Have you ever seen the misadventures of Nedim Sahin, the guy who went viral with videos at his…read moreBaruthane Pilavcisi restaurants? He claimed to taste the first spoonful of each new batch of food to ensure that it meets his mom's standards. There is a well-known Turkish proverb he quotes from - "pilavdan dönenin kaşığı kırılsın". In literal translation it's "break the cooking spoon of the pilaf maker who falters in its task". It's understood as either "see it though come hell or high water" or "bring your A-game or don't bother showing up".
Eh, I wonder if the guy who served me this kofte platter at BayRidge Turkish cafe has ever heard the quote? When it came to Turkish food, certain items are universally loved, like çorba (soup) and kofte (meatballs). Çorba has such an elevated status that a commander of the Ottoman elite military corps (Janassary) is known as a çorbaci (soup man). Even today, the term is used in modern Turkish slang as "boss". There's an old saying in Turkish that the best kofte is made by your mom, but the best çorba is from the local kebab joint. What makes for good Turkish kofte? It's supposed to be fluffy juicy pillows of meat the size of say, a mini Snickers bar, made with ground beef and sometimes lamb, with some diced lamb tail fat whipped into the mixture, seasoned with sweet and savory spices like cumin, mint, coriander, mace and such, then grilled over coals. In Turkey the usual service is with a bowl of buttery Turkish lentil soup (often accompanied by their bread), ice cold Ayran, piyaz (navy bean salad), then kofte fresh off the grill, and maybe some rice pilaf (buttery rice with bits of toasted orzo within) on the side. Who does a good version in Brooklyn? Kofte Piyaz in Sunset Park - it ain't cheap, though.
So what is up with this 15 dollar kofte platter I got at Bayridge cafe? Well, the size of the kofte is odd, like breakfast sausages (my wife is much less charitable on the comparison and said it looked like something from a kitty litter box). It tasted dry and shriveled up, with no flavor at all, like it was air fried once too many. The iceberg lettuce and tomato salad that came on the side just bleeds off the mediocrity. The rice is just white rice and not pilaf. The inexplicable part is when they serve up lentil soup and gave us slices of American white bread. Not toasted, not buttered, and certainly not Turkish bread. Me and my wife bursted out laughing. The soup is...serviceable, but it certainly won't make any Ottoman Sultan dance for joy or fuel warriors into battle - it tasted flat (the version that I make has tomato and pepper paste, onions, garlic and dried mint...which this didn't have) and we didn't see the usual shaker of aleppo (pul) peppers for sprinkling onto the soup to give it a kick. The bean stew that we ordered (Kuru Fasulye) was watery and without much distinctive flavors.
So, eh, is this place bad per-se? Not really. Despite the disappointing kofte, it comes with a small bit of eggplant salad that was honestly not too bad. The Turkish tea was on-point (well, they used Caykur Tomurcuk, which is a Turkish Earl Grey grade) and they used a double boiler to do the tea, which means that it's legitly brewed in the Turkish fashion with the right flavors. The Tulumba wasn't nearly as good as, say...Safa in Istanbul, but it isn't a disappointingly soggy mess like the ones at Djerdan Borek or coyingly sweet with salad oil stench like the ones at Artion bakery in Astoria. It was like how you imagine a good churro would be - warm, not too oily, sweet but not too much so. Crisp exterior, honeyed interior, goes well with a cup of hot tonic Turkish tea, served strong and fragrant. So yeah, it's not hopeless. But geez, guys, save your wonderbread for the American sandwiches and toss pitas or Turkish bread with your Turkish fares, and talk to your mom about serving up proper kofte. I can excuse the soup but that kofte is a travesty.
Köftedan dönenin isgaralar kırılsın - either make something worthwhile or don't bother at all.
