This is a spot off the beaten track. It doesn't have an address, but hop in a cab and tell your driver to head North to Kiki's Tavern. He'll know where to go. Take your bathers, a book and definitely your camera. Now you're ready for BarChick's worst kept secret.
Things you need to know about Kiki's: you will queue no matter what time you arrive, but if you wanna make sure you'll be digging into your feta within an hour, rock up for the first sitting at lunchtime. They open the place at 12:30 so be like BarChick and arrive for 11:45 and get your face seen by the guy running the joint. He'll remember your place in the queue and get you seated as soon as the doors open. Sure, no-one likes waiting, but your patience is rewarded with the free help-yourself box of rosé perched next to the door. Grab a cup, chuck in some ice and wait for your table. You can even kill some time by checking out the cove beach beneath you. Turns out the greeks do queuing better than us Brits. Legends.
Once you're sat at your table in the dappled shade of that rattan roof, order a carafe of chilled wine and get ready to feast. Hit the salad bar, get some of their cool tzatziki and blushed taramasalata and ensure that fresh-baked bread is put to good use. The lack of lecky here means all the hot stuff comes from the grill, and f*cking hell, it's the proverbial tits. When in Greece, you gotta hit up the seafood. Here, we're talking prawns so juicy you'll be suckin' the juices out from under your nails for the rest of the afternoon, so order those, and the octopus the size of your arm. Throw in the chicken, with its sweet, chargrilled skin which seeps with tender juices for good measure, and you're golden.