Williamsburg’s dining scene has a new destination for Turkish and Mediterranean fare, right next to the heart of campus: Seven Hills, which opened Saturday, July 18 on Prince George Street. Named for the seven hills of Istanbul, Turkey, the restaurant brings traditional dishes to a city better known for its pancake houses and colonial taverns than for kebabs and mezze. For students like me, craving something beyond the usual Cheese Shop and Oishii rotation, it might just be the perfect fit.
From the minute you walk into Seven Hills’ intimate dining room, you are greeted by friendly waitstaff, the warm scents of cumin and sumac and a pastry case filled with baklava, including chocolate and walnut variations. Even the restaurant’s sounds feel thoroughly authentic as Turkish music softly plays over the buzz of waiters and kitchen staff conversing in the language.
I arrived at Seven Hills at around 7:45 p.m. on a Thursday expecting an easy walk-in given that it was a relatively late dinner hour on a weeknight. However, I was met with a packed dining room and an estimated twenty-minute wait. While my dining companion and I were seated after closer to ten minutes, I’d recommend a reservation in hindsight, especially if visiting on a weekend. Though the smaller-sized dining room may have exacerbated our wait time, it was more than worth it thanks to the cozy atmosphere it offered, coupled with ambient lighting and exposed brick walls that fit right in with typical Williamsburg aesthetics.
While Seven Hills’ service moves at its own pace, it is in a way that makes you want to slow down too. Our server was friendly and attentive without constantly checking in on us, giving us the space to enjoy our meal at our own pace. Frequent check-ins have their place, but there’s something to be said for service that lets you savor each dish and the company you’re with without ever feeling rushed.
We started with drinks, and, in a joint effort to try as many Turkish dishes as possible, my dining companion ordered an “original” flavor Turkish soda while I had the Turkish coffee. To the typical American palate, the soda title was a bit misleading, as we were served an imported Beypazari-brand drink that resembled more of an unflavored sparkling water. However, it was still plenty refreshing and a nice respite from our spicy main courses. My Turkish coffee came in a small traditional coffee cup and a matching saucer called a kahve fincanı and was accompanied by a warning from our waiter to avoid drinking the coffee grounds at the cup’s bottom.
Turkish coffee is traditionally prepared in a small, long-handled pot called a cezve and heated, with a dash of sugar, until a foam forms and the remaining grounds settle at the bottom of the pot. This process creates a very strong, very caffeinated concoction that our waiter warned me was, in his words, “not my favorite.” As an avid lover of dark roast black coffee, however, I deeply enjoyed its bitter, smoky notes and intense, unfiltered espresso bean flavor and drained the small cupful in a flash.
As we moved on to entreés, my dining companion and I decided to ask our waiter for recommendations due to our admittedly limited knowledge of Turkish cuisine, and we were enthusiastically advised to order the beyti kebab. We also tacked on an order of sucuk pide from the flatbreads section of the menu.
From the second the beyti kebab made its way to our table, I knew that I was in for a satisfying meal thanks to its bright colors and clean presentation. Beyti kebab, as I learned, is a classic Turkish dish featuring ground lamb wrapped in lavash, a type of flatbread, and smothered in tomato sauce and yogurt. The lamb was moist and tender with a deliciously warm spice of cumin and paprika. On top was a bright and garlicky tomato sauce that complemented the flavors of the lamb and a yogurt sauce that perfectly cut through the fatty, savory meal. I so enjoyed the beyti that, upon having my first bite, I exclaimed to my companion that it was one of the best things I’d tasted all summer.
Our second entreé, the sucuk pide, was tasty as well but certainly less notable than the beyti. The dish consisted of a boat-shaped, pizza-like dough topped with melted, stretchy mozzarella cheese and sucuk sausage with a surprisingly spicy kick that cut through the cheese’s richness. While it lacked some of the complexity of the beyti, it was still a plenty satisfying dish for anyone who enjoys a little spice.
Overall, Seven Hills is a spot that will easily make you lose track of time thanks to its combination of bold flavors, family-sized portions and laid-back atmosphere. For a restaurant that has only recently opened its doors, Seven Hills already feels confident in what it wants to be and lets its food, atmosphere and hospitality speak for themselves. We left replaying the flavors of the meal out loud to each other and wishing we’d left room for baklava.
