4 Sisters Kebab and Cafe is a hidden pearl inside a Shell (servo)

It always happens. Cook enough great meals for family and friends and you'll hear these words: "You should open a restaurant." Most of the time, though, you shouldn't. Restaurants are complex machines and lots of fine cooks find out the hard way that passion and a great palate don't pay the bills.

In the case of the four Yazar sisters, however, the pundits were right. They definitely should have opened a restaurant, and five years ago that's exactly what they did.

Four Sisters Kebab and Cafe is a modest Turkish eatery and takeaway at a Shell servo and truckstop, 40 kilometres south-east of the city.

Safiye, Nurten, Ayse and Fatma bring a slew of different skills in menu creation, cooking and business to the table but they all share one thing: they were raised by their mum Elif, a talented and opinionated home chef who continues to be an inspiration and yardstick for her daughters.

Just about everything is made from scratch, with a focus on freshness, quality ingredients and the deft touch and care you'd expect from home cooking.

Kebabs come in wraps or as generous meal plates with rice or chips and salad. I was blown away by the subtle brilliance of the Iskender kebab, a specialty of Bursa, south of Istanbul. Thin slivers of grilled lamb are layered over cubed, fried bread. On top, there's rich housemade tomato paste and a drizzle of toasty clarified butter, also prepared here. Roasted green chilli and thick yoghurt cut through the richness.

At breakfast, there's menemen (baked eggs with green pepper and tomato) and a four-cheese gozleme. Soups – homely tripe, lentil and lamb shank – each have their fans.

Safiye Yazar, a pastry chef, takes the lead on baklava creation. As well as traditional walnut layered with filo pastry and soaked with sugar syrup, there are brainwave baklavas flavoured with peanut butter, coconut, even tahini.

My favourite is the Turkish sensation of the past few years known as "cold baklava" because it needs to be kept in the fridge. Here it's called "milklava" because the binding syrup includes milk and cream.

The pastry is dusted with cocoa powder, topping off a sweet, sticky, crunchy slab that is unapologetically indulgent but somehow elegant too, as though you are eating Milo from the tin while wearing Alexander McQueen.

The other tenants here are Coles Express and KFC and the landlord was looking for another big brand to take on shop three. The sisters determinedly made the case for their indie business, then imported colourful tiles, put up evocative posters of Istanbul and Cappadocia, and got busy crafting a menu that speaks to Turkish heritage and Melbourne creativity.

They've created an accessible, welcoming cove, visited by locals, Turkish folk from far and wide, and truckies who take boxes of baklava back to families in Queensland and South Australia, though it's hard to imagine them not taxing their sweet bounty on the long road home.