Opulence. That’s the word that springs up in your mind as you enter Öz by Kebapçi, situated on the second floor of UB City Mall. A doorman opens the door for you with a practised smile. A three-foot ornate fountain welcomes you into the reception. The metal doorway arch leading into the dining room has intricate floral patterns. Inside, you find more elements of elegant extravagance, like the kaleidoscopic Oriental rugs adorning the walls, the hanging decorative lamps emitting a pleasant golden-yellow light, the multi-coloured stained glass panel arching the counter, the chocolate-brown wooden chairs with plush cushions, the dramatic dark marble table tops – even the plate (white with blue floral patterns) looks like it should belong in a living room showcase. You don’t just eat at Öz; you fine-dine.
Öz (yes, with an umlaut atop the ‘o’), in Turkish, means essence or core. Aasim Shah, the restaurant’s founder, reckons the name resonates with the place because the food and the ambience try to capture the soul of Turkey. “Along with most ingredients and cutlery, the interior décor elements – the paintings, handwoven carpets, lamps – of the 6000 sq. ft dining space are from Turkey. Mert Duyal, an interior designer from Istanbul, set up the space,” he says.
Aasim’s family was into ship chartering. So, he has travelled a lot of the world – Turkey, in particular. As a culinary enthusiast, he grew fond of Turkish cuisine and felt he could fill the need for a place in India that served premium Turkish food.
On a sultry afternoon (by Bengaluru weather standards), we were first served on a cocktail glass, Lime and Ginger, a pale yellow fizzy drink with a slice of lemon and three mint leaves floating on it.
With the thirst quenched, we began our lunch with Mercimek Çorbası, a lentil and chickpea soup with vegetable stock, olive oil, and a drizzle of chilli oil garnishing it. It tastes a lot like home-cooked dal. So, it is at once familiar, warm, and comforting. But the spice, though less apparent like an underpainting in an artwork, makes the Mercimek Çorbası what it is.
Öz by Kebapçi
Next, we get the Mezze Platter with three slices of pita bread and three types – classic, avocado, and beetroot – of varicoloured hummus that are creamy, smooth, and subtly spicy.
The Antep Chicken Kebap – served with aioli (a cold sauce consisting of an emulsion of garlic and olive oil), roasted tomatoes, and strips of capsicum, onion, and cabbage – looks and tastes different from the Indian kebabs. The pieces of meat look wavy. They also have a coarser texture (compared to their Indian counterpart) because of the addition of diced carrots, celery, and white eggs.
We also tried two lamb-based dishes – the oven-cooked Kilis Lamb (which comes covered by a layer of pita bread) and Lamb Manti (basically, dumplings with minced lamb) – showcasing the rich flavours and textures of traditional Turkish cuisine.
But the most dramatic of the dishes we tried was a vegetarian one: Paneer Lokum. The semi-cooked, soft marinated paneer in isot pepper comes with smoky mashed potatoes and veggies. But before we can have it, we witness a bit of fire drama. The server, armed with a flame torch, melts a cube of butter and drizzles it all over the dish before setting the paneer on fire. This act of arson adds a crispy texture and smoky flavour to the paneer.
The next item on the table has a peculiar name: Imam Bayildi (which in Turkish translates to ‘the imam has fainted’). According to a legend, a Turkish imam fell in love with the dish and fainted with pleasure. His wife, who had prepared it, thought he had died. But when the imam woke up, he said he had “fainted with pleasure” and requested that his wife prepare the dish again.
The aubergine-based meal – embellished with cashew nuts, coriander, and pomegranate arils – was dressed like a celebrity at a gala dinner. Almost all dishes are so photogenic that we almost feel guilty for eating them. There is a recurring character that fails to escape our attention. Like Stan Lee in Marvel films, the pomegranate appears almost in all the decked-up dishes.
Finally, as we were dangerously close to slipping into a food coma, we were served Katmer, a traditional Turkish pastry made by layering thin sheets of dough with butter and then folding and rolling the dough to create a flaky and crispy texture. A dollop of Dondurma (Turkish ice cream) was smeared on the pistachio-filled flat pastry, which was then folded and cut into four pieces.
We took a bite. And, with that, we fell in love with Turkey.
