What
Named after owner Vivian Papasotiriou’s grandmother, Eugenia, Yayaka exists in large part as a way of keeping alive the flavours and spirit of the woman who raised her. As an homage, it couldn’t be more perfect nor more appositely generous. You can taste the grandmotherly touch in every dish – openhanded, big-hearted, comforting, made to share – even though the setting is anything but old-fashioned. Housed within a sleek glass shard of a building in Dickens Yard, Ealing’s modern new quarter, once you’re seated, you might as well be at someone’s family table, being urged to take just a little more. Lunch at Yayaka turns out to be one of those meals that leaves you full not just of food but of feeling.
Where
Inside, Yayaka is pleasingly bright and airy – and demonstrably popular. A steady stream of local cognoscenti, those savvy enough to have cottoned on to its bountiful offering (a reliably good sign), quickly fills every table, thus adding to the hospitable atmosphere filling the room. The welcome is convivial, not least since Vivian herself is often on hand, radiating warmth and making sure every table is fed like family.
To Start
We began with hummus so silky it could have been mistaken for mousse, eaten with pillowy, warm pitta. Our nine-year-old – an unashamed hummus snob – pronounced it a triumph (and she doesn’t hand out that praise lightly). The tzatziki was similarly gorgeous, creamy and cooling, while calamari arrived as delicate morsels, not rings, paired with ouzo mayonnaise and sprigs of fennel. Best of all were the spanokorizo croquettes – crisp filo giving way to tangy feta, spinach, and bright spring onion. Every plate struck that balance of freshness and wholesomeness – inventive, yes, but with the deeper confidence of something passed down through generations.
The Main Event
For mains, my daughter and I shared the Chicken Yahni: half a roast chicken atop a stew of green beans, olives and potatoes. It was the very definition of comfort food, making us forget the rain outside and feel utterly looked after. Exactly what a grandmother would cook if you turned up hungry on her doorstep. My husband, meanwhile, devoured the pure comfort that was the Beef Giovesti – a rich, slow-cooked ragu with orzo cut through beautifully with the tang of feta. A masterclass in the all-important flavour balance.
And Finally
Dessert was Yaya Sofia’s Ekmek, brought to us with a flourish by Vivian, who would not hear of our being coy pudding refuseniks. We’re so glad she beat our reticence into submission with the kind of no-nonsense insistence our own grannies would have mustered. Imagine the lightest Greek cheesecake, crowned with edible flowers and scattered pistachios. It barely touched the table before three spoons were diving in, and within moments it was gone.
To Drink
We paired our meal with a bottle of Kokotos Agrimi Savatiano Roditis, crisp and characterful. It played beautifully with the freshness of the starters and the depth of the yahni.
The Takeaway
Yayaka is that rarest of finds: a restaurant that feels both modern and cosy. Its sleek setting in Dickens Yard belies the spirit of grandmotherly generosity that infuses every plate. You come away nourished in every sense – comforted, cared for, and, as in our case, vociferously trying to convince the owner to open a second venue in your hometown.
