Greek Village Cafe

Clearing our entree plates after dinner at the Greek Village Cafe, our waitress offered dessert. Creme brulee, she suggested, but with a twist, in that the crust of caramelized sugar sat atop a rich rice pudding instead of the usual custard.

But we had a favorite Greek dessert in mind, and asked if they didn't by chance have galaktobureko. Yes, she said, "my grandmother's recipe." The brulee sounded intriguing, but oh, we love galaktobureko. And, as it turns out, Grandma rocks.

I'm getting to dessert first, because it sort of crystalizes our experience at Greek Village Cafe. There's no shortage of authenticity: Our waitress had the soulful brown eyes, the tendency to hold thumb and first two fingers together when she was describing a dish and the ability to translate what the Greek singer on the video screen was saying to his audience. The restaurant has all the feel (read: charm) of a mom-and-pop. The twist in the rice pudding justified the "French fusion" reference on the restaurant's sign (and so, we were told, will the changes to come, which will add more of a French influence to the menu). And the galaktobureko ($7) also had a bit of a twist, which only served to make it better.

I truly love this dessert, which customarily is semolina custard topped by layers of phyllo dough. For this version, however, phyllo had been cut into pieces and sort of piled atop, so that it stayed nice and crisp and presented a textural contrast to the custard.

The same dexterity, thought and care showed in the other dishes we had. A gyros platter ($19) usually is a simple enough proposition, just chunks of gyro meat hacked from the cylinder and piled onto the plate, maybe with some lettuce and tomato and tzatziki on the side. In this case, the meat had been cut about as thinly as we think is possible, and then it was layered atop a little pile of roasted vegetables, with rice pilaf on the side.

Pastitsio ($19) showed a great deal of restraint. Authentic long, tubular Greek pasta had been laced with a slightly tomato-y meat mixture that contained just enough cinnamon and was topped with a rich bechamel before being browned in the oven. This was probably the best I've ever sampled.

Our entrees included warm toasted pita triangles and salads of mostly mixed greens with tomato, a few olives and some nice chunks of feta. They were a tad overdressed for me, so next time I'd ask for the dressing on the side.

And last but not least, our starter, which was a combo plate ($13) of two pieces each of the restaurant's spanakopita (spinach pie), tyropita (cheese pie) and patatopita (potato pie), well-seasoned mixtures all, wrapped into crisp phyllo triangles.

With it, we tried some glasses of Greek wine, an Xatzimichalis Cabernet Sauvignon ($8) and a Skouras Merlot ($8), both of which were quite nice.

Service throughout was very good. The prices might be more than you'd expect to pay in a mom-and-pop, but the nicer touches are there. Tables are well appointed -- linen napkins, heavy flatware (with a subtle Greek-key motif) and gleaming china -- and our waitress took pains to do things right, such as bringing out a tray and stand to put our extra pastitsio into a takeout container, rather than making us scrape it in ourselves, which always feels uncomfortable.

The place itself is somewhat of a puzzlement, in that the space is broken up kind of awkwardly. There are couches along one wall that clearly are a hookah area later in the evening, and there's a dance floor complete with lights, disco ball and speakers.

So some people clearly go to the Greek Village Cafe for hookah and dancing. As for us, some of the best Greek food we've eaten, in this area or any other, would be enough of a draw.

Las Vegas Review-Journal reviews are done anonymously at Review-Journal expense. Contact Heidi Knapp Rinella at 383-0474 or e-mail her at hrinella@reviewjournal.com.