Unshowy mastery at Kontuar Pera

EBRU ERKE

Kontuar Pera is a restaurant that impresses not by turning open fire into a spectacle, but by quietly communicating mastery. A dream Mustafa Otar imagined years ago now comes to life around the fire in Beyoğlu.

Some restaurants begin not with a menu, but with instinct. The moment you step inside, you sense not so much what you will eat, but what kind of feeling awaits you. Kontuar Pera is exactly such a place. From the very first moment, the scent of fire, the rhythm of the space and the quiet seriousness of the kitchen convey a clear message: There is no show here, only craftsmanship. Mustafa Otar is not a chef who simply knows open fire; he is a chef who has a relationship with fire. His connection to it is not about technical adjustment, but about sensing the right moment. In this kitchen, cooking progresses through second-by-second decisions that demand patience and attention. You understand this when you see him checking a red mullet repeatedly, perhaps at intervals of mere seconds. At Kontuar, everything is shaped around the fire. From the organization of the kitchen to the precise moment dishes arrive at the table, this command defines the entire rhythm of the restaurant.

For a long time, Mustafa Otar did not have his own kitchen in Istanbul. After the Kilimanjaro period, he focused mainly on consultancy work, choosing to prioritize his craft rather than visibility. He fits the profile of a chef who does not socialize much, who stays out of the spotlight, working quietly and steadily. But at Kontuar Pera, there is something else: The fulfillment of a dream. A dream he sketched as a student back in 2008… Red brick walls, a kitchen revolving around fire and Beyoğlu. Today, years later, we are standing right inside that dream.

In this kitchen, the plates are simple. But simplicity is never a comfort zone for a chef; on the contrary, it is the greatest risk. Because the simpler the plate, the stronger the claim of the ingredient must be. Mustafa Otar is fully aware of this. Nearly all the key products on the menu arrive with their origin, their producer and their story. The lamb comes from Imroz. The fish is sourced directly from Çanakkale. The roe for the bottarga comes from Adana Karataş, prepared personally by the chef himself. The olive oil is from Edremit, Mustafa’s hometown — after all, for someone who truly understands good olive oil, no other option would make sense. These choices are not a romantic notion of “locality,” but a necessary demand for ingredient quality capable of carrying the kitchen’s simplicity.

When one thinks of an open-fire concept, a meat-heavy kitchen often comes to mind. Kontuar deliberately overturns this expectation. Here, the chef places particular emphasis on his mastery of fish. Moreover, all the fish used are line-caught. With its rich, fatty texture and precise cut, the tuna belly reaches a level of quality that is difficult to find even in the best Japanese restaurants in Istanbul today. Served alongside warm, fluffy sourdough bread, the Ayvacık butter gains depth through the addition of cured bonito, bringing salinity and umami together. The vegetable dishes deserve a separate mention. The young carrot is presented at one of the highest levels a vegetable can reach: Properly cooked in a stone oven, paired with an orange beurre blanc and fresh curd, with the right accompaniments and a narrative free of excess. The glazed beef tongue is first cooked in a stone oven, then glazed over the fire — patiently, without compromising its texture. Meanwhile, a lamb rack slowly rotating and cooking in one corner of the kitchen seems to wink at you: A dish that is never rushed, allowed to wait and served at precisely the right moment.

What Kontuar truly does is reestablish a balance that is increasingly being lost in today’s Istanbul dining scene. Here, plates do not shout for attention or chase unnecessary bravado; instead, they build a culinary language rooted in familiar flavors — one that does not exhaust the diner, yet gains depth through thoughtful details. Fire is not merely a cooking tool, but an element that carries emotion to the table. The warmth felt in the space finds its counterpart on the plate. For this reason, Kontuar is neither a display of technical prowess nor a chef’s showcase; it stands out as a kitchen that inspires trust, impresses through calmness and leaves a lasting impression.

An important pillar supporting Mustafa Otar on this journey is Erim Leblebicioğlu, also a partner at Neolokal. He carries the full operational responsibility, providing a professional backbone that clears the way for the kitchen. Moving forward with such operational intelligence appears to be a strong guarantee of Kontuar’s sustainability on every level.

Opened in Beyoğlu on the former site of NuPera, Kontuar Pera — together with Domingos, set to open very soon right next door — seems poised to draw back the “right crowd” that Beyoğlu has long been missing. Not through noise, but through quality. Not in haste, but over time. Kontuar Pera is a restaurant that speaks of fire without raising its voice — quiet, building its ambition on the plate and unfolding its culinary language over time. And perhaps this is exactly what this city needs most right now.