Ottoman Cuisine remains top of its game

It's astonishing to walk into Ottoman Cuisine through an avenue of spring planting, past tealight candles and into the rather grand dining room after perhaps two years since our last visit to find that so little has changed.

We're greeted still by Gulbahar Kaya, owner and wife of chef Serif Kaya, and we're served by the same guy who served us last time and I think the time before that. He's talking about a small child that accompanied us on one visit and played in the garden, which, given the smallest is nine years old, must have been some years ago.

While in some restaurants, longevity can lead to a gradual diminishing in relevance, Ottoman is still top of its game. It remains elegant, focused and idiosyncratic. And the familiarity gives you confidence as a diner that you know what you're getting. You can book this place for a birthday or when you have a colleague in town and know it will deliver.

We always share meals here and the restaurant is flexible enough to accommodate that – serving entrees between the three of us, placing mains in the centre of the table so we can serve and share ourselves. This is much the best way of dining and I like the fact that Ottoman is grown-up enough to cope with it.

Much of the menu tonight is also familiar, and you get the feeling that Ottoman refines a dish, gets it right, then sticks with it. The theme is Turkish and more broadly Mediterranean but with Serif Kaya's style.

The flavours are bright and strong. The focus is on fresh and seasonal produce. Handling is delicate. The food has citrus and vinegar, olive oil, and chilli heat.

Imam bayildi is always an irresistible dish for the soft and meaty-textured eggplant. The classic version is halved eggplant stuffed with tomato, onion and red peppers, slow-baked til squishy. But tonight Ottoman is offering the lamb version, karniyarik ($24). We take it. It has that gorgeous texture and is tangy with the trademark Ottoman citrus, there's plenty of heat and yoghurt to balance it. Such a comforting dish.

We confusingly order two little fried parcels of stuff – borek and zucchini flowers – but we don't regret doubling up on this style of cooking. Mediterranean cooking is so good on fried vegetable things that you can pick up and eat. Is this is the biggest failing of our standard Aussie diet?

The zucchini flowers ($21) are stuffed with goat's feta and haloumi and herbs before their fried treatment. They're oozy and warm, and served with a little vinegary well-dressed salad.

The little borek pastry rolls ($19) are filled with spicy duck with plenty of heat and complexity, plus currants and pinenuts, and the classic tanginess, perhaps from the pomegranate and maybe also lemon juice.

The spatchcock main ($32) is recommended and it's excellent. While I have a moment of regret at breaking a self-rule on baby animals, the handling of the meat is is very good, succulent and beautiful, charred gently on the outside. There's a lovely intense sticky cracked-wheat pilaf accompaniment with pinenuts and currants, and simple buttery spinach underneath the spatchcock, plus pesto.

The duck ($36) is also very well cooked, more rugged in its presentation with wedges of orange, and purple cabbage, the meat dark and spicy with cinnamon, and its skin beautifully intact.

We order the kingfish ($35) every time we come here and we're happy to see that the essential components of the dish haven't changed. The kingfish skewers are still served with braised leeks and carrots, and there is something about this delicate cooking of the vegetables, and the slippery leeks, which goes so well with the delicacy of the fish. It's served with a mustard sauce and again a citrus tang.

There is a lack of compromise in the flavours favoured at Ottoman – while it's quite a genteel restaurant, the food is anything but muted. It is bright, sharp, extreme and cooked by someone who clearly loves food.

Likewise the desserts. Saffron poached pears are served with cardamom ice-cream ($16), which is so dense and strong with the spice. Pomegranate and raspberry sorbet and honey and yoghurt sorbet ($12) are uncompromising in flavour, the raspberry bright and the honey prominent but still delicate.

The wine list is a big plus. It's not crazy long nor trendily obscure, and has a solid cellar list of different vintages of the big reds that have won such fame. You'll also find nebbiolo, chianti and sangiovese from Italy, some other key varieties from the United States and Europe and a good local list – the local wines you want to see and drink.

The service is attentive and always good. The room is large in this historic building, the hanging lights are beautiful, tables are well spaced for privacy and furnishings are muted brown. There's lovely use of natural light and the garden setting.

If, like us, you haven't visited Ottoman for a while, you will find not much has changed. But like us, you will probably come away thinking that is a very good thing, since there is a solidity and a confidence about this place that serves it well.