Cafe Advieh, 71B Gamon St, Seddon. Phone: 0432 241 276

More often than not, Bennie gets over-ridden when it comes to choosing where we go to eat.

He’s a bit of a homebody at heart, so his dad’s wandering eye often has his eyes rolling.

He tolerates with good humour my restless adventuring.

But, really, instead of the long haul to Coburg or Deer Park – or even Sunshine or Moonee Ponds – he’d generally stay at home or within walking distance.

Today he gets his way – and we have a spectacularly fine lunch as a result.

We’d taken Cafe Advieh for a review outing early in its life, and have been back periodically – mostly ordering what we had the first time, the mixed grill plate.

Today we take a different tack.

Bennie’s small dips platter ($10.50) looks rather modest in size but does the job.

He likes the two stuffed vine leaves, preferring them unheated as they as they hold their form better.

He likes all the dips, but rates the eggplant number the highest.

I try it – and as on previous visits am knocked out.

This coarsely textured take on a classic is simply wonderful, with a robust smokiness.

The serving of toasted Turkish bread is in correct proportion to the amount of dipping fodder, and that’s even with dad filching some to have with his meal. He lets me eat most of the kalamata olives, too!

This puts to shame the lacklustre dips platters served at so many cafes.

My zucchini plate ($14.50) has more of the same very good hummus and yogurt, cucumber and dill.

The latter goes well with my zucchini fritter.

This, too, is unheated and all the better for it. It’s quite wide but rather thin, nicely salty, and its unheated stature gives it a nice leathery chewiness. Leathery in a totally good way!

My two salad choices are amazingly, lip-smackingly fine.

The coleslaw is not so much slaw in the common mayo meaning of the word but more a regularly dressed salad. Its mix of two types of cabbage, onion and carrot is homely, crunchy, heavy with lemon and utterly moreish.

So often I’ve been served – often, surprisingly, in kebab places that should know better and care more – tabbouleh that is an unappetising jumble of dry, undressed parsley and bulgar.

As far as I’m concerned – and based somewhat on repeated makings of the version found in Claudia Roden’s Arabesque – it should be damp almost to the point of dripping wet.

As it is here, with even more of a lemon accent than the coleslaw.

On the evidence of this lunch and others, Cafe Advieh has mastered the terrific trick turning out food that is refined but also has more than a few rough edges.

That is likewise reflected in a slice of tremendous house baklava ($4) with which I reward Bennie for making such a great lunch call. As on previous visits, it’s luscious and heavily scented with individually identifiable spices.

As a friend sitting at an adjacent table – Hi, Peter! – remarks, this is Middle Eastern food that seems less like restaurant fare and more like home cooking.

71B Gamon St, Seddon. Phone: 0432 241 276

A LATER REVIEW APPEARS HERE.

What seems like a long time ago, Gamon St coffees, brekkies and even lunches were a central ingredient for us.

Lifetsyle changes mean we hardly ever do the brekkie thing these days, though coffee – hot chocolate for him – is still a big deal.

Truth is, cafes of the order found in Gamon St simply aren’t part of our routine – we find our coffee well enough at food places that more match our current yearnings for spice and aroma and exotica of various kinds.

Gamon St, mind you, gets travelled by us so frequently – at least once a day – that it is as familiar as any other aspect of our westie habits.

So much so that we hardly notice it.

It is only thanks to a visit to the street’s barber shop that we learn of a Significant Event in our very own neighbourhood.

As my locks are shorn and Bennie and I are discussing our Saturday lunch options, the barber says: “Why don’t you try the Moroccan place that’s opened next door?”

As my head shave winds up, Bennie returns from a scouting mission: “It looks good – they’ve got Lebanese pies!”

Moroccan? Lebanese pies?

Turns out Advieh is more your all-purpose purveyor of a wide range of Mediterranean-style goodies, with a strong Middle eastern element.

The restaurant inhabits a building that for most locals will be known as the former premises of the pet shop that these days lives further down the road, next to the wedding place.

The staff tell us the building had barely been touched for about 100 years when they took over, so a major update was required.

It looks grand – polished wooden floors, funky old chairs and tables of the wooden variety, colourful tiles.

When we visit, Advieh – I’m told it’s a Persian word for “spice” or “spice mix” – has been open for four days.

I reckon it’s already a smash hit.

There’s a breakfast menu that has some non-Mediterranean staples, along with the likes of scrambled eggs with Turkish bread, roasted tomatoes, halloumi, olives and cucumber.

Despite the fact the non-breakfast menu is split into sections such as antipasto, wraps, pastry, focaccia, salads and “meals”, it seems many of these are variations deftly put together from the contents of the great-looking display cabinet.

We order the mixed grill plate ($17), having been assured by the staff that it’s just about right for two moderately hungry chaps.

They are right – the photo doesn’t really convey the depth and quality of our wonderful repast, which is a riot of colours and tastes.

On our plate are …

Salads: A fine tabouli; a fantastic Mediterranean mix of spinach and beautifully cut capsicum, green onion, cucumber, tomato; a couscous studded with chick peas.

Meats: A single skewer of tasty grilled chicken and two superb rissoles that burst with cumin-infused flavour.

Dips: Tzataziki, crunchy with finely diced cucumber cubes and perfumed with dill; a funky, earthy beetroot dip requested as an extra by us and served as a side dish.

The flat bread accompanying is quite different from routine, commercial pita bread – it’s quite a bit thicker without being the least bit doughy. Not that it matters – for, like everything else about our lunch, it’s tremendous.

The only surprise, given the nature and heritage of the food, is that there isn’t a more pronounced zing from lemon and garlic. But given the quality and refined flavours before us, that is not a complaint.

Conservatively ordering a single dish to share allows wriggle room in our lunch budget to indulge in a sweetie treat.

Along with good latte and hot chocolate ($3.20 each) comes a slice of baklava ($3.50).

It’s rustic, moist, heavily spiced and easy on the fork.

Halfway through our respective halves, I lean across the table and whisper to Bennie: “Mate, this the best baklava I’ve ever had!”

Our lunch clocks in at a few cents over $27, which we consider to be a super dooper bargain.