There’s a brand new Greek-Cypriot taverna in Covent Garden, London, that’s offering taramasalata, souvlaki, spanakopita, kleftiko, kaimaki ice-cream and all the rest. Yet Zylia, which is pale, humbly furnished and deliberately homespun in its styling, somehow has about it the feel of a family taverna that’s been here for about 62 years. You know the sort: up a cobbled back street, with a beleaguered 98-year-old yiayia doing the dishes, a one-eared dog on the step waiting for lamb titbits, and a toilet that’s essentially a cleaning supplies cupboard, as well as home to 200 tins of olives.
Zylia has none of those things, by the way, and its feel is more down to clever interior design mixed with a thoughtful, authentic menu. Then again, you’d expect clever things from chef Nick Molyviatis and hospitality veteran Barry Karacostas. You might link Molyviatis more with Thai food, both at Kiln, where he used to be head chef, and the tarted-up, much-hallowed second rendition of Singburi, which relocated to Shoreditch last year; Karacostas, meanwhile, has recently been working with Arcade, a growing chain of London-based food halls. This is where things get doubly interesting, because Zylia is considered part of the new Covent Garden Arcade, except that, unusually, it has its own front door, its own brick walls, its own website and its own identity. It’s definitely part of Arcade. But it isn’t. Step out of Zylia and into Arcade to spend a penny, and you may as well be walking from a sun-battered Kefalonian alleyway into a Hitchcockian hotel lobby of rich woods, lacquered finishes and oxblood leather banquettes.
This Arcade/Zylia venture is testament to the wibbly-wobbly world of modern hospitality. Ten years ago, the likes of Dalston’s Street Feast and a thousand nationwide copycat street-food concepts told us that bricks-and-mortar dining was old hat. What we wanted, they insisted, was open-plan, wooden benches, ad-hoc ordering, confused queues, no servers; apparently, we wanted a bun fight over bao with all involved clutching buzzers. Now, in 2026, not only do chic, sexy food halls such as Arcade feel more formal and glossy than, say, The Ivy, they’re even hatching separate spaces on their sidelines with brick partitions and individual personalities. For the sake of argument, let’s call these annexes “restaurants”.
Anyway, whatever keeps the stoves burning is fine by me. We live in troubled, VAT-ravaged times and, importantly, Zylia is a lovely place to throw a bit of cash at. The menu is unshowily Greek-Cypriot and draws equally from both islands across its mezedakia, salads, grill, specials and dessert offerings. The former were a particular strong point for me. Karacostas’ mother’s recipe for taramosalata, or whipped cod’s roe served with cracked carob rusk, for example, is as light as air and pungent with vivid citrus notes, and there’s also melitzanosalata, a coal-roasted aubergine dip draped with sweet peppers, and a yoghurt and feta spread spiked with roast chilli. Order a bottle of Three Bowls assyrtiko alongside. A “spanakopita stack” of hand-stretched filo with leek, spinach and soft feta perhaps needs a touch more sharpness, but the wild prawn saganaki in a spiced tomato, yoghurt and tahini sauce is outstanding, and we ordered extra bread to mop up every last morsel.
Zylia is not trying to reimagine Greek-Cypriot cuisine, or deconstructing it, or serving it with smears and foams. Instead, there are plump sheftalia, caul fat-wrapped Cypriot pork sausages served with raw onion, parsley and sumac, and sharing dishes of good-quality (and therefore pricey) lamb chops finished with oregano, salt and lemon; the chicken souvlakia could have done with a little more time on the grill, though.
There’s only the one dessert, which I shall call the “bugger off pudding”, because I swear that both the restaurant and my waistline didn’t want me to order it. Nevertheless, it is a softly chewy, faintly bitter, very good kaimaki ice-cream made with mastic from Chios and wild orchid root salep, and comes with a thick, dark, intensely tart sour cherry preserve.
Zylia is new, fun, noisy and good for the soul. It’s not perfect yet (it opened only a few weeks ago, after all), but its bones are solid, and it has an accessible menu that will snare tourists, because who doesn’t like tzatziki, grilled halloumi or a proper Greek salad? The hospitality is warm and the ambition clear. As the chimes of doom for sit-down restaurants clang loudly and daily, here are Molyviatis and Karacostas doing cheerful dining with the occasional frill. If this is the future of food halls, then I’m interested.
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Zylia 6 Bedford Street, London WC2, 020-3949 4000. Open all week, Mon-Fri lunch noon-3pm, dinner 6-11pm, Sat noon-11pm, Sun noon-9pm. From about £45 a head, plus drinks & service