Emilia checks out a Greek restaurant where the vibe is set before you sit down!
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Spitaki
115 Station Street, Fairfield
“No Malakies.” You can’t miss it; those signs are everywhere. On the door. On the wall. Probably tattooed somewhere on the chef. For anyone not fluent in Greek slang, it roughly means “no nonsense,” though locals will tell you it covers a whole range of behaviours depending on the vibe.
The logo also has a chesty-singletted chef with the words “hot ‘n’ sexy” above it; it certainly sets the tone before you even sit down. Spitaki in Fairfield doesn’t muck around.
Translating to Little House, Spitaki really does feel like you’ve stepped into someone’s Greek home. Not in a staged, Instagrammable way, but in the warm, slightly chaotic way of a real Greek home.
The kind where the ouzo flows freely, and Yia Yia appears without warning, arms full of warm pita. Vintage Greek records line the walls. The place hums with that lived-in, hospitable charm: framed album covers of ‘70s Greek hits line the walls, and if you listen closely, you can just make out the cheerful Greek music drifting through the restaurant.
We were seated against a wall of famous faces; Greek singers, some of them personally signed, all of them watching over your meal like proud cultural theo’s. Out the front, a Greek Papou, silver hair, cigarette in hand, keeps an eye on Station Street, exuding the type of energy that says he’s seen it all before, but he’ll let you in on the secret anyway.
And that “No Malakies” ethos, championed by owner Peter Ghionis, runs through everything. The food is honest, the ingredients are top-notch, and nothing is overworked or overthought.
They have live music, local Greek singers week in and week out, and you can wet your palate with your choice of Greek sodas, some Greek lager, pilsner, wine or of course, ouzo.
We kicked things off with saganaki, the golden, pan-fried cheese that should come with a warning label.
It arrived still sizzling, crispy on the outside, gooey at its heart, the lemon adding just enough zing to cut through the richness. Then came the grill plate: a greatest-hits collection of Greek barbecue royalty.
There was chicken gyro, juicy and threaded with lemon and oregano. Pork gyro, the holy grail here, is slowly roasted over glowing charcoal until it practically melts on contact. The lamb gyro was everything you want it to be: tender, smoky, whispering of rosemary and woodsmoke.
And then, the biftekia, spiced lamb-beef patties, somewhere between a burger and a kebab, served perfectly blushed and dripping with flavour. And a Loukaniko – Greek’s answer to chorizo with flavours of orange zest, garlic and coriander.
Every bite tasted like it had been blessed by the grill gods. And just when you think you’ve finished, you spot the house-cut chips, flecked with oregano, tucked cheekily inside your souvlaki wrap or piled up on the side, crunchy, salty perfection made for dipping into garlicky tzatziki.
If we’d had more room (or more restraint earlier), the loukoumades would’ve been next, little golden doughnuts draped in Nutella, mascarpone, and crushed pistachios, sometimes honey and walnut too. They’re made for people who believe dessert is an act of joy, not moderation.
It’s no surprise Spitaki’s souvlakis have built a loyal following. Generous, well-balanced, and wrapped in soft pita, they hit that rare sweet spot between comfort and craft. There’s a solid vegetarian option too, but the pork and lamb are where the magic really lives.
Spitaki’s secret is refreshingly simple: zero malakies, maximum heart. It’s a little house that does big flavours, honest service, and a whole lot of soul.
Images: 3AW