What's Hot'n Not Niko's Greek Taverna By: Sharon Kennedy Published: June 22, 2006 First, thank you readers, for the wonderful e-mails over the past two weeks. I've fallen a tad behind in my responses as I just got back from the vacation of a lifetime, doing port calls in Turkey, Malta, Italy, Monaco, France, Spain, Portugal and England (!). Fifteen days at sea and it went by too fast. My ship set sail from Piraeus, Greece, and having used every single vacation day to make this trip happen, I had to shuttle straight from the airport to the docks--not a minute to spare to sample Greek life. I couldn't be sad too long, however, if I thought about the adventures that lay ahead of me, but I did feel a pang of regret when, on my way to the ship, I spotted the Acropolis looking very miniscule and unattainable in the far, far distance. I comforted myself knowing that before I left New York, I managed to fit in one truly memorable Greek dining experience. Yes, my friends. That was just my segue to Niko's Greek Taverna (287 Central Ave.). I first set eyes on this little gem of a restaurant after picking up some of my newest addiction, pistachio Turkish Delight, from Yaranush Mediterranean Foods. On my way back, I noticed men to my right busily arranging Niko's patio area for outdoor dining. It looked so bright and cheerful, it was all the invitation I needed for an early dinner. Inside, I was led to a comfortable table for two in the corner of the restaurant, sun streaming through white curtains, men's voices talking animatedly outside as the patio began to resemble a dining area. White Doric columns and dark wooden rafters support high ceilings, and framed photos of Greek sunsets, white rocky cliffs, and the blue rounded domes of Santorini align the walls. Before I could say "Opa," I was snacking on freshly baked pita bread, slightly crunchy on the ends, giving it that just-out-of-the-oven taste. Over the pleasant blend of bouzouki and baglama music, I heard two women sitting across the room remarking on the pita. "It's almost like thin-crust pizza-- it's delicious-- try it, it's really very good," the woman beseeched her companion, even though her friend was already chewing and nodding in vigorous agreement. Niko's lists some impressive appetizers, all of which warrant a future visit: grilled octopus, flamed Greek cheese, fresh dandelions in olive oil and lemon, Greek caviar dip. I took my waitress' recommendation however, and started with the dolmadakia, or stuffed grape leaves with tsatsiki sauce ($5.75). The tsatsiki, a yogurt, cucumber and garlic dip, arrived with an olive perched on top, and-- just in time-- more pita bread. The grape leaves were refreshing, light, and perfect for a warm day. On my table, a slender, dark green bottle of Kritiko Latzimas extra virgin olive oil rested on a blue and white map of Greece. Here's a little secret about olive oil, which I learned on my shuttle-ride to Piraeus: Pointing to the olive groves on our right, our driver explained that a large portion of Greece's olive oil is exported to Italy, where an Italian label is then merely slapped on. "Presto! Italian olive oil!" he told us. I used a little of the oil to down the remaining pita before turning my attention to the entrees. You can get what sounded like an amazing char-grilled whole striped bass or red snapper, among other enticing dishes, but I opted for the simple yet satisfying Greek sandwich ($6.00), served with pork, chicken or gyro meat, tomato, onion, more tsatsiki, and wrapped in... more pita. Putting such tender, meaty lamb into the aforementioned pita bread extraordinaire was a meal for the gods. Even the fries, sprinkled with oregano, tasted a little extra special. As I lathered more tsatsiki on to my sandwich, it dawned on me that I was probably on my seventh slice of pita. I shrugged. On to dessert. I navigated the menu, pausing to consider the Greek yogurt topped with crushed walnuts and honey, galaktobouriko (a custard baked in filo), and homemade rice pudding. My waitress proved helpful yet again, pointing out the karidopita ($4.75), a walnut cake. "It's very moist and in a light syrup," she suggested. Served warm, the cake was sweet, sticky and the perfect end to my meal. Outside, I didn't get very far before a pleasant gentleman named Bill, still busy arranging the outdoor seating, led me back inside to meet Niko, his son. We passed fresh basil growing by the entrance, momentarily glanced at the soccer game playing on a flat screen over the bar, and stood near the phone where a man recited the day's specials (Niko's delivers). A young handsome man with dark hair and olive skin emerged from the kitchen. Niko. He extended his hand and I told him how much I had enjoyed my meal. He smiled, "Mom's cooking," he said proudly. "She supervises everything. It's the food we grew up on." (His family hails from Peloponnese, Greece-- Tripoli, specifically). With his aunt in charge of desserts, the restaurant is genuinely a family affair. I grasped my leftovers tightly, appreciating all the care that had gone into my meal. Thinking back, I can't wait to properly visit Greece. My journey from airport to ship was a whirlwind and a bit surreal. But until then, I know where to get a true taste of the country I missed right here in White Plains. E-mail skennedy@wptimes.com