FOUR OR five men - servers and perhaps an owner - came by our table during the course of dinner at the new upscale Greek restaurant Estia, all bearing strong opinions.
The floor captain stopped at our table at least three times to inquire whether we had made a wine selection, and to give us his view of which wine we should order. He gave us just one choice of white, one of red, without knowing our food selections.
Mostly we were happy with the suggestions of our strong-willed advisers. Which, given the restaurant's emphasis on fresh fish and simple preparations, perhaps isn't that surprising. But since the spacious restaurant, decorated like a rustic Greek home, is located in the theater district - it was formerly Toto - what may surprise some diners familiar with, say, moderate-cost Greek restaurants like Dmitri's, are the prices.
The grilled octopus appetizer ($18) - fast becoming a "signature dish," according to one of our counselors - was excellent, dressed with vinegar and served with capers, diced red pepper and onion. Perhaps it was the best octopus I've had - better than Dmitri's (which is very good) - but at Dmitri's you can get a whole entree for 18 bucks.
Estia chips ($14) were thin slices of eggplant and zucchini, flash-fried till crisp and served with tzatziki. Nice, but expensive for a simple vegetable dish.
There's a production involved with ordering fish, which is the focus here. A server will lead you up to a display where whole fish are laid out in ice, as in a market stand, and explain what each type is and how it is prepared. Our server seemed to have a marked preference for those fish served fried, rather than grilled. He said that someone would select fish for us according to the weight desired (one pound is recommended for one person) and show us the actual fish. But this did not happen in our case.
If it had, I might have said that I didn't need three barbouni (aka red mullet). Especially as the fish ($24 a pound) was the dud of the evening, served floured and pan-fried whole. It was so stiff that it seemed deep-fried, and more than anything the salty coating reminded me of fried chicken.
On the other hand, the lavraki (aka loup de mer, $27 a pound) was terrific, with the boned, delicate flesh lovingly accented with a lemon-olive oil emulsion, capers and gentle grilling.
Four lamb chops (a whopping $33) were marinated in olive oil and herbs for three days, according to 26-year-old chef Gus Pashalis. (Gus' father, Pete, Pete's brother, Nick Pashalis, and John Lois are the owners; the trio also own Pietro's Coal Oven Pizzerias.) Tender and perfectly medium rare, as requested, they were served with fine but unimaginative thick-cut French fries.
Billed as wild greens on the menu, lemony boiled red and green Swish chard ($7), served at room temperature, was rightly recommended as a good accompaniment for the fish.
Desserts we tried ($7.25) were simple but prepared with a light, deft touch. Baklava was stuffed with almonds instead of walnuts, and another phyllo-based pastry was layered with a lemony semolina-based custard.
The Greek coffee ($3.50), was rough and required careful sipping to avoid the fine coffee grounds. But the sediment left on the bottom has a special allure: Some believe you can divine your future from its design.
After several glasses of wine, one of my dining companions took a shot at fortune-telling, perhaps trying to reassert her vision of the world after being shepherded through dinner by our solicitous new friends.
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