But among them, Kaia stands out as the total package. The food here levels up, delicious, lovely to look at, and stimulating for both appetite and mind. It expands upon Greek cuisine, cleverly playing with tradition, updating it, but also keeping it pristine when the moment for that is right. Executive chef Felipe Gonçalves previously worked at Menton, and it shows. The finesse of fine dining is on the plate, as well as fun, creativity, risk, and respect.
An illustration in one dish: spanakopita, which Xenia culinary director Brendan Pelley has been serving in some form since launching Greek pop-up Pelekasis a decade ago. He grew up eating the dish at family dinners. It was on his menu when he was chef de cuisine at Michael Schlow’s Doretta Taverna, which started serving upscale Greek cuisine just a moment too soon. Now, at Kaia, there can be TikTok-trendy lines out front and the restaurant is always booked (make reservations). And here, still, is spanakopita.
Kaia takes the homey spinach and phyllo pie and turns it on its side, literally. It arrives a golden-brown rectangle, striations of green and yellow visible at the ends, all dressed up for a fancy dinner on top. It’s strewn with snipped herbs and pretty edible blossoms. The dish wraps eggs, leeks, and preserved black truffle into the mix. A bite is a journey, from crisp, shattering layers of dough to billowy, warm interior, almost like a quiche. It’s comfort food and eye candy at the same time.
I think of the spanakopita as the heart of a meal here, the anchor that supports a rotating cast of crudo, meze, and whole fish dishes. It is the only given. After that, it’s time to play.
There are snacks. Zucchini chips, slices in a crisp and puffy batter, are drizzled with garos (a fish sauce) caramel. Those dolmades, the foie gras-filled grape leaves with their anchovy saddles, are as close as Kaia gets to surf and turf. And they are as close to tradition as the spanakopita is. Have them with caviar, if you like.
Raw dishes rotate frequently. “Gifts of the sea” features three presentations: a daily crudo, a crab claw with petimezi (grape syrup) aioli, and an oyster with charred cucumber toursi (pickle), tapioca, and dill. (Shoutout to the dining companion who arrived with a glossary of Greek food terms he had created and printed out.) These bites are lovely but so small they leave one wanting more; the larger crudo dishes are more satisfying, from langoustine with fermented honeydew, coriander oil, stone fruit, and puffed rice to tuna with heirloom tomatoes and berries. These dishes are of-the-season, and if you miss one iteration, well, there’s the next one to look forward to.
Meze, too, change and change again. Change is good (even if I still miss the velvety sea urchin terrine, which reminded me of Japanese ankimo, monkfish liver, in its preparation). Grilled octopus was glazed in staka (Greek butter), sprinkled with savory, crunchy bits like an everything bagel, and served with avocado pistou; it was impossibly tender. Now it comes with artichokes, fava beans, and dill. Hilopites, wide, ribbony noodles, came with brown butter-poached lobster and a lobster-infused sauce spiked with Greek brandy, its richness complemented by the brine of pickled sea beans and seaweed butter. Now the menu features beet, lemon, and lovage hilopites with peas and a smoky crema made from kefalotyri cheese.
Souvlaki at Kaia can be anything skewered and grilled. I loved the innovation of this dish made with lion’s mane mushrooms and sunchokes over puffed wild rice. It was such a textural collage (on one occasion, in a bad way, with undercooked and gritty sunchokes). The current version features skewered broad beans in their pod with lemon skordalia, a much lighter take for summer (and the GLP-1 crowd). The steamy season brought with it bright dishes that offer flavor without weighing diners down, such as assorted local cucumbers with tomato gelee. Kaia’s elegant pile of seasonal lettuces with pine nut crisps, kefalotyri cheese, and a buttery vinaigrette is one of the best green salads I’ve had in a long time.
The flip side of that is the lamb neck gyro, a menu constant, unctuous, crisp-edged bites of meat with zucchini pita (cleverly scallion pancake-reminiscent), pickles, sunflower yogurt, and mint jam. I love lamb and will order it at any opportunity; for me, this dish is too heavy, too oily. Whole grilled fish is the opposite, finished with orange blossom honey and a snipped bouquet of herbs, lemony ladolemono sauce poured tableside. It’s a lovely dish and a lovely presentation.
(Note that our lavraki, Mediterranean sea bass, comes with a market price of $100, the only thing rich about it. This is one of two warnings I have about Kaia. The other is that I find the dining room layout a bit awkward, with the sun somehow always shining in my eyes. Eat later, you say? That’s when the music CRANKS UP SO LOUD, which feels inconsonant with the rest of the package here. To avoid these issues, book on the earlier side in the more convivial, more comfortable bar and lounge.)
Desserts here are wonderful: pagoto, goat’s milk gelato served with seasonal fruit spoon sweets; a dense, moist coconut cake called ravani with plums and Greek yogurt; matcha baklava. But it is the Aegean “kormos,” a riff on a traditional chocolate dessert, that I can’t get enough of. It features semifreddo flavored with juniper and honey, a spill of icy, mountain tea granita, and a crunchy topping of pine nut praline. It is creamy, cooling, sweet, and herbal all at once.
Cocktails are excellent and innovative, incorporating ingredients like the chickpea liquid aquafaba, marigold, mastic. I’m not usually an espresso martini person, but the Chicory & Cardamom, a take on a Greek frappé made with Metaxa brandy, turned my head. The list of Greek wines, as at all Xenia restaurants, is thrilling; ask for guidance through its riches and you will be rewarded. Your gracious server will soon be offering toasts of “ya mas!” with the rest of your table, after teaching everyone how to say “cheers!” in Greek.
As is always the case at restaurants, it is the people who make the experience memorable. At Kaia, the food matches the hospitality.
KAIA ★★★★★
370 Harrison Ave., South End, Boston, 617-514-0700, www.kaiasouthend.com.
Wheelchair accessible
Prices Small plates $18-$38. Large plates and whole fish $74 and up. Desserts $8-$16. Cocktails $14-$18.
Hours Daily 5-11 p.m. (Bar until 1 a.m.; patio seating Wed-Sun.)
Noise level Fine on the early side; extremely loud later.
★★★★★ Extraordinary | ★★★★ Excellent | ★★★ Very good | ★★ Good | ★ Fair | (No stars) Poor
Devra First can be reached at devra.first@globe.com. Follow her on Instagram @devrafirst.
