The last time I was at the dining institution Ottoman Cuisine, the Barton establishment was being stripped, and I was reporting on its closure after owner and chef Serif Kaya sold the prime site at 9 Broughton Street in 2021.

There was much mourning for the famed restaurant, which had delighted Canberra diners and more than a few federal politicians.

The idea was to reopen another restaurant, but when that failed to materialise, many wondered if we had seen the last of Kaya. Providence then allowed him to buy back the idle Barton site, and voila, Ottoman Cuisine was reborn after a restoration and refit.

Stepping into the elegant art deco pavilion surrounded by gardens and water features was like seeing an old friend after too long a separation which, appropriately, is exactly what we were doing with our guests down from Sydney.

Their first look at the menu, which more or less had not changed, elicited a wide-eyed ‘How do we choose?’

While other restaurants try to re-invent themselves or become obsessed with innovation, Ottoman, thankfully, has felt little need to mess with classic Turkish dishes.

Baby eggplant stuffed with rice, pine nuts, currants, herbs and allspice, cooked with olive oil, is an exotic combination of flavours.

After ordering a couple of cool climate heroes from a seriously stocked wine list – a Nick O’Leary Riesling and Lark Hill Sangiovese, and how good it is to see local wineries supported – we got down to business.

Eggplant figured prominently in the entrees. We had already settled on the Zeytinyagli sebze dolma – baby eggplant stuffed with rice, pine nuts, currants, herbs and allspice, cooked with olive oil.

Our friends eventually plumped for the tuna tatare – yellowfin tuna, tossed with capers and olive oil dressing, served on tomato-glazed baked eggplant.

The dolma came in threes, elegantly positioned on the plate. This dish has been a cherished memory and did not disappoint. It provided a magic carpet ride of opposing flavours and textures blending into a delicious whole, beautifully complemented by Nick O’Leary’s signature white.

The tuna tartare arrived royally, a precisely layered stack whose colours made it a feast for the eye.

Our friends would have liked more eggplant and reported an unusual flavour reminiscent of lemon myrtle.

Ottoman tuna tatare.

Lamb dominated my thoughts about the mains, but I eventually opted for duck confit with pomegranate sauce. The chargrilled marinated spatchcock also made a play, but that can wait for another time.

My friends chose the Sish kebab – lamb skewers, marinated and chargrilled, served with tzatziki, olive oil braised English spinach and baby carrots, and Pirzola Kekikli – Cowra lamb cutlets seasoned with thyme and sea salt, chargrilled, with sweet potato. My partner treated herself to the cutlets as well.

The supports were two salads – Fatush salata, baby cos lettuce, tomato and cucumber with pomegranate dressing topped with walnuts and lavosh, and Domates salatasi, heirloom tomato salad with parsley, olive oil and lemon dressing.

One quibble.

The sangiovese was a little late to the table, essential as it was to extracting full satisfaction from these perfectly cooked and presented dishes.

When it did arrive, ah the alchemy, proving a perfect match for both duck and lamb.

With the Pirzola, Ottoman didn’t stint on quantity, plating up four sizable lamb cutlets.

You would think it would be pretty difficult to ruin a lamb cutlet, but plenty do. They are either undercooked and flavourless because of an obsession with pinkness or burnt to a crisp. Not so here.

Chargrilled beautifully and tender, was the verdict.

The duck confit was also perfect – crispy skin and moist flesh, combined delectably with the piquant sauce, along with lentils and vegetables.

The sharpness of the salads collaborated delightfully to round out the experience.

The lamb cutlets and salad. Generous, tender and satisfying.

For my partner and me, dessert was a duo of sorbets—raspberry and mandarin orbs with berry syrup. It looked like a treat and proved to be one. The citrus tang and tart raspberry offset the sweetness, producing clean, sharp flavours that blessed the palate.

Our friends ordered Kazandibi, a baked custard with mastic, pomegranate ice cream, and morello cherry sauce. It was a definite winner, striking the right balance between sweetness and tartness.

We arrived at 6:30 and by 10 we were still sitting there over coffee like it was our living room. There was no dreaded second sitting, no pressure to leave.

From the beauty of the surroundings and setting to the soft furnishings, subdued lighting, private dining rooms and welcome lack of a soundtrack, Ottoman invites its diners to relax and forget about the world’s troubles over fine food and wine.

Ottoman hasn’t missed a beat. It is so good to have this old friend back in town.

Ottoman Cuisine is at 9 Broughton St, Barton. For opening times and to book, visit Ottoman Cuisine.