The menu is textbook too: shellfish and meat appetizers, pasta courses, and then grilled and roasted meats and fish, with ample à la carte sides. The prices are reasonable, but the calorie counts aren’t, starting with the appetizers. The unimpressive “crispy” rabbit—four small pieces of bunny buried under vinegar-and-dill potato chips—reminds me of old-school Shake ’n Bake, with a soft loose breading and some chili flakes. Similarly, the grilled meat sampler—six bites, ranging from a paprika-fueled sliver of merguez to a quail drumstick that tasted unmistakably like a Gristedes rotisserie chicken—was more fun than delicious.

Psilakis’s gnudi, cheese dumplings with a barely there flour coating, are a reprise from the Dona menu, and they remain a standout: The sheep’s-milk-ricotta-and-pecorino blend is stuffed in tighter than cotton in an aspirin bottle, complemented by dried speck, delicate mushrooms and onions in a sage gravy. Sweetness, however, doomed a perfectly al dente spaghetti with baby scallops and clams; a syrupy garlic-and-oil sauce was hopelessly cloying, rendering the dish untouchable once it had been picked clean of shellfish.

Entrées are a mixed bag. Psilakis shows his promise with his Florentine meat loaf—a giant meatball of lamb, pork and beef, cooked around a still-runny egg, the meat within equally moist. A big sunny-side-up egg atop the bland, leathery pork chop, however, clashed with the Gorgonzola and lardons heaped on the side. Psilakis compensates for this misstep with the cod, poached in olive oil and coated in caramelized sun-dried tomato pesto. I didn’t like this dish at first, but the tomatoes’ tartness, combined with cockles, calamari ringlets and bracing broccoli rabe, result in an excellent, complex sauce that infuses the fish.

Of the sides, one merits comment: Psilakis’s noble attempt at pickled french fries. Brilliant on paper, a failure in practice. Vinegary flavor helps fries because it cuts through the oily exterior, but a pickled french fry (the potato was brined before being fried) simply tastes sour. The dish that emerges as the true Mia Dona signature comes at dessert: The cannoli: mascarpone encased in an elegant candied orange tuile.

I don’t want to relegate Psilakis to some Athens ghetto. He’s shown enough chops that he could open a Fijian restaurant and I’d try it. But the Roman Empire is proving to be one ancient civilization that his talent can’t conquer.