I’ve lived in Athens for eight years, but I sometimes wonder how much truly “Athenian” food I eat. Two dishes synonymous with the city are moussaka and pastitsio, yet the versions popular today entered the repertoire just a century ago, when Greece’s first food writer, Nikolaos Tselementes, published his landmark Odigos Mageirikis (Cooking Guide). 

Defining Athenian cuisine is tricky: The city has long been a melting pot, and unlike other regions or islands, it never developed a tightly codified food culture of its own. Few dishes are irrefutably Athenian—apart, perhaps, from the curious Athinaïki salata, a mayonnaise-and-fish concoction devised to disguise leftovers. Still, a vibrant, distinctive local food culture exists in its waste-not philosophy from times when meat was scarce, its reliance on seasonal produce from neighborhood markets, and its ingredients and techniques that hark back to the Ottoman era.

So instead of chasing something that isn’t there, I’ve thought about what actually draws me to the table here—and has me going back for seconds. When I’m away, I miss the way a squeeze of lemon cuts the fat on a plate of slender lamb chops. I crave vegetables prepared with almost no fuss, and the playful audacity that leads Greeks to fry lamb testicles. And I always look forward to clinking little glasses of raki during a long Sunday lunch, waiting for the next round of small plates to arrive. 

This guide moves from the heart of Athens to its fringes (and even out toward the sea), stopping at hole-in-the-wall street food stands, underground tavernas, a wine bar tucked inside a ship repair warehouse, and institutions that have fed Athenians and visitors for generations. The beauty of eating here is that, like the table itself, the culture practically demands you sample a little of everything.

Sokratous 9 and Theatrou 2
+30 21 0321 1463

Diporto has no menu—dishes are read out by the curmudgeonly but beloved proprietor Dimitris Koliolios. Yet one dish graces almost every table: chickpeas stewed with onion, garlic, thyme, and rosemary. To Greeks, it tastes like home—especially when paired with a wedge of feta still dripping with brine. There’s no sign pointing the way to this cellar tavern that’s largely unchanged for 130 years, so you’ll have to follow your nose and the sound of live music to find it.       

Leonidou 87
+30 21 0347 6926

Athenians have been legume lovers since antiquity, and beans and pulses remain a fixture on meze menus the city over as a healthier, more affordable alternative to meat. Mavromatika, or black-eyed peas, are especially common, often tucked into small side salads. My favorite place to enjoy them is Louis Cafe, where they’re tossed with parsley, onion, and red peppers—ideal for nibbling while people-watching and soaking up the live jazz that gives this new-school kafeneio, or café, its charm.

Argous 66
+30 21 0512 7506

Another famous pulse becomes another famous Greek starter: fava—which, despite the name, isn’t made from fava beans but from yellow split peas. The peas are puréed into a thick, earthy spread, usually drizzled with plenty of olive oil and topped with capers and thinly sliced raw onion. The onion’s bite and the capers’ briny sharpness balance the richness of the purée. Fava is found all over the Cycladic islands, but it’s most closely associated with Santorini. For a perfect rendition, head to this taverna, which plates the fava with another Santorini classic: homemade tomato paste. To complete the island experience, grab a table in the garden, or sit inside to admire their take on traditional décor, with wine barrels and a mural of a Greek village along the back wall.

Ntourm 1
+30 21 1414 8624

This is one of many Greek dishes called a “salad” that’s actually a dip. At its base is tarama—cod roe with a deep, salty sea flavor—which gets blended with bread or potatoes. A Lenten staple, taramosalata appears on menus across Athens, but the version at Fita stands out for its light, fluffy texture and strong (but not overwhelming) fishy flavor. I like that it comes with housemade potato chips—the perfect vehicle for this creamy treat. Fita was one of Athens’ first new-style tavernas, housed in a warehouse and furnished with old-school tables and chairs. Once you’ve mopped up the last of the taramosalata, spring for grilled seafood, like langoustines or octopus, from their always-changing list of main dishes. 

Adrianiou 31
+30 21 0674 6661

Spring in Athens is all about artichokes, and Xoxlidaki’s stand out for their simplicity: marinated in vinegar, drizzled with lemon, and finished with a sprig or two of dill. At classic meze joints, they’re often displayed on a tray among the day’s specials, lowered gracefully to your table by the server. At Xoxlidaki, the move is to pair them with one of the 250 bottles of ouzo lining the walls. Besides the standard bottles from Lesvos, which are said to be the best, they have bottles from Thrace and other northern Greek cities, including Serres, Thessaloniki, the Ionian islands, the Cyclades, and beyond.

Pisistratou 11, Kallithea
+30 21 0942 2684

Kakavia, or fish soup, once fueled Greece’s fishermen, who would cook whatever they didn’t sell right on their boats. Like many traditional dishes, it varies by region, but nearly any fish or seafood can form its base, with seasonal vegetables tossed in along with plenty of olive oil and a squeeze of lemon. One of my favorites is at Pezoulas, a fish tavern once popular with performers and musicians that opened in the 1950s, with a tranquil outdoor patio reminiscent of a plateia on a Greek island. They serve a kakavia that’s still made the way the first generation made it, featuring particularly bony fish that impart the most flavor when cooked. The fish are boiled whole with herbs and vegetables like potatoes, celery, and carrots, and once it’s soft enough, you take the fish out of the water to clean it and remove the bones. The stock becomes the base of the soup, along with puréed vegetables and chunks of meaty fish. 

Vinkelman 3
+30 21 0701 7404

Marathonitis is technically in downtown Athens, but it feels worlds away. It’s a koutouki, a genre of restaurant with a limited menu, live music, and walls lined with barrels of homemade wine. Here, as in many koutoukia, the dish to order is the Athenian lamb chops, grilled on a wood or charcoal fire. They always come served with a lemon wedge or two, and while I enjoy them simply with a drizzle of lemon juice, it’s not unusual to dollop them with tzatziki or yogurt. They’re long and slender, with just a bite or two of juicy meat at the base, and you order them by the kilo. To enjoy lamb chops like a local, get your hands a little dirty (no utensils, please) and make sure to bite off the thin strip of meat that attaches to the bone from top to bottom—one of my favorite bits.

Aristidou 62, Kallithea
+30 21 0951 0134

The tradition of eating ameletita—literally “unmentionable,” though sometimes called “white caviar”—goes back to Byzantium, when the cut was prized for its aphrodisiac powers. Though few Athenians consume lamb testicles today, you can still find them at a handful of tavernas, where they’re often fried and lightly seasoned with oregano. They have a light taste no funkier than liver, and they’re crispy on the outside and tender on the inside. One such place is O Mitos, a Cretan spot where you’re handed a paper menu and pencil. Flip to the back pages for the offal cuts, then bask in the staff’s admiration when you bravely place your order.

Filopimenos 4
+30 21 0324 0773

Patsas is arguably one of Greece’s most polarizing dishes. It has a strong umami taste and an even stronger aroma, yet many Greeks hold a nostalgic fondness for it, remembering family meals around Easter or Christmas. The soup is packed with beef, pork, or lamb tripe—so don’t skip the lemon to cut the pungent flavors, especially if it’s your first time. Patsas is a local hangover remedy; most magereia—tavernas where the philosophy of sharing food was more important than any fancy methods or ingredients—serve it late, catering both to night owls and early-shift workers. The most famous spot to try it is Epirus, one of the last remaining magereia in the vast Varvakeios Agora market. This soup is admittedly an acquired taste, but Epirus provides vinegar and chile flakes (a rarity in spice-averse Athens!) to up the appeal and bring out the deep, meaty flavors.

Satovriandou 20
+30 21 0522 5676

Souvlaki—meat grilled on a skewer—is Greece’s quintessential street food, with roots as far back as 1700 B.C.E., when archaeologists at Santorini’s Akrotiri settlement uncovered evidence of a similar preparation. Even then, it was a cheap, portable meal—and that spirit endures today. One of the city’s most memorable versions comes from an institution near Omonia Square that’s been serving skewers since 1951. While most souvlaki stands stick to pork or chicken, Lefteris does things differently: beef, hand-shaped around the skewer into a long tube, served only with onions, tomato, and parsley. (Don’t even think about asking for fries or tzatziki.) The staff is brisk, used to locals ordering with a shorthand as precise as Philly cheesesteak lingo, and the souvlaki itself is unlike anywhere else in Athens—simple, spicy, smoky, and closer to kebab than the standard style. The beef is never dry, and though there’s no sauce, the tomatoes provide enough juice to drip through the folds of the paper-wrapped pita.

Karori 23 and Agathonos 1
+30 21 3031 8060

Syrupy sweets gleam in the windows of dessert shops around Athens, but skip the tourist-magnet displays and go to Feyrouz. There, you’ll get a taste of the culinary traditions that came to Greece with the Ottomans—and some of the city’s best sweets. Andreas Kiltsiksis is the chef, but the real force behind the place is his mother, Eleni, who brought her family recipes from Antakya, Turkey, to Athens. Her kunefe features fresh kadaif, made by lightly frying a thin batter in thin noodle-like strands. It is piled like a crunchy cloud atop fresh Cretan mizithra cheese and a mix of sheep and goat graviera, a hard yellow cheese from the Peloponnese, and drizzled with local honey syrup. The kadaif crunches into the bottom layers once you dig your spoon in, and the honey highlights the sweet, buttery flavors of the cheeses. 

Polidefkous 39, Piraeus
+30 21 0412 5204

Greek cheeses are as diverse as the islands themselves. Each region has its own method of aging, and the animals’ grazing habits lend distinctive flavors and textures. At Paleo Wine Bar in Piraeus, on the city’s southern edge, you might find graviera from Paros, thyme-scented graviera from Crete, tangy cow’s milk tyraki from Tinos, smoky PDO Metsovone from Metsovo, or the traditional volaki of Andros—perfect with a glass of raki or tsipouro. The selection shifts with availability but always draws from across the country. Housed in a former fisherman’s warehouse, its soaring ceilings once designed for boat repair, Paleo is the spot to linger over a simple cheese plate and a bottle from its extensive Greek wine cellar.

Athinon 36, Kalivia Thorikou
+30 22 9904 8540

Kalivia, about an hour outside Athens, is near some of my favorite beaches along the Attica coastline, like Chamolia and Vravrona. When I come here, I skip the post-beach fish and go straight for a meaty dinner. Many locals flock to The Triangle for the steaks—one of the few places in Attica that nails a proper medium-rare—but I head for the kokoretsi: long skewers of organ meats wrapped in intestines, seasoned with lemon juice, olive oil, salt, and pepper. The exterior crisps over the fire while the inside remains soft and flavorful. Owner Konstantinos Karakasilis, who once ran his own butcher shop, hand-selects every cut, relying on relationships built over 30 years. The origins of this dish, like many in Greece, are debated—a similar preparation appears in Homer’s epics, though in recent years, Turkey has claimed it as their own, calling it kokoreç.