The smaller dishes were equally well conceived. Rather than bread, each table receives oil-kissed crispy toast points with a creamy fava spread spotted with crisp bits of mild onion. Three or four crispy, salty, oily sardines were wonderful with the lemon-herb sauce that pooled beneath them. In the roasted red pepper dip the flavors of both sweet and especially hot blended within the lightness of the whipped feta.
Whipped feta with red pepper is more of a confection out on Forest Avenue at Acropolis — a touch cream-cheesier and a good deal sweeter. In this it is typical of Acropolis’s very different sort of appeal. It is a bold restaurant that invites its customers to gaze upon their food stewing on a steam table before sitting them down for a formal meal at which entrées cost $15 to $17. I was skeptical as we were led past all that steam into the cavernous and dimly lit interior. By the end of our meal however, I was a convert. The food at Acropolis does not approach the heights of Emilitsa’s. But dinner at Acropolis offered some of the most unexpected pleasures I have encountered at a meal in quite a while — it was flawed, strange, touching, and life-affirming.
Our somewhat intense waiter had no problem making himself heard over the live music. He prefers reciting the wine list to letting you read it and he didn’t write things down — which may explain why our Greek chicken salad lacked chicken, but no matter. The small band was galvanizing, but did not preclude conversation — even when they briefly rose to follow a slightly shy belly-dancer through Acropolis’s several dining rooms. Even nicer was when Mano and his younger brother, owner Nikos's sons, played a few slow, sad Greek songs for a table of regulars.
When our attention turned to the food we were pleasantly surprised. A sampler of appetizers featured that creamy pepper spread and also some floppy fries that were not bad with the block of nice feta. The well-herbed meatballs were quite good dipped in the sauce of yogurt, cucumber, and garlic. The slices of grilled zucchini had been cooked beyond resiliency, but offered a nice flavor.
When our entrées arrived the shrimp Santorini seemed prepared to order, while the baked pork with lemon and oregano did not. The shrimp dish was buttery, mild, and comforting. Thanks to restrained seasoning the flavor of the shrimp was allowed to carry the dish. Rice spotted with herbs, onion, and tomato had a texture reminiscent of risotto. The pork carried some signs of its time in the steam. Mostly tender, it was a bit tough in some spots and a bit wet in others, but not bad overall.
The highlight of the night was when Nikos's daughter, perhaps nine years old, stopped by our table and struck up what became my favorite conversation about a meal in a long time. Offering us a Greek story, she chose to relate how Cronos had eaten his children.
