Divan delivers uneven Turkish cuisine

Berkeley’s stylish newcomer on Fourth Street impresses with its setting more than its food

In the fast-food economy, falafel wraps are now as ubiquitous as cheeseburgers. That is to say their quality is wide-ranging. At $8 for pita bread or $13 for khobz hamam, one eats Shawarmaji’s on repeat because the chef adds a tahini salad made with diced tomatoes, cucumber and olive oil. Shawarmaji avoids the fatal misstep of most kitchens of serving overcooked falafel patties that eat dry as summer hay. Skimping on sauce, whether it’s yogurt, hummus or tahini, exacerbates the problem.

Divan’s falafel ($16) falls squarely in the dry category. Sliced in half, it’s elegantly served with a side salad that’s better dressed than the main. The thin layer of lavash is papery thin and also papery to taste. Divan also makes a scrumptious sesame bread. A more inventive kitchen would, without question, serve it on that. The wrap also contains iceberg lettuce, pickled red cabbage and a vegan mayo. None of these ingredients register as distinctive flavors. Nor do they provide any moisture. The mayo, in fact, is negligible and doesn’t fit into the equation.

As an example of Divan’s general approach, the falafel suggests a corporate take on a dish rather than the approach of a singular, impassioned chef. It’s as if a committee sitting in a boardroom looked up the definition of “fa·​la·​fel (noun)” in a culinary dictionary before ending up with the lowest common denominator. It was a wrap that’s served in strip malls everywhere.

The rest of the dishes weren’t all this undistinguished but, collectively, the meal left me with a blank feeling of dissatisfaction. And it was impossible for me not to compare the dishes with superior ones I’d eaten at Mica Talmor’s dearly departed Pomella, Lulu’s on Solano or Reem’s, which recently re-opened a location in Jack London Square. At these restaurants, making comfort food lies at the heart of the enterprise.

Divan’s setting is upscale. The emerald-green cushions—or are they peacock blue?—covering the booths and banquettes confer the illusion of luxe and grandeur. When the space belonged to Tacubaya and then Pollara Pizzeria, a wall divided the dining room. That wall was removed and the room now feels spacious, airy and open. A charming side patio was refurbished for al fresco dining. This makeover only compounds the impression that more money went into the décor than the R&D necessary to perfect each recipe.

Each member of the mezze trio ($21)—hummus, muhammara and girit ezme—was entirely unmemorable. Oh, Mica! Would it be possible for you to trademark your hummus and sell it on the open market? A couple of years ago I tried girit ezme for the first time at Esnaf, a Turkish restaurant in San Carlos, and still recall its texture and parmesan-like tang. Divan makes their girit with the same dense texture, akin to a Boursin cheese spread, but it was simply bland. Served warm, the freshly baked sesame bread improved the taste of all three dips. But the trio should be able to stand on their own without being dependent on the bread. 

The Esnaf comparison continued through our order of lahana sarma ($18). As a child, my grandmother made a similar dish with stuffed cabbage leaves. We called them “galumpkis” due to threads of Polish and Ukrainian heritage. They’re filled with ground beef and rice, and stewed in a tomato sauce. Of all the dishes we ordered at Divan, these were the tastiest. Where the cabbage leaves in Esnaf’s lahana sarma melted in one’s mouth, Divan’s ate like a more clinical and staid version of the dish.

An order of mücver ($15) was ultimately offputting. Described as zucchini cakes, they’re actually zucchini balls served on a bed of labneh laced with mint. Outside, the balls were crisped to a dark reddish brown. Once bitten into they strangely disintegrated—as if they were mostly made of air. Instead of herbs or the brine of feta cheese, they tasted of cooking oil. The dish might have a better chance of succeeding if they’re flattened into the shape of patties. Like the sesame bread, the thick layer of labneh saved the mücver from ruin.

Divan, 1788 Fourth St., Berkeley. Open Mon-Sun for lunch from 11am to 2:30pm, for dinner from 5-8:45pm. divanberkeley.com

LEAVE A REPLY

Please enter your comment!
Please enter your name here

East Bay Express E-edition East Bay Express E-edition
19,844FansLike
17,941FollowersFollow
61,790FollowersFollow
spot_img