I was greeted by a most unwelcoming hostess. Yes, she had an available table, but only when my party arrived. In other words, single diners should stay away,
Olea is nice enough for those who miss the attitudes and levels of service experienced by unknowing travelers to the Soviet Union, a country that went down the toilet a generation or so ago. Soviet staff would greet you with : "we have tables, alright, but not for you". That is; when your party arrives, talk to us again. We'll have to move you back to square one, or course.
If you question the inhospitable practice, you will get a free lecture on the Olea mantra: "Policy". In fact, the whole staff seemed to be aware of this magic word: "policy". Olea has a policy.
Oh yes, in all fairness, the barman, the grown-up among the uber-hip, did make me a cocktail. When attempting to drink it, though, the waitresses told me that I was in their way. When I asked where i would be less of a nuisance to the help, I felt that I was told to hit the road. This is where you get off.
In short; after my brief, brief visit to Olea, I felt like the staff had peed on me, before they complained that I stank.
Try again? I don't think so.