I’ll be honest: I have a love-hate relationship with Aba. The South Congress restaurant is undeniably beautiful – a patio oasis that feels like a Mediterranean fever dream. But dining there often involves fighting a loud, vibey scene. I enjoy the snacky dips and pillowy pita, but I would rather eat them in the peace of my own living room than compete with the roar of bachelorette parties. When I heard Ēma, the sister restaurant to Aba, was opening at the Domain NORTHSIDE, I wondered if the North Austin outpost would provide the same hummus high with fewer headaches.
The name Ēma means “mother” in Hebrew, while Aba means “father.” It’s a flowery bit of branding for the newest project from Top Chef alum CJ Jacobson and Chicago’s Lettuce Entertain You restaurant group. If Aba is the flashy patriarch, Ēma is meant to be the lighter, breezier matriarch, focusing on California-Mediterranean shareables and a summery aesthetic.
The atmosphere at Ēma reads like a Greek-inspired Anthropologie store. The palette leans heavily into beige, with wicker chairs, leather seats, and suede booths blending into a monochromatic wash. Even the servers are dressed in shades of oatmeal and sand, nearly camouflaged against the decor. That neutrality is offset by an abundance of greenery inside and out, including a massive, floor-to-ceiling tree in the center of the dining room. Twinkling vines, oversized basket chandeliers, and the sheer volume of indoor flora help create a transportive effect – enough to momentarily forget you’re essentially dining at a mall. But when you walk into a place that advertises a $47 branded Apotheke candle at the host stand, you know exactly what you are getting into.
Anticipating long waits based on several reviews, I decided to reserve a table three weeks in advance. However, the only available times were 5pm on a Wednesday or a late 8:30pm slot, which, frankly, I’m too hangry for these days. Despite the early hour, the place was already buzzing with soft party music and tables eager to share mezze.
The menu, much like at Aba, starts with spreads. The sweet corn hummus is a standout, topped with Aleppo, chive, and black lime. The topping offers a lovely bite of sweetness, though I wish the kernels were a bit firmer. The pita served at dinner was thinner and crispier than Aba’s, although nicely seasoned. By lunch the next week, the pita was back as the fluffier, more pillowy version, which paired nicely with the white cheddar labneh. That labneh, topped with honeycrisp apple, lemon zest, and almond granola, is a textural triumph. It’s tangy and crunchy, with a warming hint of cinnamon.
From the raw section, the bigeye tuna is vibrant and fresh with pops of pomegranate and a yuzu nigella vinaigrette. The hamachi crudo with charred avocado, coconut cream, and lychee also hit high notes of brightness, though I encountered a slightly fishy linger on the finish.
The veggie and hot mezze plates are equally solid. The blistered green beans with mushroom aïoli and yuzu poblano kosho have a nice Asian-inspired kick and a satisfying crunch, even if they are a bit heavily sauced. The mushroom “escargot” is a zingy delight, served scalding hot with garlic, parmesan, and Calabrian chili breadcrumbs to create a fun play on the traditional snail dish.
When you walk into a place that advertises a $47 branded Apotheke candle at the host stand, you know exactly what you are getting into.
Things start to slip with the larger plates. The Ora King salmon with a sherry glaze and braised figs was cooked well, but at nearly $40, it felt underwhelming without any sides or grains. The trenne pasta with braised lamb featured charred, hollow, triangular noodles, but the ratio of kale to lamb was off, leaving the dish feeling a bit lopsided and chewy.
Lunch was even more of a mixed bag. The braised short rib sandwich arrived in a soggy tragedy of a pita pocket, the beef tender but lacking depth and interrupted by an oddly large wedge of green tomato. The shawarma-spiced bowl featured too-dry chicken breast with oversalted turmeric rice, making me wish I’d gone to a shawarma stand for a wrap that would have been twice as satisfying at half the cost.
The beverage program, managed by Nicholas Berggren, leans into the Mediterranean theme with varied results. The Do Not Disturb (Tito’s, St-Germain, cucumber, and mint) is a refreshing poolside-esque libation. The Don Higo, with rum, fig, and coconut, drinks boozy and autumnal. The Variegated Vesper is vegetal and herbaceous, garnished with a giant caper berry. But the Triple Cask Old Fashioned falls flat, reading more like a glass of bourbon with a fig garnish than a balanced cocktail.
The real downfall of Ēma, however, is not the kitchen – it’s the service. During my dinner visit, the hummus arrived with our drinks still MIA. There was a sudden rush, with multiple mezze plates landing within seconds of each other, then a total lull. At one point, I counted eight people standing around the service station, yet we couldn’t flag anyone down to ask about missing wine, which, sadly, came after I finished my entrée.
When the wrong salmon dish was brought to our table, the runner seemed prickly as I pointed out the mistake. Later, a busser whisked away my plate while I was still chewing my final bite, fork still in my hand. There is a strange lack of cohesion on the floor. With so many staff members visible, the service lag feels more like a deficiency of direction. To the restaurant’s credit, the salmon was comped, and our server was very kind, sharing that it was her first shift.
For dessert, the honey cake offers a redemptive moment. It is a magnificent 10-layer construction, light and moist, reminiscent of tres leches, spiced with cinnamon and burnt-honey whipped cream that never veers into cloying sweetness. On the other hand, the frozen Greek yogurt with olive oil and sea salt was offensively tangy, so sharp it made my cheeks pucker. It desperately needs a drizzle of honey for balance.
Ēma is undeniably a beautiful addition to the Domain NORTHSIDE. It is quieter than Aba, and parking is infinitely easier. Go for the vibes, the spreads, and a slice of honey cake. But for a seamless, high-end dinner where the service matches the curated environment, the experience still feels a step behind. For now, Ēma feels less like a nurturing matriarch and more like a distracted hostess who has perfected the aesthetic but forgot to pay attention to her guests.
Editor’s Note: This review has been updated to reflect that Ēma is open at the Domain NORTHSIDE, across the street from the Domain proper. The Chronicle regrets the error.
This article appears in April 17 • 2026.
