When you enter this Greek diner, you'll be thanking the god Zeus for blessing you with yet another 24-hour greasy spoon. Surely once the sight of fine family dining in the 1970s, this place has transformed into a comfort-food haven for truckers, youngsters and late-night conversationalists.

No matter what time you grace this diner with your presence, the Greek owners will be sitting around their favorite, front-most table, arguing in a language impossible to understand in decibels unholy to your ears. If you're a regular, they will usually gesture toward a stack of menus as if to say, "I'm busy, seat yourself." The first-timers will be greeted with a pleasant smile and led to an out-of-date, but comfy booth or table.

Take a look around and you'll realize at once that people don't come for the decor. The walls are yellow with nicotine stains and art from yesteryear hangs almost pathetically from the walls. This diner also has a counter-top where regulars park to drink coffee and chew the fat with the waitresses.

The real reason why this restaurant keeps business is the food. I have a friend who once said that if he was in jail on death row, his last meal would be Olympic Star soup. Creamy chicken and rice and other soups go for about $2 a bowl, and with that you get unlimited warm rolls and butter. You can order a cup of coffee and just sit half the night, unbothered by all. (The waitress pouring endless rounds of java being the only exception).

The restaurant has reasonably priced Greek eats. A gyros platter is under $10, and various sandwiches like burgers, patty melts and turkey clubs are all under $8. The older folk come in for the dinner menu where homey specials like pot roast and (for the brave) liver and onions are served.

If you make this place a regular stop after a night out, be prepared to be bombarded with handfuls of dum-dum suckers when you pay your bill. Nobody said Greek hospitality made perfect sense.

Centerstage Reviewer: Jill Kozak