There are a few things I remember very clearly from my last meal in Thessaloniki. I picked Glykanisos, a small restaurant that sits on the side of one of the mountains that gently rolls into downtown and eventually the sea, in a little town called Pylaia that is only accessible by one bus—and even then, you have to walk along a dimly lit residential street until you run into it. My friend Katy and I ordered much more food than we ever normally would have eaten (maybe). The squid was, as always, perfect, stuffed with molten feta and tomato. But then, after at least 10 visits spread over eight months, the free dessert had changed.