Poco Piatti on Collingwood Avenue has been doing Mediterranean small plates since before Toledo had much appetite for them, and the room still feels like a discovery even after all these years.
I went in expecting something vaguely Greek — a gyro situation, maybe some hummus from a tub — and came out converted. The kitchen here works in a genuinely different register. Dishes arrive as they’re ready, not in courses, and the whole table becomes a kind of improvised spread. That’s either thrilling or mildly chaotic depending on how you feel about sharing food with people you haven’t warned ahead of time. Fair warning: warn ahead of time.
The menu shifts with the season, but a few things tend to anchor it. The lamb kefta — spiced ground lamb shaped into small logs and finished with a yogurt sauce that has actual funk to it, not the pasteurized blandness you get elsewhere — is the kind of dish I’ve thought about on the drive home more than once. The roasted beet salad, when it’s on, is worth ordering even if you think you don’t like beets. I say this as someone who, for most of my adult life, did not like beets. The feta here does heavy lifting. So does the walnut. The shakshuka, served in a small cast iron pan still spitting when it hits the table, is a reasonable argument for brunch existing as a concept.
The room is narrow and warm, with exposed brick and the kind of lighting that makes everyone look like they’ve slept recently. It seats maybe fifty people on a good night. On a Friday, it fills early — by 6:30 the bar stools are gone and there’s a soft roar of conversation that makes the place feel genuinely alive without tipping into overwhelming. I’ve been there on slow Tuesday nights too, and it holds up differently: quieter, more personal, easier to actually taste what you’re eating.
Wine is taken seriously here, which matters when the food is built around sharing. The list leans toward the Mediterranean — Greek, Spanish, a few Italian bottles — and the by-the-glass options are genuinely interesting rather than the usual dutiful Chardonnay/Cab/Pinot lineup. If you’re unsure, ask. The staff tend to actually know the list.
Pricing lands somewhere in the fifteen-to-twenty-two dollar range per plate, which sounds like a lot until you realize two plates per person is usually plenty, especially if you’re doing bread and something vegetable-forward alongside a protein. For two people with drinks, budget around sixty to seventy-five dollars and you’ll be comfortable. It’s not cheap, but it’s not performing expensiveness either. The food earns it.
Poco Piatti sits in the Collingwood Arts Center building, which means the neighborhood has a creative, slightly unhurried character that suits the place. Street parking is usually manageable. Reservations are smart on weekends and genuinely optional on weeknights. If you’ve been once and left thinking it was fine, go back and let someone else order. That’s when it clicks.
