October 29, 2004

As a cultural crossroads Turkey has developed an eclectic cuisine, and this Highland Park establishment serves it with grace and finesse.

Food: Good
Service: Friendly, solicitous
Prices: Reasonable
Cuisine: Authentic Turkish cuisine; all Halal meats
Ambience: Informal, family-friendly, Turkey-by-the-Raritan
Hours: Tues.-Thurs. 11:30 a.m.-10 p.m., Fri.-Sat. 11:30 a.m.-10 p.m., Sun. 3-10 p.m.
Essentials: Accepts major credit cards; BYO; wheelchair accessible; private parking behind restaurant on Fifth Street.

Until our Friday-evening visit to Highland Park's Seven Hills of Istanbul, our familiarity with Turkish cuisine was limited to döner kebaps, the shaved meat sandwiches popular in several forms in the Middle East. Nevertheless, while studying abroad, our son Tim had made many late-night stops at Middle Eastern restaurants and helped guide us through the menu's wide choices.

The five-year-old restaurant, just across the Raritan from New Brunswick, announces its eclectic appeal by proclaiming itself "A Mediterranean Grill." As we learned, Turkish cuisine integrates home-grown inventions with recipes and ingredients introduced by millennia of travelers from all points of the compass. As a result, a pleasing cuisine developed in Turkey, with familiar and unexpected elements. Incidentally, downtown Highland Park, where, Kosher-Chinese and Kosher-pizza restaurants were shuttered for the Sabbath, seems the perfect setting to sample this crossroads cuisine.

The décor of Seven Hills establishes a Turkish tour-book atmosphere: terra cotta-toned walls, Turkish carpets used as tapestries or draped on a half-wall, gleaming copper and brassware. Greeting guests is an elaborate Turkish coffee service beneath a brass-topped kiosk. Waitresses wear sassy, sequined wraps over their smart black-and-white outfits, but the waiters' fezzes and embroidered vests of former years have been replaced, regrettably perhaps, with ordinary Western street attire.

A pleasant soundtrack of kanun (zither)-accompanied music, with occasional electronic dance-club themes, completes the experience. Our server, Erol, epitomized Turkish hospitality: friendly, accommodating and solicitous. He helped us select from two-dozen hot and cold appetizers and his advice could not have been better. We enjoyed a complimentary basket of warm ekmek, the classic Turkish bread, which proved the ideal accompaniment for our appetizers and entrées. Erol described the light, yeasty bread as Turkish pita, but in texture it was more like a flaky-crusted brioche than the flat pocket-bread the reader might picture.

The appetizers proved the best part of the meal, and a wise selection among them would make a satisfying dinner. Coban salat (shepherd salad) ($10) is a heaping portion of chopped cucumbers and tomatoes with minced red onions and scallions, laced with mint and parsley. Tossed with a lemon-olive oil dressing, then blended with the topping of shredded Turkish feta, the salad is irresistible in taste and texture. Erol also brought us çaçik ($5.25), diced cucumbers in a garlicky dill-spiced yogurt, as well as hummus ($5.75) and soslu patlican ($5.75), smooth, dense purées made from garbanzo beans and eggplant, respectively. Kalamar ($9.50), enough deep-fried squid to fill a medium-sized serving dish, was less successful, with most of its flavor provided by a creamy tartar sauce.

Among the entrées, we disagreed about the döner kebap ($15.50). Kate found it tasteless, reminiscent of the brown, shaved meat in a cheese steak sandwich. Tom thought the basting sauce lent savor to the dish. Tavuk sis ($17.50), two skewers of large, delectable chicken chunks, were grilled, spiced and garnished with lemony sumac. Both entrées came with rice pilaf, chopped red onion, Italian parsley, a roast tomato and a high-octane roasted green pepper. Erol cautioned that Ispanak ($14.50), a vegetarian dish of spinach cooked with rice, onions and tomato, is designed for a true spinach lover. Tim enjoyed the dish: rich, salty spinach, wreathed around a yogurt sauce. He brought home half the huge portion. Seafood choices were sparse, but we learned that Seven Hills plans to expand its selection of fish, better representing Turkish cuisine.

After dinner, Erol brought a selection of Turkish pastries ($4.75). Finding room for them was a challenge, but we sampled all and took some home for breakfast. Baklava, an almond-filled, honey-sweet Middle Eastern classic, blissfully transported Tim back to those late-night restaurant visits. Doughy sobiyet, however, was uninspiring, and the unhoneyed, pastry-wrapped, crushed pistachio version was bone-dry. More to our taste was kadayif ($4.75), squares of layered filo dough and honey with shredded wheat topping. Firin sutlac ($4.75), a chilled rice pudding, was cool, understated and a perfect foil for the dense honeyed pastries. We recommend that two diners split a kadayif and a firin sutlac. The contrast in these two traditional Turkish delicacies reflects the crossroads character of Turkish cooking and its long, interesting pedigree.

Kate likes to finish with an espresso, and asked Erol for a Turkish coffee, which he indicated would be too strong for her. Instead, probably with the best intentions, he brought a very ordinary cup of re-heated decaf.

If we were slightly disappointed by döner kebap, the most familiar dish, we can easily forgive the restaurant, focusing on all the new tastes, graciously served, that we recall from that evening.