In Turkish, "kismet" means destiny or fate. However, Serkan Çetin's journey to opening Kismet Mediterranean Grill was far from simple and serendipitous. The building on Burlington's Battery Street was completely gutted when he received the keys, despite its previous use as Esperanza Restaurante, which closed in January 2019.
"We had to buy everything brand-new: the burners, the walk-in fridge, new carpet, all the sinks. Everything," Çetin said.
Once it was all in place, Kismet opened on August 6 with a delightful menu of mezze platters, kebabs, seafood and other traditional Turkish dishes. Çetin, 28, and his uncle, Ali Varlik, own the restaurant; Çetin's parents, Naciye and Veli, run the kitchen. None of the family members is new to the industry: They were employees at Burlington's Istanbul Kebab House for nearly 13 years prior to opening the restaurant, and Veli, Çetin's father, was the executive chef of the WOW Istanbul Hotel prior to moving to Vermont from Turkey's largest city in 2012.
Çetin has many early childhood memories of working in restaurants, he said, including busing tables, changing silverware and washing dishes. He moved to Vermont in 2014 with his mother and his sister, Duygu, and enrolled at Burlington High School.
"I spoke no English in the beginning, so I had to learn quickly," he said. While in school, Çetin was also a server at Istanbul Kebab House. He always dreamed of opening his own place and went on to study business at the Community College of Vermont.
The result of those dreams, Kismet Mediterranean Grill is an ode to Istanbul. Çetin's parents and uncle use family recipes and import spices and oil from Turkey. The menu includes a section dedicated to seafood, as Istanbul is a coastal city.
"It's real Turkish food, cooked by real Turkish people," Çetin said proudly. "The menu is completely traditional, but it's large. There is something for everyone."
I explored the 30-plus-dish menu on a Saturday night in mid-September. Even though it was rainy, the lake view out the large windows evoked that coastal connection. Next to me at the bar, a couple dove into the large European sea bass ($25.99). Elsewhere in the dining room, a small family sat next to businessmen with laptops, and a group of family friends laughed and spoke Turkish over full glasses of wine and empty plates.
I started my meal with the Kismet salatasi ($12.99), simple mixed greens with a bright vinaigrette. Next came lavash ($1.99), an airy, seeded bread, alongside smoky baba ghanoush ($8.99). In between bartending, managing and hosting, Çetin insisted that I pair my appetizers with a glass of Syrah ($8), one of many Turkish wines offered. The generous pour perfectly complemented the starters.
The Beyti kebab ($23.99), named after a restaurant owner in Istanbul, was a showstopper. The homey ground lamb was wrapped in lavash with a spicy tomato sauce and a punchy garlic yogurt, served with a side of pickled vegetables.
In a world of constant restaurant innovation, there is something refreshing about Kismet's white linen tablecloths, salt and pepper shakers, and crisply folded napkins. It's classic with no attempt at trendiness.
"Young people see white tablecloths and think it's expensive and fancy," Çetin said. But the restaurant defies that stereotype, especially at lunch, which "is a lot more casual and cheaper," he continued. "It's both for the businesspeople and the young people."
I returned to Kismet a few afternoons later for lunch with a friend. The dining room was largely empty at 1 p.m., but there was still a buzzing energy, with music seeping from the kitchen into the dining room. We were ravenous after a long hike and immediately dug into the small cold mezze platter ($14.99): hummus, baba ghanoush, Turkish salsa, haydari and stuffed grape leaves with a side of lavash.
The haydari, a refreshing yogurt dip made with garlic and herbs, stole the show — I would have swapped out most of the dips in exchange for more. The acidic yogurt and the fatty olive oil swirled together in a perfect marriage.
My doner kebab lunch ($14.99) featured vertical rotisserie beef served with bulgur, sumac onions and pickled vegetables. My friend ordered the chicken Adana kebab lunch ($13.99), with grilled skewers of seasoned ground chicken, a side of rice and slightly blistered tomatoes. The beef could have come from an urban kebab stand — it was far from elegant but comforting in its predictability. The lunch portions were dinner size, and while we were not waxing poetic about the food, its simplicity and sustenance were satisfying.
This is just the beginning for Çetin. "I just love it," he said. "My dream is to keep expanding."