Mediterranean Grill

Along the Mediterranean coast where the sun shouts down the facades, hot, through the incandescent blue sky, you’ll find an alley. Palm fronds whisper and rustle in the dry offshore breeze. Worn stones line the passageway built more for walking with old-world simplicity than whizzing along in an auto. The chatter of children and old folks, of everyday life unchanged for generations, bounces between ancient stone and plaster walls to make a warm cacophony, comforting, familiar. 

There is a street in Helena, widened and modernized now, where nevertheless arid hillsides climb out of the ancient gulch and the new still feels like a thin veneer on the old. If you were to stand at the front door of the Mediterranean Grill at the gulch’s mouth, you might see such a sky and sun, and with the right squint of eye, you might imagine date palms and fig and olive trees dotting the hillsides. There. Now you’re getting hungry. See how easy it is?

Walk in the Grill’s door and imagine no more. Owner Ersun Özer has recreated such an alley remembered from his childhood on the coast of Turkey. The cerulean ceiling presides over an outdoor village scene painted on the facades lining the walls. Storefronts and apartments surround the tables as at an open-air cafe. An inevitable church-front stands dominant in one of the dining rooms, complete with colored glass windows painted abreast of the door. The street slopes down a hillside where rooftops artfully recede into the distant hills. Mandolins play softly above the murmur of family and friends visiting together. 

In any case, let’s walk, work up an appetite, and then to complete the perfect day, let’s try the Grill again for dinner. 

Some new appetizers appearing on the dinner menu include Muhammara, a Syrian blend of walnuts, red bell peppers and pomegranate molasses served with flat bread, and Lahmacun, a Turkish style pizza with ground beef, peppers, tomatoes and spices on a thin flat dough, which is traditionally rolled into a tube for easier eating. 

Some pastas we didn’t find on the lunchtime list are here, including the Bucatini Siciliana, a thick, hollow spaghetti-like pasta with a sauteed blend of onions, garlic, roasted bell peppers, capers, pine nuts, white wine, herbs and spices—beautiful in appearance and rich in taste. A choice of lasagnas is here, and the Ravioli Pesto is popular. 

My eye immediately finds the Paella in the list of entrees. A favorite of mine and rare to find, it is one of the most sumptuous tastes I’ve ever experienced, and tonight’s is no disappointment. Ersun described it to me: “Paella is of course a rice and whatever’s in the pantry dish. Originating in Arab countries where it was based on rice with chicken and lamb, it eventually made its way across the Mediterranean into countries more dependent on the ocean, and now we see it with seafood and maybe some Andouille sausage.” The Grill’s version of this concoction has steamed fresh mussels and clams, sauteed prawns, squid and chicken, tomatoes, peas, and the obligatory saffron. 

The Saltimbocca alla Romana is also a delight. Veal medallions are sauteed with prosciutto, fresh sage and Marsala wine, topped with fresh mozzarella, and served with roasted baby red potatoes and fresh vegetables. The Shish Kabob, Shrimp Kabob and Swordfish Kabob are all customer favorites, and the Atun a la Brasa con Romesco, a grilled tuna with Romesco sauce, is earthy and exotic. 

“Every item on the menu is made from scratch. For our hummus we get dry garbanzo beans, soak them, cook them, grind them, add our own ground garlic and spices. We roast fresh eggplant for our Baba-Ghannouj, even though we could buy it commercially. The Falafel is made from scratch, no mixes. I only wish I could grow all the ingredients myself.”

As we visited we were often interrupted when Ersun would greet a customer like an old friend. He brings his old-world sense of community to Helena, and he thinks Helena is a good match for it. “My hometown of Aydın is a lot like Helena. People live there and stay there. My friends are still there and I go there every year for a vacation. In Aydın and in Helena, people say ‘hi’ on the street even though they might not know each other. We know each other’s families and each other’s business—sometimes too much, but that’s how it is in a community. We don’t want the anonymity of the big city. 

“Locally owned businesses support each other, and they support the community. We all try to chip in when somebody needs something, and we often do better than the big chains. Local business means something here. Sometimes if people  need a particular exotic spice, they come to me, and I give them a few teaspoons of this or a cup of that. 

“I have low turnover. I give my employees respect, and they are proud of the restaurant. It’s their reputation too. I interview rigorously to make sure I get the right people, and I give them a chance to do what they want to do. I tell them, ‘You’re only as good as your last soup’ and they take it to heart.