Mangal 2

*Sertaç Dirik has stepped down as head chef/co-owner, although he will retain some interests in the business.* Of the many Turkish restaurants peppered along this stretch of the A10, here’s one sticking its neck out. Opened in 1994 by Ali Dirik, the business is now in the hands of sons Ferhat and Sertaç. When lockdown first hit, it allowed them to reconsider the identity of the traditional ocakbasi and since then the brothers have been fine-tuning a charming symphony of old and new. The space itself – worn and well-loved from nearly 30 years in service – embodies this juxtaposition. Old furniture is sharpened by a shock of ultramarine blue on the walls and a constellation of spotlights stud the whitewashed ceiling. At inspection, rock music played for the team of chefs working the open kitchen, but like it or not, it was soon drowned out by the noise of happy diners on a Friday evening. While some sport the hallmarks of young Dalstonites, not everyone has got the memo on the new era. Two consecutive walk-ins settle in before reading the menu, with its precision and higher pricing, and walk out again, graciously directed by a deft front-of-house team to more traditional operations. Those in-the-know might open proceedings with a delightfully comforting sourdough pide – charred, craggy and pillowy – served with cultured kaymak butter or grilled houmous. This is a good point to try Cornish farming hero Matt Chatfield’s celebrated mutton 'cull yaw' – a hallmark of restaurants sourcing for flavour and sustainable production. Here, in kofte form, it’s keenly seasoned and rosy-pink at the core – perfect with an elegant glass of Chilean orange wine on the side. The menu continues to mix familiarity with a modern European edge that speaks of Sertaç’s time in some of Copenhagen's hallowed kitchens. Mushroom manti (dumplings) embellished with filament-like cordyceps are brought down to earth by a confit garlic yoghurt, while the lamb shoulder tandir with bulgur wheat is simple perfection, balanced by a bright ezme (spicy sauce), with pickles and ferments ordered on the side. A dessert of mountain-tea ice cream is paired with scarcely sweetened diced rhubarb and a sweeter purée, topped with dark notes from a layer of grilled filo – one of many careful contrasts this restaurant achieves so beautifully.