Photo by Sarah Miano.

A spritely Kelvi Kuqi may bring your table a wine list, extra aioli or a story to tell. The first should come as no surprise, since his family’s restaurant takes its name from the Greek god of wine and revelry. Today, he’s covering the floor solo, easy-peasy. “I’m mainly the front man,” he says. “In Germany, I was in the kitchen. I go where I’m needed.”

Djonisi's, nestled in a low-key plaza on Fruitville Road, welcomes you with chirpy Greek music and a citrus snap. Two years in, it already pulls a devoted crowd of 70% regulars. “People figure out what they like and keep coming back for it,” Kelvi says.“My dream table? Twenty people, where everyone orders something different and shares.” For groups, he points to Djonisi’s plate–an abundance of fire-blessed meats. The standout? Lamb chops, marinated till succulent and smoky.

His parents, Altin and Maria, who’ve cooked together for over 25 years, bustle in the kitchen. After leaving Athens, they ran a restaurant near Frankfurt with the same menu and approach. Their other son, Djonis, as co-owner and head chef, lends this rendition its name. From Altin’s plump bifteki to hand-rolled dolmades and verdant spanokopita, they craft almost everything onsite. The octopus arrives over a tumble of rucula, thinly sliced, tender and tangy.

Two items come from outside: pitta and gyro. Not for lack of trying. “The pork here isn’t the quality we want unless sourced from small farms,” Kelvi explains, “it’s too expensive to serve at cost.” Transformed in-house, the gyro becomes savory and more-ish.

Inside, blue-and-white decor evokes the Aegean, urns cascading with greenery and bougainvillea. The space is spotless, serene. Window tables catch the light while back booths offer communal ease. “It’s not a quick thing,” Kelvi says. “You come and sit down, order appetizers and a glass of wine. Guests stay two to three hours. We don’t tell them to. They just tend to, naturally.”

Kelvi considers their family’s work a calling. “Trying to fix someone’s personal life by giving them food is something I aspire to.” His eyes widen as the kitchen bell chimes. “If I can’t live that out in my career, then why work?” he calls, sprinting for the pass.

Later, retirees will lean over syrup-soaked baklava while families scoop up burnished moussaka. Djonisi’s defines Greek food as an inheritance. And about that revelry: they also do parties.

Djonisi's, Tues-Sun 11am-3pm; 5-19pm, 4940 Fruitville Rd., Sarasota.

Photo by Sarah Miano.