Early this past summer, the fertile Third Ward welcomed a Turkish restaurant where, from the shape of the water glasses to the contents of the vases on the tables, diners are constantly reminded of its name: Tulip,a flower that bloomed in Turkey before Holland.
Turkish is a new cuisine for Milwaukee, but a very old one in the history of the world. Food historians consider Turkish one of the three major recognized world cuisines, along with Chinese and French. During the Ottoman Empire (1300s to early 20th century), when Turkish rule spread from parts of Europe and Asia to North Africa, Turkish cuisine flourished and influenced the evolution of other cuisines. For example, baklava, which you might think of as just a Greek pastry, had its beginnings in early 19th century Turkey. The term “shish kebab,” which you’ll see in Middle Eastern restaurants, has Turkish origins.
For many locals, going to Tulip for the first time will be like traveling to a foreign country, complete with beautiful scenery and unexpected flavors. Co-owner and native Turk Korkut Colakoglu says that the culinary side of Tulip reached the level of authenticity he’d hoped for once he and his partners found Kemal Akea, a chef who left his job at a five-star hotel in Istanbul to work in Milwaukee.
When it came to the interior, architect/business partner Michael Corrigan emphasized surfaces, but not simply the exposed Cream City brick inside this 1890s building (which once stabled horses used by the Wisconsin Gas Co. to light gas lamps in the city). The bar is topped with Turkish onyx; the floor is a shiny caramel-colored concrete. Turkish lanterns placed above the bar, ornate wall hangings and a mid-room lounge with leather couches lend more richness to the space.
Most people are going to need a primer to Turkish cuisine, not to mention a knowledgeable server. The waitstaff was pretty green on my visits, but the kitchen was a short walk away. If they didn’t know how to answer, they went to the source. Which is fine for now. A few months’ experience will hopefully help.
As for an easy spot to jump into the menu, the mixed appetizer is a natural ($15). You choose any four out of eight cold appetizers. Some of the options will look familiar – hummus, stuffed grape leaves – but the flavors are not the same as the Greek and Middle Eastern ones you might know. The finger-sized grape leaves – stuffed with rice, currants and pine nuts – are suffused with olive oil, cinnamon and dill. These are oilier than Greek versions I’ve tasted, with a more nuanced cinnamon flavor. Several apps are tapenades or purees – zesty accompaniments to bread. The chunky red pepper has hints of hot green pepper, parsley, garlic and pomegranate juice. To offset this condiment’s heat, try the yogurt spread (yogurt is another creation with Turkish beginnings), smoothly blended with feta, garlic and fresh mint. Not everything is spreadable, however. With its very soft texture and mellow flavor, the artichoke hearts stuffed with carrot, onion and potato remind me of composed salads I’ve had in Eastern Europe.
Of the hot appetizers, the cigar-size phyllo cheese rolls are crisp outside, creamy inside ($7). Beyond the crunch, what lingers is the light tang of feta cheese and grassy flavor of parsley. In the category of foods you might need to psyche yourself up for, there’s fried veal liver. But unlike the rubbery, livery tasting liver of many nightmares, this Turkish approach features chunks of firm meat lightly battered and fried, delicately flavored with oregano and sumac – a dried berry ground into a fruity tasting powder. Raw purple onion sprinkled with parsley completes the liver encounter with a cold crunch ($6).
I love lentil soup, whether a thick puree seasoned with garam masala (an Indian spice blend) or a broth full of whole lentils, veggies and garlic. Tulip’s is another version of lentil soup entirely – thin and smooth, smacking of tomato paste, mint and lots of dill ($4). At any point if you need a palate cleanser, it’s here. Raki, a Turkish anise liqueur that turns milky-white when mixed with water, is like cold lightning going down your throat.
In a phone conversation, Colakoglu talked about chicken – how chef Akea’s chicken (breast or thigh, no difference) locks in moisture. I think of this as I’m tasting the pistachio- and apricot-stuffed breast, the texture so delicate that it’s like pâté – lovely ($14). The lamb shoulder has an exacting presentation, slices that show off the complexity of the ingredients. The shoulder is flattened, stuffed with ground lamb and beef, as well as spinach, pistachios and onion. The creation is rolled, then baked. It’s more fragile than the chicken, with a silky texture ($18).
The lamb shank is fall comfort food. Braised with tomato and onion, the marbled, intensely moist hunk of meat is surrounded by a thin wrapper of eggplant ($16). The salmon is a simple, tender grilled thick-cut filet served with a trace of butter and lemon ($16). The choice of starch for all the entrées is Turkish rice (the version with currants, dill and cinnamon is swell) or bulghur wheat, a dense tomato-green pepper mixture that tastes like Spanish rice.
Tulip’s baklava is the way I like it – with many light, flaky layers of buttery phyllo dough and a modest honey and ground pistachio filling ($4). Not gooey, not cloyingly sweet. It’s the role of Turkish coffee, boiled three times, to send a powerful final impression.
Tulip leaves a strong impression, too – a worldly impression. Which is good for Milwaukee.
Tulip, 117 N. Jefferson St. (corner of Erie and Milwaukee streets), 414-273-5252. Hours: L Mon-Fri 11 a.m.-2 p.m. D Mon-Thurs 5-10 p.m.; Fri-Sat 5-11 p.m. B Sun 11 a.m.-2 p.m. Prices: appetizers $4-$15; soups/salads $3-$6; entrées $12-$21; desserts $4. Service: friendly, helpful, interested in the cuisine. Dress: It’s up to you. Credit cards: M V A DS. Smoking: only at the bar. Handicap access: Call ahead. Outdoor patio: yes. Reservations: recommended.
