On paper, at least, Kellari Taverna’s culinary credentials are well in order. Executive chef Costas Tsingas held the same title at the Athens Olympics in 2004. Chef de cuisine Peter Spiropoulos has proved his upscale Greek technique repeatedly, at Trata, Avra, and Milos. But the Olympic-size restaurant has room to improve. Kellari falls snugly within a familiar serious-Midtown-Hellenic niche, if perhaps on a larger scale than usual. The cooking has just a few modern touches, mostly in the appetizer realm. Saganaki, the delectably comforting roasted cheese snack, here occupies its own menu section, with three varieties of cheese. Haloumi ($11.95), the most familiar, is browned in big hunks and doused with lemon and an ouzo-like spirit, while vlahotiri ($12.95) wears a nut crust, and apricot complements the sweetness of katsikisio.

The array of Greek dips is masterful – briny taramosalata, pungent, garlicky skordalia, cool tzatziki, mashed, charred eggplant, buttery pureed favas – each better than the last, and fantastic in combination. At $7.95 each or $15.95 for an assortment, they’re also one of the few areas of the menu where prices don’t feel unduly inflated.

At Kellari, as at any estiatorio worth its salt, fresh fish plays a major role. In the middle of the cavernous wood-beamed room,a bevy of the delicious creatures lie in state on a bed of ice, waiting to be picked for the charcoal grill. Diners can go visit the fish on their slab to choose one, or pick from the menu by type and weight and have the server bring likely specimens to tableside for viewing. The fishes cost from $24 to almost $40 a pound; the house recommends sharing any fish weighing much more than a pound.

Species range from typical Mediterraneana like dorado ($25.95 a pound) and loup de mer ($26.95) to such mild exotica as sargos ($32.95) and fagri ($36.95), both delicate im ported members of the bream family.And Kellari manages to buy excellent fresh ones: All the fish, which are split and deboned before serving, have the flavor and crackle of the grill in their skins, and the super-moist, quick-cooked flesh doesn’t depend on the obligatory lemon for tang.

Away from the grill, though, the fishes fall victim to unimaginative, unscintillating preparations, like a bland Chilean sea bass avgolemono ($26.95). You can almost picture each element of the dish – the fish, the scanty sauce, the plain poached carrots – looking around nervously, hoping someone else will take responsibility for giving the dish some flavor.

Meat courses are just a little better. A sizable baked lamb shank ($25.95) has great,wine-dark flavor and comes escorted by lemony greens and buttery celery-root puree. But braised goat, one of the restaurant’s showpiece dishes (and at $34.95 one of the priciest), lacks in a couple of regards, particularly in its shockingly poor presentation.

The chef seems to have taken a cue from ancient Greek propitiatory sacrifices, in which, according to Samuel Butler’s “Iliad” translation, “they cut out the thigh-bones, wrapped them round in two layers of fat, [and] set some pieces of … meat on the top of them.”The big, ugly, ungarnished pile of goat I got was indeed covered with a large slab of sheer fat, and included a few naked bones, too. What meat there was, was sweet and tender, tinged with red from the braise. But once it had all been eaten, and the marrow sucked from the bones, a giant heap of inedible detritus still covered most of the plate. The accompanying risotto, rich with the barnyard tang of goat cheese, would make a fine main dish on its own; here it’s forced to carry a lot of the burden of satisfying the confounded goat-hungry customer.

Desserts include faithful treatments of favorites, like rose-scented loukoumi jelly ($8.95) served with rice pudding, baklava ($8.95), and a big, humble mound of thick yogurt on a plate ($8.95), drizzled liberally with honey and macerated cherries (and again lacking any grace of presentation). Less-familiar options include a sweet spinach pie ($7.95) that works surprisingly well, with the vegetable contributing just a smidgen of unique savor.

The substantial wine list offers some 100 Greek bottles, most less than $50, along with plenty of non-Greek choices. By the glass, Domaine Skouras’s popular deep-red agiorgitiko ($8 a glass) can be seen on many tables, with competition from a cabernet/agiorgitiko blend from Vatistas ($11) and Spiropoulos’s delightfully crisp sparkling Ode Panos ($14).

Despite its expanse, the restaurant avoids being comfortable. Even the servers seem to get lost in Kellari’s vastness and stiff corporate feel. Combine that uncomeliness with the occasional stumbles of the more ambitious dishes, and, until some improvements can be made, much of the restaurant’s promise is lost as well.

Kellari Taverna, 19 W. 44th St., between Fifth and Sixth avenues, 212-221-0144.