By David Tsirekas
My first memory of Thessaloniki is a cigarette burn to the cheek. I was five, crammed on a bus with my parents, somewhere between the fumes of democracy and diesel. The stranger didn’t even flinch, just flicked it, puffed on, and kept his stare fixed outside as if I was just another pothole on Egnatia. Welcome to Thessaloniki.
Back then, smoking indoors was a sport, not a habit, and everyone, aunties, bus drivers, students, lit up like it was a civic duty. The scent of cigarettes blended with cologne, souvlaki smoke and the salty tang of Thermaikos like some mythical city perfume.
Another vivid memory takes me up to the hills of Sykies, where my dad’s sister lived. Along the remnants of the Byzantine walls, built from the 4th century onwards and later fortified by successive empires, I remember families living in makeshift shelters, donkeys tied along fences, children darting between crumbling stones. These weren’t scenes of despair, but of resilience. It was just after the great earthquake, a time of anxiety and stress, yes, but also of community and endurance. Looking back, it added to the romanticism of a city already steeped in layers of exotic history: Byzantine grandeur, Ottoman whispers, the quiet strength of the Sephardic Jews, and the travellers who brought with them not only stories but textiles, because let’s face it, we all have one of those heavy lion or tiger blankets they sold, sitting in a cupboard back home in the outside diaspora.
I loved how those Byzantine walls didn’t just stand still in time, but morphed into the architecture of the city’s evolution. They weren’t relics, they were scaffolding, holding up balconies, splitting streets, growing vines and memories in equal measure.
As I got older, bolder, and far less supervised, I’d weave down those zigzagging hills, dodging stray dogs and Mercedes taxis with their window handles removed because the driver didn’t want to let the traffic fumes in, in search of sea breeze. That same childhood curiosity that sent me downhill still drives me today, this guide, in many ways, is another descent into the city’s streets, another exploration born from those first solo wanderings through alleyways that whispered back.
It’s hard to nail down how many restaurants Thessaloniki really has, partly because new places open every week, partly because the best ones aren’t always the ones shouting loudest. And yes, I’ve left out the zaharoplasteia and the bars, not because they’re not worthy, but because trying to include them all would be endless. Thessaloniki does patisserie better than anywhere in the country, and its bar scene could fill a guide of its own. This is a more refined slice of the whole story, just enough to get you started.
So follow your nose. Be bold. Wander, like I did, and you might just find a hidden gem I missed or never wrote about, and maybe keep it to yourself. Because here, food isn’t just eaten. It’s remembered. It’s guarded. It’s lived.
Estrella
Pavlou Mela 48, Thessaloniki
@estrella.worldstreetfood
Founded in 2013 by the Kapetanakis family and Maria Smpili, with Executive Chef Dimitris Koparanis, Estrella didn’t just open a café it reinvented Thessaloniki’s brunch culture. By reimagining traditional street food like koulouri, bougatsa, and tsoureki, they created a globally distinctive brunch identity. Their now-iconic bougatsan, a flaky croissant-bougatsa hybrid, went viral before viral was even a thing, drawing queues from sunrise and inspiring copycats from Melbourne to Manhattan. Some even tried to steal the name, imitation, after all, is the flattest form of flattery. With multiple stores now and a well-earned National Geographic feature, Estrella helped put Thessaloniki on the global food map, one custard-stuffed pastry at a time. The brand has begun expanding across Europe, with a store in Portugal and upcoming openings in the Middle East.
Diagonios
Stratigou Kallari 13, Thessaloniki
@diagonios_1977
Since 1977, Diagonios has been the quiet champion of simplicity. Forget foams and gels — here, it’s soutzoukakia or nothing. Charred, juicy, seasoned just right, these are the heroes of the North, grilled and plated without fuss. Pure Thessaloniki honesty on a plate.
Nea Folia
Aristomenous 4, Thessaloniki
@ineafolia
Nea Folia is where time stood still but the food kept evolving with the heartbeat of the city. A jukebox in the corner spins old love songs while plates arrive that feel both ancient and fresh. A neighbourhood institution that tastes like history reimagined.
Loupino
Katouni 4, Thessaloniki
@loupino.thessaloniki
Steaks kissed by fire, Black Angus from Greek farms, tsipouro flowing like a friendly argument. Loupino feels more like a gathering than a restaurant — a place where every charred cut reminds you that Thessaloniki has learned how to flex its carnivore credentials without breaking a sweat.
Rouga
Karipi 28, Thessaloniki
@rouga_skg
Hearty enough to feed an army of Alexander’s hoplites, Rouga is Ladadika’s soul on a plate. Macedonian meze served with the kind of unpretentious warmth that makes one wine glass multiply into three. Rustic, lively, and honest to the bone.
To Elliniko
Stratigou Kallari 9, Thessaloniki
@toelliniko
Down by the White Tower, To Elliniko captures the beauty of Greek meze without turning it into a museum piece. It’s a dining room where lemon, oregano, and family chatter hang permanently in the air. You could easily lose a whole afternoon here and still feel like you’ve only just sat down.
Mourga
Christopoulou 12, Thessaloniki
@mourga2016
It doesn’t get more homegrown than this. Chef-owner Ioannis Loukakis brings the soul of Macedonia onto each plate, letting local ingredients shine without unnecessary fanfare. No overdesigned menus here, just handwritten specials fresh from the market or foraged from nearby hills. Guests rave about the anchovies, the shellfish, the wild greens — all plated like little edible poems. Mourga is seasonal eating with salt still on its lips and Thessaloniki’s heart beating on the plate.
Clochard
Komninon 10 & Mitropoleos, Thessaloniki
@clochard_restaurant
Since 1979, Clochard has been a beacon of fine dining in Thessaloniki. Founded by Nikos Zervas and still family-run, it’s where refined service meets ingredients with stories to tell. The seafood is exceptional, delicate yet bold, local yet worldly. I once brought a food tour group from Accoutrement in Mosman, Sydney here back in 2009, and watched their jaws drop at the first taste of Greek fine dining done right. If you want to see where Thessaloniki’s elegance quietly lives, book a table.
Extravaganza
Episkopou Amvrosiou 8 & Ptolemeon 29A, Thessaloniki
@extravaganza_skg
Don’t let the name fool you, there’s no gimmick here. Just inspired plates, fearless combinations, and service that knows when to lean in and when to stand back. A darling of the city’s new wave, it’s where market flavours meet urban finesse. Greek food through the lens of jazz.
Charoupi
Doxis 4, Thessaloniki
@xaroupi_cretan_restaurant
Charoupi is Chef Manolis Papoutsakis’ temple to Cretan cuisine. More than a restaurant, it’s a cultural, historical, geographical and spiritual journey into the heart of Crete, served from Thessaloniki. Don’t rush, you’ll need time for the goat, the greens, the carob, and everything in between. His repertoire is organic, his flavours honest, and his philosophy refreshingly free of tricks.
Mia Feta – Feta Bar
Pavlou Mela 14, Thessaloniki
@miafeta.fetabar
Yes, there’s feta. But this isn’t some dairy gimmick, this is a Greek cheese bar with a point to prove. Pavlou Mela 14 is where you’ll rediscover why feta deserves its PDO and why Danish or Bulgarian knock-offs shouldn’t even be in the conversation. Wine? Of course. But stay for the full tour of Greece’s cheesemaking genius. Western Europe doesn’t have the monopoly on the good stuff not when this place exists.
Castra – All Day Terrace
Themistokleous 5, Thessaloniki
@castra_terrace_bar
Come up here not just for the drinks but for Thessaloniki itself. Castra gives you a front-row seat to the city’s layers, rooftops, domes, minarets and balconies stacked like a pastry of civilisations. It’s not eclectic, it’s essential. A spot to soak in the city before descending into its rhythm. One visitor wrote it felt “like sipping wine on history’s balcony.” Couldn’t have said it better.
Kafenion Odysseia Mezedopoleio
Kastritsiou 11, Thessaloniki
No Instagram
Live rembetiko music, a jukebox of humanity, and meze that feels like it’s coming from your auntie’s kitchen. Be up close, as in someone’s-living-room close, and let the plates and tsipouro arrive without asking. This is country classic Thessaloniki, right in the city.
Gyros Tis Aristotelous
Aristotelous 24, Thessaloniki
@gyrostisaristotelous
Right in the mix of the square’s action, this is where you go for gyro that tastes like it should, crispy edges, juicy middle, and none of the showboating. A street-level Thessaloniki essential.
Trizoni Exclusive
Doxis 1 & Salaminos 12, Thessaloniki
@trizoni_thessaloniki
Sit at the crudo bar and watch your seafood prepped right in front of you, clean, bright, and confident. This is fine seafood with none of the ego, just a deep reverence for the sea.
Iliopetra Gastro Taverna
Eschilou 5, Thessaloniki
@iliopetra_
Chef and owner Giorgos Zannakis has quietly built what could be Thessaloniki’s best hidden gem. Handwritten seasonal menus, local meat, and mountain herbs, all plated with unpretentious clarity. Iliopetra is rustic elegance, and no two visits are the same.
Maitr & Margarita
Fragkon 3, Thessaloniki
@maitr.margarita
Named after Bulgakov’s iconic novel, this spot draws the city’s eclectic thinkers and lovers of the obscure. The menu is poetic and wild, like your yiayia started reading avant-garde cookbooks.
Dangara
Plateia Agiou Georgiou 7, Thessaloniki
@ntagkara
A tribute to Florina and Western Macedonia. Dangara cooks like the old villages did, over flame, with feeling. The peppers smoke, the meats fall apart, and the place itself smells like it’s been doing this for generations.
Palia Athina
Imvrou 24, Thessaloniki
@palia.athina
Come here hungry, leave convinced it’s the best meat taverna in Greece. Big flavours, bigger portions, and enough house wine to baptise your entire table. A Thessaloniki institution.
Salonica Restaurant
Makedonia Palace Hotel, Thessaloniki
@salonica_restaurant
Chef Sotiris Evangelou is a giant cuddly bear with philotimo for days and encyclopaedic knowledge of Greek cuisine. What he serves here is elegant, grounded, and deeply generous, modern Greek without the nonsense.
Salento Wood-Fired Pizza
El. Venizelou 76, Thessaloniki
@salento_skg_streetfood
After eating here, you might just start believing the Greeks invented pizza. And yes, someone’s yiayia probably did throw pineapple on one before any Canadian. Salentinas are genius and the dough is pure fire.
Snack Grill Express
Malakopi 7, Thessaloniki
No Instagram
Old school as it gets, vertical charcoal stacks, smoky slabs of gyro, and a vibe that transcends time and space. This is the realest gyro in town. Only open 8pm–midnight. Closed weekends. They make the rules. You just show up.
Verges Lageis
Venizelou 63, Thessaloniki
@vergeslageis
Ice-cold Vergina, sizzling meat, and charcoal smoke that clings to your clothes and your memories. This is how Northern Greece does barbecue, rowdy, loud, and absolutely beautiful.
Mezen Salonica
3 Rongoti Street, Thessaloniki
@mezen_salonica
Greg Chelmis is Greece’s answer to Josh Niland, seafood mastery, but with tsipouro. No reservations. No ego. Just Greece’s best meze, maybe ever. Don’t forget the original in Volos. It’s chaos, it’s comfort, it’s magic.
Sin Trofi
9 Doxis Street, Thessaloniki
@sin_trofi
Alexandros Barbounakis, once Thessaloniki’s Deputy Mayor, now feeds you with the same passion he once governed. It’s the kind of place you need to visit more than once, because you never know what he’ll serve, or what wine he’ll pour to match. But you’ll remember it long after you leave. Sit at the makeshift bar at the window to the kitchen. It’s the best spot in the house.
Thessaloniki rewards the curious. It’s a city best explored not by itinerary but by instinct, the tug of a scent down a backstreet, the sound of cutlery clinking over lunchtime debates, the glint of tsipouro in a stranger’s glass who’ll soon be calling you cousin. Don’t wait for a sign. Push open the unmarked door, sit down where the music’s just a bit too loud, and trust that someone will pass you a plate before you’ve even ordered. This isn’t a city that performs hospitality, it lives it, breathes it, and insists you join in whether you planned to or not
Because here’s the secret, Thessaloniki isn’t trying to impress you, and that’s exactly why it does. Its people carry the kind of warmth that isn’t put on for tourists, it’s just how they’ve always been. Let them fold you into their rituals, their meals, their late-night arguments about who does soutzoukakia better. Let your curiosity be louder than your Google Maps. You’ll leave with more than full stomachs, you’ll leave with stories, friendships, and a sneaking suspicion that maybe, just maybe, Thessaloniki isn’t holding up Greek culture… it is Greek culture, wearing a leather jacket and offering you a smoke.
