With its rows of banquettes cluttered with throw pillows and its bulbous white columns, the room looks a bit like the inside of an oversized Roman bathhouse. The reality of Barbounia, it turns out, isn’t half as bad as the concept. The lively open kitchen is filled with sputtering grills and clattering pots; the room’s clashing motifs blend together in a half-pleasing way after a few drinks, and even the throw pillows feel comfortable after an adjustment or two. Entrées are generally good, but, true to Greek tradition, the best stuff comes from the sea. You can get fresh striped bass or branzino to go with your cocktails. None of the desserts are quite so good, though you can do worse in the wilds of lower Park Avenue.