Omada

Sometimes you don’t know what you’re missing until it’s right in front of you. In this case, that’s a Bloody Mary so ripe with fresh pulpy tomatoes, a crisp celery mohawk, and a twist of jalapeño, that it’s like a spicy, life-affirming backslap.

There’s no ignoring this new Greek bar and bistro in a towering heritage city building on the corner of Leigh and Currie Streets. You smell it before you see it, especially when Spit Roast Sunday brings Greek traditions streetside with lamb and octopus cooked kerbside over coals.

Inside, the atmosphere is similarly up-tempo; bear hugs and warm welcomes between friends. A cobalt door, blue as the Mediterranean Sea, leads the way through a bright, open-plan space designed by Studio Gram, who also applied aesthetic nous to owner Simon Kardachi’s Osteria Oggi, Fugazzi and Latteria. At Omada, they embraced a soothing, “less is more” Greek classicism aesthetic. The large dining room is bookended by an open-plan kitchen and a long, narrow marble bar which turns out to be a leading character in its own right.

But first, mezedes served yiayia-style on adorably pretty paper doilies. A white bread garfish sando is presented like soldiers; lightly crumbed, flash fried and cushioned between crunchy shards of lettuce, and tangy confit calamari and lemon mayonnaise.

The menu, inspired by head chef Andy Ferrara’s half-Greek heritage (the other half is Italian), has coal and fire at its heart. It’s all best shared. Hand-cut beef and avgolemono dolmades wrapped in cabbage rather than vine leaves for a more delicate flavour; ragù moussaka in warm terrine form, with a dramatic drizzle of bechamel from a small crystal jug; and a twirl of char-grilled Robe octopus topped with Greek salsa and house-made taramasalata charm. Cuts of meat, broken down onsite, are ever-changing. A lamb plate puts chops, ribs and sheftalia on a pedestal, while youvetsi hits Greek stew heights with tender chicken and ox-tail served on a bed of rich tomato and orzo pasta. If it’s too hard to decide, you can let the team feed you with Chora (the land), Thalassa (the sea) or the Symposion (the gathering) menus.

Either way, cocktails are a must. A seat at the bar is great if you can get it. There, Tommy Hoff (formerly of Fugazzi) chats as he guides house-made spirits such as ouzo, lychee vermouth and retsina into glasses. There’s a Greek twist to it all, from the refreshing House Spritz, to the Filthy Feta Martini made with feta brine (the whey from which is used in the baklava parfait dessert’s honey caramel).

As love letters to Dionysus go, this is enough to make the god of pleasure dizzy with delight.