Is Ruya Your Regular Turkish Restaurant? Not Even Close
- GirlWellTravelled
- Mar 13, 2022
- 5 min read
Updated: May 9
Looking for a Turkish restaurant in Mayfair with live music and late-night flair?
Pull up on a side street just off Park Lane because this isn’t your average post-midnight bite.
When your sister restaurant overlooks Dubai Marina, you don’t exactly do casual. And Rüya London is no exception.
For lovers of modern Turkish cuisine, I’ll direct you to a fancy corner in W1K 7 Mayfair, home to this swanky spot.
I never need to be asked twice about going out to eat. OK, maybe sometimes! But when the link to Rüya's website opened, this wasn't one of those times. I'm summering up a Mediterranean/Middle Eastern-inspired outfit complete with gladiator sandals in my head. Despite it being a biting three degrees celsius out.
But some good sense prevails, and later, I am instead grooving to the upbeat rhythms of
Cheryl Lynn's Shake It Up Tonight as I step into a pair of six-inch gold heels. A cobalt blue mini shift dress finishes the elegant ensemble.
After all, I'm heading to W1K 7.
We're on time.
Mr PWT declares, entering the doors.
We aren't. We are an entire stroll down Park Lane, around the block of J W Marriott Grosvenor Hotel and back, ahead of time. His Greenwich Mean timing wreaking havoc with my West Indian ways.
Nevertheless, we are seated in The Mekan BAR, with a sleek view of the main restaurant and a private dining area across the floor.
The drinks menu is ready but I already know my order. I've already speed dated their Specialty cocktails online and committed to a red dusted champagne glass.
Ruya Restaurant's Anatolian Fizz
Gin, rose syrup, raspberry, lemon and bubbles served in a carmine-red, sugar-dusted champagne glass. Sweet, zesty, and Instagram-ready.
Instead take a sip of Mr PWT's Ottoman Old Fashioned. There take on the classic drink, Old Fashioned. It's subtler than usual. We put that down to the choice of Bourbon. Garnished with a date instead of citrus peel, it’s a nod to heritage. Bold? Maybe not. Memorable? Yes.
I'm not allowed more of his, but I think I have at least captured one attention-seeking photo, and I turn to mine. It's fizzy, alright, zesty too, despite that it's the booze-dust-tang that leaves lips smacking.
Central to the restaurant's look is a gilt light feature. I’m eyeing the Australian blue opal table under the show-stopping gilded light fixture, though I call it Anatolian blue in my head. To my 'Turkish delight..,' it is our table.
Except someone felt it was (I daren't say), and we instead take up our covert operations at another table.
The menu promises a food journey across the seven regions of Anatolia. My brain wants to investigate the seven, whereas my stomach desires to make this an all-you-can-eat menu.
I LIKE everything I see, though eating everything on the menu is not an option—dietary restrictions in place. The need to fit into an Elie Saab dress I passed in his Boutique's window on route here (when that time comes) formed part of those restrictions. Nonetheless, grilled octopus, lamb, beef and vegetables escape the restraints.
A sizzling sujuk pide too escapes those restraints. Hot and fresh from the open house bakery immediately in front us. It is classic but oh so cheesy, spicy and moreish.
Two plates arrive but one makes an entrance. The aroma hits first, then the visuals, then taste. It’s the Adana kebab, a spicy, flavour-packed lamb skewer wrapped in thin, buttery bread. Definitely a posh kebab contender.
The grilled octopus is tender in its rich sauce but the kebab steals the show. We're silent, too focused on the flavours.
Dishes now cleared, I am almost disappointed, but precedence has been set. I am currently looking forward to the short ribs and the Güveç, a clay pot of slow-cooked vegetables.
Stewed for twenty-four hours.
A subtle Canadian accent reiterates from Japanese features as she places the plates down. Her name, Eniko, but she is from neither of these places.
Meanwhile, our sommelier, Filippo and Mr PWT successfully outwitted each other over the wine selection. At thirteen pages long, the challenge is to stay sober. Still, they settle on a Vourla, a Turkish red from, Urla Vineyards.
He tries it.
It's drinkable. He says
What does that mean?
It is good. He replies, nose still over the glass.
Red goes to my head; I dare not try it, but I like the bottle and it gets my vote. Laughing a little loud.
An oversized dish of ribs and bubbling hot Güveç share table space with a pistachio pilav rice and a cluster of small plates. I'm grateful for the latter, as I definitely have eyes on the short ribs I didn’t order.
They're chunky, tender, and glazed with Turkish chili BBQ sauce. Not fiery, but deeply flavourful. Still, I shift loyalties temporarily to the clay pot of vegetables. Earthy, warm, satisfying.
I take a chunk of the ribs. It's chunky alright, has potential and though the chili in the Turkish chili BBQ glaze is not as bold, it is not bland either. Plates like this keep me a carnivore though I now turn to my clay pot of vegetables.
It is good, comforting but insufficient for me to shift loyalties anytime soon.
Along with my gut, the crowd is growing. A smart, young, enlivened set and a Dolby-level atmosphere.
I am enjoying, too, the interiors. A blend of contemporary flair with Turkish heritage. Gilt accents, Anatolian colours, rich textures.
Meanwhile, Eniko, Filippo and Mr. PWT keep the table laughing. Me, near embarrassingly loud, belly fulls of it—the hospitality, heartfelt here.
Dessert? Baklava, obviously.
Served with whipped kaymak and a scoop of caramelised milk sorbet—it’s crunchy, creamy and divine. The sesame seed ice cream, a wildcard suggestion from Eniko, is... memorable. Maybe not for everyone.
A mouthful and I want the rest. Crunchy bites of filo pastry and hazelnut become creamy mouthfuls of goodness alongside the whipped kaymak, caramelised milk sorbet it's served with. The sharing plates are now a disadvantage.
The bill arrives. No tap. We enter the PIN and remind ourselves: we’re in W1K 7, after all.
I like it at Rüya and from 20:30 on a Saturday, the Mekan Bar invites guests to a lively music sesh. Much like these other restaurants with live music I’ve reviewed.
Rüya isn't just baklava, kofte and kebabs. It's a refined Turkish dining experience with thoughtful details and sincere service.
Do you like Turkish food? Have you been to Rüya? Then, let's engage in the comments section below.
Address: 30 Upper Grosvenor St, London W1K 7PH
Website: https://ruyarestaurants.com
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