna from the endearing Nick Molyviatis (of Singburi fame) and a Cypriot restaurateur called Barry Karacostas, who cut his teeth at the food hall group Arcade. Interiors mirror those of the neo-tavernas of modern Athens: walls are white, ceilings industrial; modernity is seamlessly blended with tradition. Zeus might be long gone but the promise of dishes like tuna crudo, tender beans and slow-cooked lamb lives on, albeit next to fancier wine and shocks of refinement. To Greeks, Cypriots, food is neither trend nor currency, but life in all its terrifying glory. Zylia captures this astutely but comfortably. An excellent Athenian waitress helps. She’s quick to bring a £36 bottle of assyrtiko, the grape “of the moment”. Inoffensive, inexpensive.
Starters and Small Plates
With the assyrtiko, some Greek hits. Trying to think of a George Michael gag here but unable. So, first, a pita and bread basket, which lands on the table warm thanks to time on the grill and flashing gold and green by way of olive oil and oregano. It looks good but smells better. Increasingly large chunks are spread through a dip of roasted aubergine with sweet peppers and a light tickling of snappy vinegar. Something to awaken the senses, to enliven the mind.
Next, starters. The prawn saganaki is most curious of all, a dangerous concoction of medium-sized chaps resting on a bed of spiced tomato, yoghurt and tahini; it’s balanced, moreish and the prawns are cooked to a rapturous level. As are the metsovone, or fried cheese balls to you and me. Lovely little spheres doused in honey. “Should we add a little more honey?” asks Molyviatis. The answer is always no. And relax, the honey isn’t “hot” — its ubiquity is tedious. A smidge of thyme strolls through the richness of the soft cheese like Alan Titchmarsh does a garden. It’s as good an iteration as possible.
Greek Salad
A Greek salad is fresh, zingy, all the buzzwords. But a moderate point of contention because in “actual” Greece the tomatoes are so bouncy with umami, so joyously large that to break the skin brings an instant soup — one that requires only a smattering of salt to bring it to life. We just don’t get the same tomatoes here in these falderal lands. It’s as good an iteration as possible and I needn’t be quite so empirical. Anyway, only ordered because the seasonal greens (horta), which the Greeks braise so lovingly with garlic and lemon, had been held up en route at Customs (early days, bedding in and imports are challenging). Their flavour is extraordinary.
Souvlaki and Mains
Souvlaki: one of chicken, a second of pork. They’re masterfully done for a London crowd, two well portioned skewers on bright onions, glistening with fat and all the happy trappings of flamed meat. Not even a little dry. Also, marvellously priced at £13.50 and £15.50 per tray. Have the meat with a portion of fries — Greeks do the best in the world — and hey ho, a bloody good lunch in a pocket of London mostly devoid of them.
I’ll be back to Zylia. It’s a fabulous taverna, one trumpeting the joy of Hellenic lands with passion and élan, bringing whimsy to a city too precise. London deserves Greek romance.
What You Say
- Kate Griffiths: “Unreal food, the taramasalata was the best I’ve ever had. Would highly recommend. If you get Kabir serving you, you’re very lucky — he’s the best!”
- Finn Uden: “Incredible food and vibes. Really attentive team. Great flavours great atmosphere. 10/10.”
- Alexandros Kolovos: “Authentic!”
