Who knew one kitchen could do so much with so little? Just as an orchestra takes seven notes and produces an infinitely varied stream of poetry, in the narrow kitchen at the back of Christos's Agean blue-and-white Minneapolis dining room, a bevy of cooks tease olive oil, lemon, oregano, rosemary, and garlic into many, many rich and boldly flavored concertos. (In St. Paul the regal dining room manages to be even more operatic.) There are dolmas, of course, redolent with lamb and cinnamon and napped with a puckery lemon sauce. There's lemony tabouleh that's more parsley than bulgar. Octopus baked with red wine and bay leaves. Earthy, rich trout roasted simply with the aforementioned herbs. There are fat, pleasantly gamy lamb chops cooked with olive oil and oregano. Calamari that tastes not of breading but of lemon and salt and a flash in a hot sauté pan. The mostly-Greek wine list is accessible and affordable. Opa, indeed.