Eating in Mykonos: The Taverna No One Talks About and the Table Everyone Overpays For

There are two ways to eat in Mykonos. The first involves a reservation you made three weeks ago, a table overlooking the water, a menu with no prices, and a bill that arrives face-down like a diagnosis. The second involves a plastic chair, a paper tablecloth, and the best meal you’ll have on the island.

I’ve done both. Extensively. Here’s what I learned.

The Scenes

Scorpios. Everyone tells you to go to Scorpios. They’re not wrong, exactly. The setting is beautiful — Paraga Beach, low-slung furniture, a crowd that looks like it was cast by a director with excellent taste. The food is Mediterranean sharing plates, and some of it is genuinely good. The grilled prawns are worth ordering. The “market fish” is priced by weight in a way that feels intentionally opaque. I spent €180 for two people at lunch, which included one bottle of wine and a lingering sense that I’d paid to be part of an atmosphere rather than a meal.

Go for the sunset. Have a drink. If you eat, order the prawns and nothing else.

Nammos. The most famous beach restaurant in Mykonos, possibly the Mediterranean. Nammos is less a restaurant than a social experiment in how much people will pay to be seen eating in the right place. The sushi is mediocre. The lobster pasta is fine and costs what a modest car payment costs. The DJ plays music that’s slightly too loud for lunch.

I went because I felt I should. I don’t feel I should again.

Interni. In Matogiannia, on the restaurant street that every visitor walks down at least twice. Interni is beautiful — the courtyard, the lighting, the presentation. The food is modern Greek with enough technique to justify calling itself something more. The lamb is good. The wine list is better than it needs to be. The price is high but feels earned, which is more than I can say for most restaurants at this level on the island.

If you’re going to have one nice dinner in Mykonos Town, this is it.

The Tavernas

This is where the island actually feeds you.

Kounelas, Old Port. A fish taverna on the waterfront where fishermen are the regular clientele and tourists are the interruption. The menu is whatever came off the boats. You point at a fish, they weigh it, they grill it. A whole sea bream with lemon and oil, a Greek salad that tastes like the tomatoes were still warm from the sun, a half-liter of house white that costs less than a single glass at Nammos. I ate here four times in five nights. The waiter started greeting me like a returning relative.

To Maereio, Kalogera Street. A tiny place in Mykonos Town that most visitors walk past because it doesn’t have a view. This is a mistake. The moussaka is the best I’ve had in the Cyclades — actually hot, actually layered properly, with a béchamel that has more to say than the entire Scorpios menu. The stuffed peppers are filled with rice and herbs and something I couldn’t identify that the owner, when pressed, described only as “my mother’s recipe.” Cash only. No reservations. Get there before 8 PM or don’t get there at all.

Joanna’s Nikos Place, Megali Ammos. A beach taverna with an absurdly good sunset view that somehow hasn’t been “discovered” by the crowd that pays €50 for sunbeds. The taramasalata is made in-house and it’s pink and briny and perfect. The fried calamari arrives in a pile and disappears in minutes. The vibe is families, older couples, and people who’ve been coming here long enough to consider Mykonos Town a different island.

What to Order Everywhere

Order: Whatever fish they caught today. Grilled whole. Don’t fillet it — the cheeks are the best part and most people leave them. Greek salad with no modifications. Bread with olive oil, not butter. House wine — it’s almost always local, almost always cheap, and almost always better than the €60 bottle on the wine list.

Don’t order: Sushi. This is Greece. Truffle anything — it’s not truffle season and it’s not truffle territory. Wagyu. If I see wagyu on a Mykonos menu again I’m going to say something I can’t take back.

Skip: Any restaurant with a hostess who asks if you have a reservation in a tone that implies you should feel lucky to be standing there. You’re on an island. There’s a taverna around the corner. They’ll be glad to see you.

The Truth About Mykonos Dining

The expensive restaurants in Mykonos are selling you a feeling. Some of them do it well — Interni, parts of Scorpios — and the feeling is worth something. But the tavernas are selling you food. Actual food, made by people who’ve been making it for decades, served without performance, priced without apology.

My best meal in Mykonos cost €22. My worst cost €190. I’ll let you guess which was which.

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