Truck drivers, artists, doctors, priests – Leloudas’ clientele couldn’t be more diverse. In this unassuming wine tavern, everyone gathers at the same tables, sharing not just food, but a slice of living Athenian history. If you’re lucky enough to find a seat, sit back, listen closely, and let the hum of conversation wash over you. Snippets of stories, laughter, and debate float through the air as you wait for the house specialty to arrive at the table: golden, crisp fried cod, paired with that legendary, explosive garlic dip.

There are places you visit mostly for the atmosphere, their charm making up for any culinary shortcomings. And then there are others you return to purely for the food. This historic spot in Votanikos offers both in generous measure.

Tucked away behind the clamor of Petrou Ralli Avenue, among warehouses and trucking depots, Leloudas has been operating modestly since 1928. It began as a humble grocery, serving up tins of food to nearby brick factory workers. One of those workers, Dimitrios Leloudas, a migrant from the island of Kythnos, eventually took over the store.

Over time, the cans gave way to meze and wine, and the place evolved into a full-fledged oinomageireio (wine tavern). Today, Dimitris – the third generation of the family – carries on the tradition. A trained oenologist, he crafts the retsina and wine that accompanies the tavern’s fare.

Simple Dishes, Masterfully Done

The food is as unfussy as it is unforgettable, made with quality ingredients and a seasoned hand. Beside the taverna’s trademark Icelandic fried cod with its fiery garlic dip, no meal feels complete without the homemade meatballs: tender, fragrant, made with freshly ground beef and plenty of herbs.

The menu – scrawled daily on a blackboard – often includes fasolada (bean soup), fava, stewed chickpeas with baked herring, or oven-baked giant beans, their edges slightly crisp and their seasoning bold. Depending on the day, you might also sample the taverna’s slow-cooked lamb in tomato sauce, rooster, beef tongue, spaghetti with minced meat just like grandma used to make, or classic vegetable ladera (vegetable-based dishes).

And then there’s the “poor man’s dish,” humble in name but rich in satisfaction: a mound of hand-cut fries smothered in minced meat and finished with a snowy sprinkle of sharp, dry mizithra cheese from Kalavryta.

The tavern’s mosaic floors and century-old barrels make the dining room feel like a time capsule. In the summer heat, most guests opt for the outdoor tables, shaded by beach umbrellas: the perfect setting for a long, leisurely lunch that stretches well into the afternoon.

This article originally appeared in Gastronomos.