Dinner in the Sky Athens - Where 5-Second Rules Do Not Apply

Athens is renowned as a remarkable city for its depth in mythology - it is unforgivable for anyone to not recite Odysseus and his truly-off-the-beaten-path return to Ithaca from the Trojan war by heart. But lessons in pedagogical history aside, we have heard differing recommendations from people of the city but all concurring rooftop bars of Athens to be the bees' knees of Greek's nightlife. As the Greek sun sets just a little after eight in the summer, the city is zoned into darkness commensurately and the only other prominent spark in the town comes from the Parthenon. In the reconstruction of the city, the government passed a law prohibiting any building to eclipse the Roman temple in height, prompting the accelerated birthing of rooftop bars in which even those with fissure-like views of the Parthenon tried their hand at it. There is, however, another name on everyone's lips as a swanky spot that defies gravity at dinner time and puts you with the Parthenon at eye-level.

Despite being part of a worldwide franchise stationed in prominent cities of the world, the Athens counterpart of Dinner in the Sky is a breath of fresh air from the convoluted snafu of deciding where to eat in Athens (It takes iron steel determination to stay in the city surrounded with gyros and moussaka). Being the worrywart and acrophobic that I am, I asked Alexandros, one of the partners, if anyone has ever had an accident mid-air, before being strapped into the seat. To which he replied with a grin, "never but you could be the first one". That did little to calm my nerves as I tried the many inventive ways in which my strap could malfunction but there was at least some relief in his comical response.

To be fair, just the experience of being lifted up a crane would do more than throw me into trepidation, but in the words of Leanne, the pulsating rhythm of Coldplay's 'A Sky Full of Stars' delivered a heightened sense and moment of 'infinite'. As the crane started inching its way and revolving like a tightly-wound rubber band, I was told by a certain snarky someone to stop getting my panties in a knot and dangle my legs over the expansive nothing. That and my ego worked double-time and I found myself appreciating the view for what it is. In the near distance, and sure yes the Parthenon was shining like a lighthouse, but the twinkling in the city never stops mesmerising.

Unlike the experience of leaving your sense of taste and smell at the boarding gate on an airplane, being hoisted up 50m in the air is quite the opposite, the thrill and precariousness of ensuring the shrimp secured on your fork does not turn into bird feed at ground level reignites those little nerve endings on your tongue - food just tastes so much better, or it could just be the way the Greeks delicately prepare their food. For practical reasons, everything served on the menu is pre-cooked then heated up in the oven on the platform.

Before getting into the specifics of the dish, Alexandros did justice to the menu - dropping a timely reminder that everything from the seafood down to the lush salad greens originates from the surrounding Greek farms, seas and mills. For starters, we were acquainted with an octopus carpaccio served with olive oil and oxymeli sauce (a traditional sauce that allowed the senses to pick up on the light scent of greek wine and honey). The second dish met our daily requisite of carbohydrates in the unlikeliest of ways, Dolmadakia, a dish populated from the island of Kassos surrounded by the Aegean sea, is much easier described as stuffed vine leaves of rice, minced meat and herbs. The dish that is laborious in execution produces a lightly tempered crunch that comes from the twisty creepers of the grape tree.

Greek meals never stop at two dishes and neither are the Greeks ever satisfied with ending dinner at the unspeakable hour of eight in the evening. What follows next was the complementary duo of a meat dish and one from the sea. A precisely-plated platter of steamed shrimp with vegetable tartar and feta mousse with parsley was presented, blending hints of the Aegean sea together with the savoury nostalgia of Greece's very own heritage sheep cheese. The final dish, veal fillet 'rotti' with ginger and orange sauce was served with sides of 'souvlaki' baby rate potatoes, sweet butter potatoes and vegetables with thyme. The elaborately-named dish is not one that is all-bark-and-no-bite, the subtleties in each cooking variation were prominent without the typical heaviness of Greek meat dishes.

By the time it came to the trilogy of desserts, Leanne and I had enough to keep us going for the next week but we, or rather I, couldn't resist dirtying our fingers with the crisp and cream of the biscuit with creme framboise and lemon sauce. Even though I have provided an elaborate descriptions of the meals, you have been advised that the spread alternates across seasons and we can be sure that would not be the case in the summer of 2017 and 2018. Regardless, the exhilaration of sharing a revolving table in the sky as a party of 22 over 50 metres in the sky should provide quite the thrill. As the evening winded down to a halt, I casually leaned over and quizzed Alexandros, what happens when someone has a leaky bladder. He casually points behind the counter, "there is a lever here, whoever who needs to go potty (will be bounced out)", he laughed.

Dinner in the Sky Athens is open for the season from 7 June to 30 September 2017, serving a five-course meal accompanied by Greek wines. The menu changes every season and each dish is locally sourced. Guests with dietary requirements can be accommodated. 120€/person

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