Avra is quite another school of fish. it seems unduly harsh to judge the simple honesty of the Greek way with seafood after a sensuous night with Esca's saucy monkfish and voluptuous crudi (even if my char weren't slashed, the better to overcook it quickly). But Avra has abundant charms, even for a fussbudget like me. On a balmy day, with windows thrown open to the sidewalk, it makes me feel like I am walking into a country inn. Detouring through a kind of park, even if it is cement, past an ancient terra-cotta urn to a warm welcome heightens the sense of escape. A few embroidered pillows and hanging carpets make it not insistently Greek, but Greek as if imagined in California. Yes, I think it's definitely the freshness that's so appealing here. Light and soft fabric billowing between wooden beams above. Our waitress dancing all over the place trying to anticipate our pleasure. The vast space of two large rooms with the open kitchen in between. Long crusty breads standing up in baskets on a rustic table to soften the view.

Avra, like its parent Trata, like its inspiration Milos, beckons all those who admire the idea of fresh fish, ideally still wiggling a bit on its bank of ice, born to be brushed with oil and seared on the grill or in the oven. Just fish, at prices distinctly lower than Milos, too. Folks who would send back a raw tangerine-oil-slicked scallop to be cooked at Esca will be happy here. They'll love crisp fried calamari, maybe even calamari whole, deliciously stuffed with feta, tomato, and herbs; and the house pizza, Greek salad on grilled pita. And certainly, they'll overdose on the pan-fried zucchini and eggplant chips to drag through garlicky tzatziki. If the kind of people who want their fish well done don't exactly appreciate tarama, tzatziki, and skordalia (garlicky bread purée with almonds), the scattered tables of men speaking Greek definitely will.

I say discover the special elegance to the filo rolled around spinach, feta, and leeks on the $20 prix fixe lunch. As for the grilled octopus with curls of red onion and a drizzle of oil and red-wine vinegar -- it may be the best I've ever eaten. I tried it three times to be certain. A generous gathering of marinated calamari, shrimp, scallops, and cuttlefish encircling perfect baby greens would make a glorious summer lunch. Skewered cubes of swordfish ordered rare are rare enough for me. The fries are great. And I love thick Greek yogurt, rich as crème fraîche, drizzled with honey (maybe a little too much honey). But the crab cakes are dismal, soft and gritty with crumbs, I would guess. And is that a little too much Hamburger Helper in the burger?

Organic greens are soaked. Chilean sea bass has been baked to near-mush. But a friend who eats fish every night of her life raves over the loup de mer. I find it lean, flaky, and a bore. But if you asked me to meet you for lunch tomorrow at Avra, I wouldn't grump. I'd happily be transported to a kinder place, revisiting that supernal octopus.

Avra (141 East 48th Street, between Third and Lexington Aves.; 212-759-8550). Lunch, every day noon to 4 p.m. Dinner, 5 to 11:30 p.m. Appetizers, $6.50 to $14.50; entrées, $17.50 to $28.50. A.E., D.C., M.C., V

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