Volos
133 Richmond St. W. | 416.861.1211 | volos.ca
I admit my exposure to Greek food has been limited to the taverna style offerings on the Danforth. Meat on a stick. Garlicky boulders of potato. Severed wedges of iceberg lettuce. Had I been introduced to Volos earlier in my life, I would have dispensed with the Danforth altogether and instead cozied up to my Greek friends, imploring them to bring me home with them, that I might finagle a dinner invitation.
Until this past summer, Volos was Mediterra, an unassuming seafood restaurant occupying the southwest corner of Richmond and York like a nondescript concrete bunker. It, and its sister restaurant Little Anthony’s, both recently passed into the hands of the next generation, and both have undergone renovations with makeover results supermodels would kill for.
The formerly dim interior of subdued pastels has been transformed into a large modern rectangle of light more appealing to a sophisticated Bay Street crowd. There are still touches of the Mediterranean artfully placed about — some large amphorae in the corners, a striking sculpture/light fixture of green glass buoys — to evoke Greek. The atmosphere is open and airy, and it’s possible to have a conversation without having to shout, or be wary that you might inadvertently disclose your case to opposing counsel (“You’re kidding?! THREE previously unknown offshore accounts in the wife’s name?”)
The service is excellent, from the greeting at the entrance to the pleasant but unobtrusive tableside service. Both times I was there, however, my party was invited (several times) to sit at the bar and order drinks. We were on time and there was no need to wait, so I can only assume Volos either has some difficulty getting existing diners out the door, or this is a transparent attempt to boost alcohol revenue.
Once seated, the water, bread and menu arrive instantly. The menu looks a bit like a Scrabble board, with words that run heavily to Zs, Xs and Ks. There are plain language descriptions for the less worldly (myself included) and our server patiently corrects my pronunciation until I can passably order the soutzoukakia, meatballs in a cinnamon and cumin tomato sauce ($11). Volos has a large selection of appetizers and after some hemming and hawing, I add the sesame crusted feta ($13). I’m a bit leery of this choice, wondering if this is going to be a Greek version of deep-fried mozzarella sticks. No worries there — these are an elegant presentation of honey-brown sesame seed-crusted fingers of light feta, drizzled with orange-infused honey. They are at once briny and sweet and savoury with no one flavour overpowering the other. I want more.
When the meatballs arrive, I’m a bit taken aback, expecting…well, balls. Like soccer balls. What arrives are footballs. Then it dawns on me. These are old-school handmade meatballs, in the same elongated shape your childhood attempts to roll Play-Doh produced. The meat footballs are smothered in a vibrant, zesty tomato sauce that tastes like real tomatoes and the seasoning in the meatballs is absolutely stand out.
For a main, I try exohico ($23). This is braised lamb in its jus mixed with spinach, feta and kefalotyri, a traditional Greek hard cheese that has a mild, salty flavour. Somehow, the talent in the kitchen manages to keep the phyllo crispy and brittle while it coddles the meat, a phyllo feat I’ve always been unable to master. The texture and flavour of this dish convinces me this is a better (though less entertaining) use of kefalotyri than setting it alight and shouting “Opa!”
My dining companion orders grilled calamari ($15), a risky dish that most often results in something that in both taste and texture, resembles a Goodyear All-Season tire in a puddle of vinaigrette. Once again, I am pleasantly surprised – the calamari is tender! And flavourful, with an enticing smokiness.
The wine list is predominantly Greek, which will horrify some oenophiles as Greek wines are regarded with about as much enthusiasm as bankers regard the drachma. This may be because most first encounters with Greek wine are encounters with retsina, a wine that tastes like a cocktail of turpentine, Pine-sol and petrol. The Greeks do make good wines that pair beautifully with the uncompromised flavour of Volos’ food. If you are unfamiliar with Greek offerings, best to rely on your server. Both times I visit, the server unhesitatingly recommends wines that are luscious companions to the dishes I select.
The dessert selection is varied and runs the gamut from simple metaxa figs (brandy-macerated Moroccan figs with ice cream) to traditional baklava, a sticky, honey-sweetened phyllo pastry with walnuts and pistachios (all $9). My dining companion opts for the cloister coffee (benedictine and frangelico) and we decide to split the chocolate mousse with ouzo chantilly. The mousse is dense and rich but, regrettably, served in a martini glass reminiscent of 90s suburban roadhouse food. More kitschy than elegant.
Volos has vegetarian offerings, but this menu is weighted toward meat and fish (though it does boast it is pork free). Volos is a sophisticated alternative to the ubiquitous Italian offerings in the downtown core and its take on Mediterranean cuisine is rich and subtle. No fear you’ll exude garlic for the next three days and alienate your client.
Judge Foodie’s verdict:
Highs: Pure, well balanced flavours, interesting wines, lots of space, something other than Italian
Lows: The tendency to place guests in a holding pen upon entrance
Kirsten Thompson is a Toronto-based research lawyer and commercial litigator. Since her call to the bar in 2000, she estimates that her restaurant to courtroom ratio has been approximately 14:1. Thoughts? Comments? Ideas for a review? Email her.
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