Kentro is unlike any Greek restaurant I've ever been to: There are no Hellenic-styled fonts or idyllic pictures of seaside Santorini. Walking in, you'd swear it was a newfangled yuppie gastropub or some sort of uppity wine bar. If it weren't for the small vestibule stocked with Greek goods and candy bars, the place could pass for an extra-sleek Corner Bakery. It's a sit-yourself establishment, with silverware stored in tableside caddies and tap water offered in bottles. Orders are placed and paid for at the counter. An immense blackboard on a wall is crammed with multisyllabic words you've no hope of pronouncing properly, such as melitzanosalata, a dip with the same DNA as babaganoush that takes all that's good and sweet about an eggplant and concentrates it in a warm, garlic-intoned mush dribbled with extra-virgin olive oil and a smattering of parsley. When you take your numbered placard to scope out a table, you might just find that one of its clean-cut servers is already holding the dip you ordered, ready to serve it to you even before you've... More >>>