• I went to Makris Athens, a Michelin-starred restaurant in the shadow of the Parthenon.
• Chef Petros Dimas' playful and imaginative dishes are a breath of fresh air in the world of fine dining.
• Dimas is committed to showcasing Greek ingredients and cuisine, and he delivers beautifully.

What dishes come to mind when you hear the words "Greek cuisine"? I bet I could guess.

A thick pita overflowing with gyro meat, fries poking out like spikes from glistening white tzatziki. Maybe a colorful horiatiki salad of cucumber, tomato, and red onion, topped with a thick square of feta. Or perhaps you have a sweet tooth and are fantasizing about baklava, with its flaky phyllo and glossy syrup.

As a proud Greek American, I grew up with (and love) all of the above. I also know there's so much more to Greek cuisine than the same few things.

So on a trip back to my parents' homeland, I decided to explore the world of Greek fine dining. I went to dinner at Makris Athens, a Michelin-starred restaurant that explores Greek gastronomy through the kind of wildly playful and imaginative dishes you'd expect to see on "Chef's Table."

It was a meal where nothing was as it seemed — and that was a good thing.

Makris Athens is steeped in Hellenic history.

Located in Athens' Thissio neighborhood, in the shadow of the Parthenon, the three-story restaurant is in a building that once housed the country's first inn. You can eat above its ancient ruins in Makris' private dining room, where the dinner table sits on a glass floor.

If the Acropolis is more your thing, the one-star Michelin restaurant also has a rooftop terrace with views of the famous Greek landmark.

Chef Petros Dimas wanted the restaurant's menu to illustrate the "depth and beauty" of Greek ingredients.

As a young boy, Dimas loved spending time in the kitchen with his mother and grandmother, watching them transform a few simple ingredients into "something beautiful and delicious," he told me. He quickly ditched his toys and started his own garden.

"I wanted to understand where food really came from," he said. "So, I started planting herbs and vegetables, just small things, but it felt magical to grow something with my own hands and then cook with it."

Dimas' parents still take care of the land where he first learned to grow ingredients, but now it's used as a small farm for Makris.

"They grow what's in season — tomatoes, zucchini flowers, herbs, figs. We talk almost every day about what's ready or what's coming next," Dimas said. "It's a beautiful circle. What started in my childhood now directly feeds my restaurant."

My dinner at Makris Athens began on the rooftop.

Not every seat on the roof has a direct view of the Acropolis, and I spotted a few couples trying to negotiate a different table with the staff throughout my two-hour dinner.

I was happy to just enjoy dinner under the sky, but if the view is important to you or you're coming for a special occasion, I'd recommend calling the restaurant ahead of time to secure a prime table.

We ordered cocktails while perusing the different menu options.

A server came by to deliver what, at first, appeared to be small mints. As they poured hot water from a tea kettle onto them, the tiny circles began to bloom like flowers. Our server revealed that these were aromatic napkins, infused with lemongrass.

Delighted and refreshed — summer in Athens is always a little sticky —my fiancé Peter and I began to look at the menu.

Makris Athens has three tasting menus — Genesis (125 euros, or about $146), Utopia (175 euros, or about $204), and the meat-free Physis Vegan (135 euros, or about $157) — as well as the option to order dishes à la carte. Business Insider received a media rate for the meal.

We opted for the eight-course Genesis menu, which Dimas told me "represents beginnings — the roots, the land, the first spark of flavor and life." The Utopia menu explores "dreams and evolution, where creativity takes over, and we explore what's possible."

"Together they tell a story of creation, growth, and imagination. It's almost like a journey from earth to sky," he added.

Our tasting menu began with an amuse-bouche inspired by Dimas' childhood.

The bright-red bite resembled a peony, but our server revealed it was actually a truffle-topped pancake with flavors of cheese and oak honey. It paid homage to a dish that Dimas used to eat with his grandma.

"My childhood memories are always in the background of what I do," Dimas told me. "The smells, the tastes, the feelings of those days — they all come back when I cook."

"With Makris Athens, I wanted to tell a story of returning home, but through a new lens," he added. "It's about rediscovering Greek nature and childhood simplicity, but with the creativity and precision I've learned over the years."

Then came a dish bursting with colorful flowers, with small bites hidden beneath the petals.

Concealed among the yellow, lilac, and white chrysanthemum daisies were mushroom and venison tartlets. The skinny branch shooting past the flowers was made of mushroom scraps.

Dimas told me he frequently tries to capture the garden of his youth through his cooking.

"It's full of memories," he said. "The smell of the soil, the sound of bees, everything."

My favorite dish of the night was the third course, a mushroom soup disguised as a cappuccino.

I've always believed that the best fine dining is about surprise and delight, and the cappuccino course at Makris Athens easily accomplishes both.

Our server dropped off two mugs with an inviting bubble of foam filled to each brim, instantly bringing us back to the morning cappuccinos we had been drinking in Florence, Italy, just a week prior. When he revealed that mushroom soup was waiting inside each cup, our mouths dropped in happy shock.

"Mushrooms remind me of foraging trips in the mountains with my father," Dimas later told me. "The foam on top is made from milk infused with truffle and mushroom, to mimic the look of coffee but taste completely different."

The soup tasted rich and deep, each sip full of umami thanks to the truffle shavings. The accompanying brioche feuilletee pastry was crunchy and airy, the perfect balance of texture and flavor.

The scallop course was another standout.

Our fourth course was a scallop swimming in an incredible sauce of pumpkin and lime. The combination was unexpected but extremely delicious, with the lime adding a zing of acidity that balanced the sweetness of the pumpkin and scallop.

"I want to bottle it up," Peter said as we tried to capture every last drop.

Our bread course came with a menu of olive oils to choose from.

I've never seen an olive oil menu at a restaurant before, and I thought it was a lovely way to show off the bounty of one of Greece's most famous ingredients.

Our server recommended Dr. Kavvadia — an olive oil from the island of Corfu — and poured it into a glass bowl decorated with leaves from Dimas' farm.

It paired beautifully with the warm sourdough bread, as did the butter plated to look like a flower.

The meat and fish courses were beautifully presented, although less memorable.

Dimas' dishes told a clear story throughout the first half of Genesis, showcasing his love for Greek ingredients in a playful way that felt refreshing in the space of fine dining.

Our seafood and meat courses — a supplemental red mullet cooked with its scales and a Hellenic pork iberico — were more traditional. They were cooked well and had a nice flavor, but were pretty forgettable. Both dishes are no longer on Makris' menu, which I think was the right decision.

The chocolate chessboard dessert was a return to playful form, and a magical way to end the meal.

After a refreshing palate cleanser of strawberry and balsamic vinegar sorbet, our server presented Makris Athens' signature dessert with theatrical flair.

The chessboard, which featured a chocolate rook and horse scattered among real pieces, unlocked my own childhood memory. My uncle had taught me how to play chess during my summers in Greece, and I often played matches with him and my dad. To see the board again on my first trip back in over a decade felt kismet.

Our night ended with one last illusion, gold coins made of chocolate. It was a delightful end to an even more delightful dinner.

Dimas is all too aware that Greek cuisine, beloved as it may be, is frequently underestimated.

"For a long time, Greek food wasn't seen as something that could stand behind the great cuisines of the world," he said. "But I've always believed in the depth and beauty of our ingredients and traditions."

That conviction shines brightly throughout Dimas' dishes, constantly tickling the imagination and taste buds. I felt a surge of pride as I ate his food, just as he did when Makris Athens received its first Michelin star in December 2024.

"Getting that recognition showed that Greek cuisine can be refined, creative, and world-class without losing its soul," he told me.

Makris Athens is full of soul, for sure, plus plenty of surprises and nostalgia. I think it's a worthy stop on your next trip to Athens — just get gyros for lunch.

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