Taverna Kyclades.

Let me get the big one out of the way. Taverna Kyclades at 36-01 Ditmars Boulevard is the taverna everyone means when they say “Astoria Greek.” It has been on that corner since the nineties, it takes no reservations, and on a Saturday you will give the host your name and cell number and then stand on the sidewalk for forty-five minutes minimum. I have stood on that sidewalk more Saturdays than I would admit to my podiatrist. I will do it again next month.

Here is why. The grilled octopus. It comes out with a char you cannot fake at home, tender inside, dressed with nothing but good oil, lemon, and a little oregano. If there is a better grilled octopus in New York City, I have not found it, and I have gone looking. Order that first. Then a whole grilled fish, the lemon potatoes, a horiatiki salad, and the saganaki that arrives flaming at the table (a small, theatrical joy that never gets old).

The room is bright, cramped, and loud, and they pour affordable Greek wine by the bottle. No cocktails, no fussing. You are here to eat.

Do not underestimate the line. That wait is not a rumor. Go early, like 5:30, or go on a weeknight, or make your peace with standing outside holding a glass of wine you talked them into pouring you. And a second honest note. When it is slammed, the service moves at the speed of a place that knows it does not need you to come back. You will. Everyone does.