I am convinced that the Greeks invented their exceedingly complex language for one reason only—to make English speakers sound silly when ordering from their menus. "Yes, I'll have the spanakopi ... er, the spanakapapita …the mini-spinach pies." But no matter how difficult it may be getting the words out, shoveling the food in is far easier, especially when prepared the way Athena does it.
Athena is not nouvelle or however one says "new" in Greek. It's a classic Greek menu with classic Greek ingredients served by classic Greek men. Nick Tsoukalas, the restaurant's manager, has embarked on a redesign and reinvention of the Greektown eatery. With a new dining atrium with soaring views of the Loop, private party rooms and a subdued interior Athena whispers "We're Greek" rather than screaming "LOOK AT ALL THIS GREEK STUFF!" You will find no replicas of the Parthenon friezes. Sorry—there are no mosaics of Alexander the Great. The new focus is now on the cuisine and, frankly, it shows. (Note: There are also retractable doors surrounding the spacious patio—and heated floors.)
Our server, Sam (and that is not his real name and, yes, he's from Greece), suggested the pipperies florines to start. These are roasted red peppers stuffed with herbed feta cheese. What could possibly be wrong with this dish? Nothing at all. I usually do not like peppers. I find their skins chewy, their flesh gas-inducing and their flavor nothing special. I'm not sure what the chef at Athena did, but these were tender and full of flavor. It must be a Greek thing. My dining companion order the spanakopitakia or the miniature spinach pies with a side of Greek pita also recommended by Sam. He said the bread was amazing. You know if he took it home and fought off Persians with a Hello Kitty pencil for the right to do so, he was serious about the pita.
I have a theory about lamb. Those who raise them cook them best. The Greeks have been raising lamb for millennia. According to Sam, the Greeks invented sheep, so who better to prepare them than the Greeks? I ordered the paidakia—five medium-rare lamb chops piled into the air on a platter. I honestly believed Sam after eating this dish, because the lamb chops were remarkable. I was actually disappointed when I finished them. I just didn't want them to end! Had I actually eaten more I would have ruptured my Marc Jacobs skinny jeans, so one serving probably was enough.
My dining companion ordered the Athenian chicken. While a staple at the eatery for more than 15 years, the chicken was juicy (as were some of the waiters), bursting at their beaks with flavor. (They didn't really serve them with beaks but it's a good literary effect, no?) When going Greek always order something char-grilled. The chef at Athena has a way with seasoning. I was expecting mediocre but what I got was much more than that.
Dessert really wound down the taste-bud extravaganza we had going on. If my tongue could sashay and work a runway while lip-synching Nina Simone, that's what was going on at this point. So dessert for me had to be simple. The crema caramale was good but not great. I was a little disenchanted with the caramel glaze, which was a tad bit thin. Baked custard needs something more substantial, and the rather wilted caramel glaze did not provide any.
However, the Greek coffee sure did! I'd never had Greek coffee. It's exactly like Turkish coffee but lighter in color and, well, Greek. If I were able to get this every day, I would. It was wonderful and the perfect end to a near perfect meal. My dining companion ordered the ek mek, a traditional Greek dessert with shredded kadaifi (shredded wheat pastry), custard and cream. He was torn between that and the baklava cheesecake. (Aren't we all, though?) He was completely satisfied with his choice and was determined to return in a month for his 78th birthday for more mek.
Athena is a Greek restaurant, with Greek roots and a sampling of Greek cuisine in a very non-Greek setting. There is no bouzouki. There are no Grecian urns depicting the ancient Olympiads. What abounds is great Greek food with great Greek hospitality.
For more information in Athena, visit www.athenarestaurantchicago.com .
Chop, chop
One of the undiscovered jewels on the restaurant scene, Benny's Chop House (444 N. Wabash Ave.; www.bennyschophouse.com ) is refreshingly low-key despite its sophisticated atmosphere.
During a media visit, Director of Operations Mitchell Schmieding talked about one of the more popular aspects of the restaurant: "Whenever we do a reception, we remove all the furniture and, of course, what are the most requested tables in a restaurant? Booths, by a window. Since we have large window spaces, we decided to turn [the front area] into a mini-dining room/bar, and it's been outrageously successful."
Benny's (the third reiteration of a restaurant at this address, which is where the Jazz Record Mart used to be) is like many steakhouses, with warm woods and muted lighting—almost giving the feel that practically any table in the back dining-room area (divided into three sections to cut down on traffic and noise, Schmieding said) feels like a private getaway. However, one thing that distinguishes the restaurant from similar ones is the lack of a dress code—a surprising aspect of this elegant eatery. In fact, said Schmieding, one could wear cutoffs and flip-flops (although this writer would never do that, natch). "[What you wear] doesn't matter—as long as you have cash to spend," said Schmieding.
As for the food, the quality matches the ambiance. The jumbo lump crab cake was flavorful and the dish called Benny's Bone Marrow was out of this world.
Even though it seemed that every item I tasted was a high point, the wild mushroom and truffle flatbread was, hands down, the best flatbread I've ever tasted. (I plan on going back just to have that again.) However, Executive Chef Jonathan Lane definitely knows his meats—and if his homemade cured maple bacon is wrong, I don't want to be right.
Benny's is one of the few steakhouses with its own pastry chef, and Aaron Lindgren doesn't disappoint. I tried a dessert trio of a Meyer lemon cloud with honey gold tangerine sorbet; chocolate pudding cake with toffee ice cream; and milk chocolate s'mores with graham-cracker "mud"—and each item was more phenomenal than the previous one.
So run (don't walk) to Benny's. You will be more than satisfied.
There is entertainment Wednesdays through Sundays. Past performers include vocalist Joan Collaso; pianist Larry Hanks; and duo Cécile Savage and Calvin "Koco" Brunson.
—Andrew Davis
