I'm all about the shrimp at the new Yiayia's.

Well, almost.

The fish are fabulous, too, at the Pappas family's promising revival of their late Greek restaurant, Yia Yia Mary's, which closed on San Felipe in 2020. My first two visits to the new Yiayia's Greek Kitchen on Richmond at Kirby were so heady I've been obsessing about them all week.

Consider sprawling, butterflied prawns roasted in their shells, so big and luxurious they eat like baby lobster tails. Their scatter of chopped green and Kalamata olives looks like it might overwhelm them, but no. Ladolemono, a lilting emulsion of fresh lemon and rounded Greek olive oil, makes it all shine.

"They taste like they were grilled right by the ocean!" marveled the friend sitting across from me. Somehow, with their smoky tinge, they did.

Pearly chilled shrimp from the cold bar were just as good in their own way. All their garnishes worried me at first glance: tobiko, pomegranate seeds, herbs, pink peppercorns, a dark ribbon of vinegar running through a river of olive oil. To say nothing of that briny swirl of taramasalata, the salted and cured fish-roe dip, on which the whole crownlike shrimp edifice rested. But it all clicked, especially as a first course that leaves you hungry for more.

The seafood in particular here hits the high-water mark established up the street at Little's Oyster Bar, the chef-driven restaurant that marked a leap forward for Houston's reliable family-owned restaurant chain.

Indeed, Little's opening chef, the talented Jason Ryczek, hopscotched around the dining room on Yiayia's first official day of business the Friday before last. He has ascended to the role of corporate chef, retooling menus across the company's roster; and he worked with the team of Michael Fikaris, Pappas's research-and-development concept chef, on the menu here.

I didn't love everything I tried on my visits. Which is understandable. A restaurant's first few days are hardly the time to draw sweeping conclusions, which is why I always tried to wait three months before reviewing during my life as a critic.

But I couldn't help showing up on Day One in this instance. It's not that I was such a big fan of the original Yia Yia Mary's. (I found it okayish). It's that I had a hunch the ambitious Little's stardust might carry over to this new project.

And it did. The two fish dishes I sampled seemed miraculous, still pearlescent and supple inside, although I hadn't volunteered my usual "on the rare side, please." They were a splurge at $48 and $53 bucks, but they were ample and they delivered.

I marveled over the crispness of the dark skin on grilled Mediterranean Sea bass (aka branzino); and its lush counterpoint of blistered cherry tomatoes, collapsing pearl onions and a swoosh of skordalia, the garlicky Greek potato puree that is one of my favorite substances on earth. (Along with taramasalata, that is.)

The subtly bitter, vegetal notes of the snapper's fresh heart of palm and radish met the bounce of capers and a sluice of lemon and olive oil, a brilliantly understated contrast. Both fish dishes, and both shrimp dishes, were as striking as anything served at Little's, and just as impeccably sourced.

Christina Pappas, the restaurant's marketing whiz, passed through dispensing welcomes and family lore. We raved about the fish, and she replied, "The grill guy's a beast."

In other news, I wasn't crazy about salty lamb-and-beef meatballs in tomato sauce, or the Dakos tomato and feta salad tossed with Cretan wheat rusks. It was so aggressively tart and salty I managed only a few bites. The Greek gin and tonic, made green and gorgeous with a sheaf of herbs, was way too sweet for me. But hey, who knows what tweaks lie ahead?

Departing, I pictured hanging with friends on the vast, handsome patio when the weather cools—we're almost there!—sipping glasses of Greek wine, or maybe a luminous Vesper livened with just the right edge of ginger. Plus a host of little mezedeh dishes (the Greek equivalent of mezze). Feta-and-red-pepper dip zapped with Houston-friendly Chile heat, maybe; and crisped pastry spanakopita triangles filled with feta, leek and spinach.

Or you may find me at the restaurant's long, hospitable bar, having a plate of roasted prawns and a glass of mineral-shot Assyrtiko all to myself.