Eos Greek Cuisine
490 Summer St., Stamford. (203) 569-6250, www.eosgreekcuisine.com
The simple flavors of Greece sparkle at Eos. In the sparse dining room, watery blue lights play on a wall of white plaster waves, evoking whitewashed adobes, azure waters and the Greek goddess of dawn who rose from the sea, Eos.
At Eos, Mediterranean cooking is prepared with finesse. The recipes are "Mana" Eleni Glekas's from her hometown in the Peloponesse. Glekas watches over the kitchen in this almost two-year-old family business.
Whole char-grilled bronzini, Mediterranean sea bass ($30), is exquisitely rustic. The fish comes straight off the plane from Greece every morning, and it's grilled on the bone, head on. Our waiter offers to bring it out filleted or whole. We take it whole. We pull mouthfuls of tender, juicy flesh from the spine, leaving bones behind. The moist fish tastes of crisp charred skin, olive oil, oregano, lemon juice, sea salt and pepper. It is scattered with minced red pepper and capers, and it is luscious.
Entrees come with two sides. Horta — dandelion leaves — have been simmered until there's not a trace of bitterness. I don't mind a bit of bitter, but we all love these big, subdued greens, squirted with lemon, dashed with salt and slicked with olive oil. The special side dish of roasted asparagus sprinkled with grated cheese also pleases us all.
From the mezes, we choose saganaki ($9), flaming cheese. It's a wedge of sheep's milk cheese called kefalograviera, dredged in flour, fried and, tableside, doused with brandy and lit afire. Blue flames leap from the platter. Heads turn. We wrap melting cheese in warm soft pita, a soothing end to the pyrotechnic drama.
I have to try the grilled octopus ($15). I've got this thing about octopus. When I was 7, I lived on the Mediterranean in a country whose name should not be uttered to a Greek. I watched fishermen bash fresh-caught octopus against rocks to tenderize the meat. When my family traveled to Athens, I had my octopus epiphany. There I savored the plump, tender grilled octopus that has stayed in mind for decades. Since then, I approach every octopus with the hope that it would capture that elusive flavor memory.
Eos' grilled octopus is very tender. But when I tried it, the char overwhelmed the flavor of the octopus itself, which was topped with the increasingly ubiquitous lemon, capers and red pepper.
In the plate of grilled chicken and potatoes ($18), golden brown half-chicken is also seasoned with oregano, lemon, minced red peppers and capers. The lemon potatoes, wedges of Yukon gold, are sublime.
Four grilled lamb chops ($29) come out gray when I have asked for rare. But yet again, the seasoning is deft, and the flavorful meat juices have dressed a bed of chopped frizzy endive and red pepper, a nice touch. Rice pilaf with tomato and vegetables are a natural partner.
Eos' moussaka ($10), minced lamb, tomato and eggplant casserole, is light and bright. Nutmeg scents the layer of soft béchamel.
Portions at Eos are hearty. We haven't finished the bronzini, and I can't leave a morsel of that sweet flesh behind. I pull every last bit from the bones and ask the waiter to wrap it up. The next day, it is delicious cold.
Too often in restaurants, coffee is a pallid afterthought. Not here. Eos serves a demitasse of fresh brewed dark, thick and sweet Greek coffee (don't call it Turkish!), whose finely ground grains have settled to the bottom of the cup.
When we finish, our waiter turns the cup upside down on the saucer. "Now wait." When he turns it back over, he shows us how his mother told fortunes from the patterns of coffee grains on the sides of the cup. I don't need a fortune teller to know I'll come back to Eos.