Sofra

What should we know about Sofra?

It was when casting our eyes over assorted iftar spreads around Dublin on social that we first felt the need to pay Sofra a visit - those fast-breaking platters of soup, mezzes, mixed grilled meats and baklava looked like exactly the kind of quality volume-for-value deal we’re forever in search of. The Turkish team that runs the place previously operated casual café Sweet O’Clock out of the same space, but made the switch right in time for Ramadan back in February of this year.

Sofra is a Turkish term for a dining table, and the aim here is to foster a sense of community anchored in great food. The family-friendly space and sharing-style menu choices attest that every bit as much as those post-fast feast gatherings that caught our eager eyes in the first place. Equally head-turning is the mangal to the rear – this charcoal grill is the beating heart of Turkish barbecue, and the smoke-choked skewers of meat we gawped at as we arrived told us we were onto something good.

Where’s good for a drink nearby?

If you’re out for the night and fancy a pre or post-dinner drink (there’s no booze to be had here), you have your choice of pubs nearby. Capel Street’s Slattery’s is a perennially-popular Victorian-era relic that will keep plenty happy, but for our money you can't beat a seat by McNeill’s roaring fire a few doors down – just steer clear of the weekend tourist crowds. If you’re feeling like cocktails you could make for the newly-opened Sackville Lounge, sister to Bar 1661 (also a fine choice just 7 minutes’ walk away). The black-panelled room just off O’Connell Street is out to play its part in bringing glamour back to the city’s much-maligned main thoroughfare.

Where should we sit?

That all depends on the kind of meal you’re in for. Solo diners or a couple in a hurry will be glad to snag the window ledge, with a view out over the action on newly pedestrianised Liffey Street, but that's not the space for comfort to lean back and linger. Three four tops along the right wall were popular perches for younger families on both of our visits, while the pokey but perfectly-positioned table to the rear offers the only good vantage over the grill – if you’re in alone, and want to witness the magic, this the spot for you.

If they’re all taken, fret not. What’s not evident from outside is the bigger room upstairs, a bright and open space whose thirty-or-so covers and the speed of service here make it likely there’ll almost always be a spot going. Up here it’s a little more cosy than the narrower space below - if you’re making a meal of it, head on up.

What’s on the menu?

A lot! It took us two visits to tick off enough of the menu to really give a clear sense of things, and we could have easily come back a few more times without repeating ourselves – if you’re keen to dig in we recommend rustling up a crowd.

Start with çorba – if the tables of Turks who filtered in across our two times here for just a bowl of this red lentil soup are anything to go by, it’s got the taste of home nailed. Creamy-thick from slow stewing and spiked by a slick of chilli oil, it’s a nutty-noted broth with deep and dormant flavours brought out by a tableside squeeze of lemon. As appetite-whetters go, it’s essential.

Though you might be in some trouble here if your appetite needs whetting to begin with. Turks are well known for their homely hospitality and huge spreads, and Sofra pairs both in the generous plates of mezzes that arrive out to accompany your order. Those of a nervous disposition should steer clear of the upstairs table just at the head of the stairs – seeing the wait staff ascend the narrow steps with piled-high trays is enough to induce vertigo.

It's as tight a squeeze up the stairs as it is onto the table, with the crowded clutter of branded dishes a key part of the charm. Adana kebab is where you should start where mangal’s concerned - red pepper-spiced minced lamb kneaded with onion and garlic and gently squeezed into shape on the shish. The grill’s high heat gives a quick-seared crust that seals in the juices – the succulent spillover as you slice through coats the lavash flatbread and bulgur below with smoky-sweet flavour that needs to be tasted to be understood. We loved this one piled high with pickled peppers and acili ezme, a Turkish salsa that doesn’t skimp on spice, but more sensitive palates might be better to swap the Adana for paprika-scented Urfa instead, and pile on tzatziki or hummus.

After the soup, the most common order we spied in Sofra was the Beyti kebab – small wonder once you see it. That same lamb mince reappears here but packed with cheese in lavash, and grilled wrapped before slicing to serve beneath a mild tomato sauce, and beside a mound of yogurt. You will want to be very hungry to have any hope of finishing this alone. Inspired by an upscale Istanbul restaurant dish whose namesake owner is still serving at the age of 96, Beyti has evolved its way to much more modest form than the lamb fillet original over the years (see Reyna over the river for another take). Nothing fancy here, just full flavour – and full stomach to follow.

The menu mentions ciğer, or lamb liver, as a must for adventurous eaters - to us that just reads like a dare. You needn’t be an offal aficionado to indulge in this one though – the grill’s a great leveller and the crusty char these cubes bear contrasts nicely with the soft, mild meat encased inside. It’s served atop a round of bazlama, a yogurt-enriched fluffy flatbread we found a little too excessive against the tender taste of the liver – pile it up in lavash with sumac-sprinkled shepherd’s salad instead, and savour a truly delicious, nutritious kebab.

The liver can be ordered in a durum wrap too from a section of the menu that looks built for the home delivery and takeaway crowds. We sampled the chicken shish to get a sense and while the marinated and grilled breast ticked all the boxes on juicy flavour, none of the rest of the fillings are reason enough to bother if you’re eating in. Stick with a grill plate (it’s the same meat in either) and mess around with the mezzes for all manner of build-your-own, mix-and-match delight.

Whatever else you do, be sure to leave room for içli köfte. Variations on these meatball marvels are found all through the former Ottoman empire as kofta or kibbeh - the bulger-crusted latter, popular in Syria and Lebanon especially, is the closest thing to this. The crisped coating seals in the minced lamb, left to fry to perfection in its own juices. Skip the cutlery and bite right into these - all the better to savour every last drop that comes gushing out.

No Turkish meal is over without tea, and it’d be rude not to try out dessert with it too – right? Baklava is the business here, the honey-syrup soaked layers of filo pastry and pistachio deceptively light after all those grilled meats. But it’s the künefe you’ll be thinking of long after you leave, with crisp shredded shards of filo dough layered with sweet cheese and cooked until crisp over the grill, before being soaked in syrup and served gloriously gooey.

What are the drinks like?

You’d be forgiven for missing şalgam and ayran alongside Coke and Sprite in the cold drinks section – don’t make that mistake. The latter, slightly thinned and salted yogurt, is sold by the carton in many places around town but not many make their own too. The branded metal cup it’s served in is a lovely little touch, all the better to appreciate the cool, refreshing quality – ideal to go up against anything spicy. The fermented purple carrots that make şalgam are an acquired taste we’re all-in on, especially in the spicy variation they also offer here - we loved it with the liver.

How was the service?

Friendly if frantic. At busier times they seemed a little run off their feet, and you might be in need of catching an eye to get your order if you turn the initial, early ask down – likely given the decisions to be made. The quick grill means mains come fast and furious, though the advised wait time of up to twenty minutes for kunefe when it's busy worked out at over thirty for us with a flood of orders backing things up. The wait is worth it, having to ask for updates a little less so. These kind of issues are common at the early stages - ironing them out will go a long way. When it’s quieter, the owner can be seen working the room and adding to the overall sense of heartfelt hospitality that makes Sofra special.

And the damage?

Our two visits averaged out just over €50 each, with all those mezzes, mains, drinks and add-ons, filling two each time to levels that would have doctors worried. For the quality of food here, and the feast you’ll make of it, that’s superb value.

What’s the verdict on Sofra?

Hot on the heels of the city’s best döner in Chiya across the river, and the phenomenal flatbread value of Sultan’s Grill right round the corner, Sofra slides in to secure a remarkable recent hat-trick of top Turkish food in Dublin that takes the city’s fare far beyond the after-hours offerings that mostly made it up before. There’s a constant craving about town for value like this – in this relaxed room, with these ridiculously generous portions, there’s a winning formula.