Conscious Choice: How Aphrodite Found Consolation at Artopolis

June 2002 | Conscious Dining

How Aphrodite Found Consolation at Artopolis

by Ethel Hammer and Stephen Kleiman

It’s easy to schmooze to your heart’s content at Artopolis Bakery, Cafe and Agora — a rollicking Greek Town establishment where the friendliness is contagious. Toasts soar above sparkling glasses of wine. Olives glitter on plates. We fell into a blaze of bouzouki music watching couples scoop up appetizers on crusty bread. A dapper TV anchorman yakked to a guy in a rumpled suit. Families topped off sandwiches and roasted lamb dinners with home-baked Greek cookies. Meanwhile, Steve Alexander — a charming perpetual motion machine of a host — circulated among the crowds as merrily as the ceiling fans whirled overhead.

Artopolis invites you into the flow. Its crafty layout spins you out from its indoor mock agora (or marketplace), tempting you into its bakeshop with its crusty breads and luscious cakes...luring you into its gift shop with its gourmet foods, wines, incense holders, festive baskets, and crafty knickknacks. But most of all, this is a place to dine and drink, to kick back and discuss the nature of the universe, or at least your part in it.

Sitting down, we ordered the Mediterranean Feast appetizer platter, and the culinary joy commenced. Marvelous house-baked sourdough and poppyseed bread served as scoops for tasty Hummus (chickpea mash), yummy Baba-Ghanoush (eggplant purée), succulent Fava purée, cooling Tzatziki (yogurt cucumber salad), and a merry Tabouleh ashimmer with green and red peppers, tomatoes and cucumbers, mint and garlic. Kalamata olives — gift of Athena, Greek goddess of wisdom — quivered atop this succulence.

By this point we were so happy, we swore we heard Athena brush past our table and say, "I gave you olives and wisdom. Use them for pleasure and survival, my friends."

A little shocked, we ordered the Frutti de Mare, a marvelously fresh (and exceedingly chewy) mountain of calamari, octopus, and rock shrimp. We swam in a tumble of seafood, asplash with olive oil, lemon, and garlic and tossed with salad, herbed feta, and veggies. Once again our pleasure was so extreme that we thought we heard Poseidon, god of the sea, boom into our ears: "Enjoy the fruits of the oceans. And treasure them."

By this point, our tastebuds were so psyched, we ordered the Baked Salmon Special and savored a tasty morsel adorned with fried leeks and a sparkle of red and green roasted peppers, yellow squash, and green zucchini.

"This salmon turns me on," someone said. What a shock. Aphrodite, goddess of love, gazed down upon us, a haze in her eyes.

"Do you eat it here often?" we asked in confusion.

"No. Salmon is Artopolis’s Friday special. You know, dearie. Too much of anything dulls the senses." With that, she spoke of the importance of pleasure’s diversions. We smiled as we noted Artopolis’s ten wood-fired pizzas, eleven signature sandwiches, four regionally inspired entrées including Chicken Riganati and Roasted Lamb, not to mention appetizers, salads, soups, and rotating specials such as Eggplant Moussaka and Stuffed Calamari.

"Greek love is so daring," we sighed, remembering our own abandon on the Plaka, where Stephen pretended to be Zorba in his nightie and I did a rumba in bare feet. Meanwhile, Aphrodite sat down at our table, picked up a fork, and declared Artopolis’s Rosemary Potatoes "more full-bodied and zesty than Apollo, Hermes, and Zeus put together."

Then a fat man with the horns and hoofs of a goat sidled over to our table, hopping from foot to foot. It was Pan, player of pipes and god of the flocks. What a chance meeting of the greats! "I offer you a Portabello Mushroom and Emmenthal Artopita in homage to your beauty," he said, placing a flaky mini-pie on the table before us.

"What a place," we said. "Even the Greek gods eat here." Amused by the politeness of this scruffy gent, we cut the pie open and lost ourselves amidst delightfully gooey emmenthal cheese, Portabella mushrooms, red peppers, and roasted garlic. "Delicious for a quickie (lunch)," Pan smiled, leering at Aphrodite, who flicked him off.

Whereupon we ordered delicious Greek coffees and contemplated dessert — perhaps yogurt drizzled with honey or pretty mini cakes — when Aphrodite cried, "I crave Galactoboureco."

"I love it, too," Stephen said, referring to this sumptuous custard cradled in phyllo. We fell into bliss. (Artopolis makes a great one swimming in almonds and honey.) But Aphrodite only eyed us with sadness. "Desserts are more certain than my love life," she sighed.

Wishing to console her, we offered her a whole Fruit Tarte toppling with strawberries, kiwis, peaches, and fans of pears, purchased in the bakery. "Eat this to tide you over," we said.

But instead of devouring this gorgeous confection, Aphrodite threw it upward and outward toward Mount Olympus. (At least, that’s what we think she did since it’s hard to gauge the way to Mount Olympus from Halsted in Chicago.) Meanwhile, legend says a discus-throwing Greek tossed it back into her arms. Which only hints at how Aphrodite learned to console herself thanks to Artopolis.

Now, in conclusion, do the Ancients really socialize at Artopolis, where the food zings and the atmosphere sizzles? Who knows? Not necessarily. Why not? Meanwhile, back on earth, Aphrodite dissolved into a shimmer of light, leaving us one humongous strawberry dipped in chocolate.

Artopolis Bakery, Cafe, and Agora, 306 S. Halsted, Chicago, 312-509-9000. Open Monday through Thursday 9:00 am to midnight, Friday through Saturday 9:00 am to 1:00 am, Sunday 10:00 am to midnight. Prices: Appetizers, soups, and salads from $2.50 to $8.25; sandwiches, wood-fired pizzas, and artopitas from $4.25 to $9.95; entrées from $7.25 to $9.95; desserts from $2.75 to $4.25.

Stephen’s Five P’s:

Palatability: It is hard to find anything that doesn’t taste authentic and delicious. Everything is carefully prepared to highlight the succulent flavors.

Portion Size: Artopolis is unique in its vast range of portion sizes — from a meal made of an appetizer to one that seems like a royal feast — satisfying any hunger level. Ethnic flavors are never sacrificed for portion size.

Presentation: The exciting ambiance synergistically enhances the food’s vibrant colors, garnishes, and tastes, creating a sense of Greek authenticity.

Price: Artopolis offers exceptional value. A light lunch can be enjoyed for about $8 and a complete dinner for about $15.

Pleasure: Ethel and I always find wonderful new flavors and pleasures at Artopolis. On a scale of 1 (terrible) to 5 (incredible) I would rate Artopolis as a 4.25 for a most pleasurable dining experience.

Food critics Ethel Hammer and Stephen Kleiman wish to thank the Ancients for their inspiration.

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