Discover the Greek restaurant in SP where breaking dishes is fun for customers

The tiny Prato Grego, a restaurant hidden in a labyrinthine gallery in Bom Retiro, would go unnoticed if it weren’t for the crash of plates breaking or the countless videos of the shattered objects posted on the restaurant’s social media.

There, in downtown São Paulo, it’s almost mandatory to witness the crash of white plates — and participate in it. The objects are made of plaster, not crockery, produced precisely to be thrown by customers, who pay nothing for the experience on the first visit, but then have to pay R$9.

The owner, Stelios Moyssiadis, is the son of a Greek and a gaucho. Born and raised in Bom Retiro, he only traveled to Greece once, when he was still a child, but he cultivates his Hellenic side in living with the neighborhood’s immigrant community. That’s how, in July 2020, the restaurant was born.

The hall would easily pass for the headquarters of a fan club in the European country. It’s filled with themed objects, photos of friends and family, classic columns, busts of illustrious Greeks, backgammon boards, flags and stacks of CDs and vinyl records featuring Mediterranean hits.

The menu is small and has the appearance of a pe-efe: the size of hunger and pocket. It hardly resembles other Greek restaurants in the city, even the very traditional neighborhood neighbor, Acropolis, since it does not serve or plans to serve seafood.

But it doesn’t lose out, because it has no frills. For starters, the good Greek salad (R$25) has olives, tomatoes, raw onions, cucumbers and the star: feta cheese.

The lined in the stomach is covered by the mossacá, the Greek eggplant lasagna with ground beef au gratin and béchamel, which costs R$39.

The flagship of the house, the souvlaki (R$25), is a kind of kebab with homemade pita and fries. The highlight is the yogurt, also made in-house, which fills the three possible versions of the sandwich – chicken, pork or falafel. But the recipe also serves as a dessert, with honey and walnuts (R$12), which competes on equal terms with any sweetened cake.

The company here is coffee made in the briki, the typical copper pot, with very fine powder and without straining. The order costs R$10. Those willing to take on a challenge can order the frappe (R$10), a foamy and iced version.

The main course literally comes after the meal — that’s when people smash plaster plates.

It all started with the production of Greek feasts for members of the association of merchants in the center, in 2016. As a traditional Greek feast cannot miss the breaking of dishes, the tradition was maintained, but with normal ceramic dishes.

According to the guide “Essential Greek Handbook”, the tradition was banned during the Greek military regime in the 1960s, and lost its vigor. But in Bom Retiro she lived on.

Moyssiadis then had the idea of ​​producing personalized items that brought the names of the guests, venturing into plaster molds in 2018. The advantage over ordinary ceramics, he says, is that it is easy to recycle, in addition to being lighter and to produce shards that do not hurt.

The destruction was a success, but the same could not be said for the food, initially criticized by members of the community, who suggested that his wife, Andrea Sampaio, take over the kitchen.

In the pandemic, the couple was testing recipes and improving the souvlaki, served at small festivals from June 2020. This was the turn of success. So successful, they both decided to open the restaurant full-time.

With the visit guided by the experience of breaking dishes, the meal has the air of an aperitif — although the food is very complete. The caquinho floor, São Paulo’s architectural equivalent of the Greek columns that also decorate the hall, seems to be an always open invitation to throw and break something.

The owner of the space teaches how to play the plate. It needs to be turned face down, like a disk. Anyone who thinks it’s all a mess is very wrong — there are even different modalities, such as Frisbee, in which the piece is used to break a pile of other dishes.

With the air of the Olympics, throwing the object as if it were a disc causes it to be smashed without effort or ceremony. In the background, the restaurant’s customers shout “oops!” with every sound of shrapnel on the floor. Meanwhile, Moyssiadis records everything and soon publishes the scenes on social networks.

Friends and loyal customers add color to the restaurant. An uncle of Moyssiadis stops by to say hello to his nephew, two hurried customers eat recipes ordered by WhatsApp, another packs the meal with photos from the five trips he has already made to the country. It’s very easy to strike up conversations with strangers in a place full of possible topics.

So here’s the tip: those looking for a reserved meal, less noisy and with nothing being broken around might do better elsewhere.