The first page of the menu in Layla's makes a point of reminding us that the Mediterranean doesn't stop at Sicily. It's a fair point, when menus speak of Mediterranean food they mostly mean a fusion of Italian, French and Spanish. Yet the eastern shores of the Med is home to a very distinct cuisine, a style that you can find in Lebanon, Turkey and in part in Greece. Yoghurt and lamb figures largely, as do aubergine, mint, chick peas and spices. There are dishes here with a pedigree of millennia, whose roots stretch back to Byzantium and beyond.

Of these three cuisines, I've enjoyed Lebanese food enormously over the years and there's even a Lebanese restaurant in Dublin if you feel tempted to try it out. Generally speaking Greek food has left me unimpressed, I've tried it here in Ireland, in London, on mainland Greece, on Ionian islands and on Aegean islands, so it's not from lack of trying. In fairness, I once got an truly exceptional meal on the tiny island of Ithaca in a restaurant called 'Polyphemus', named after the one-eyed Cyclops faced by Ulysses, but then you need an exception to prove a rule.

Until this week I don't think I've knowingly eaten Turkish food, notwithstanding childish mouthfuls of Haji Bey's. But if you were to pass along Pembroke Street you couldn't miss the large, billowing pennon above 'The Pembroke' bar, which boldly announces the presence of 'Layla's Turkish Restaurant.' For those of you with long memories, this is where the idiosyncratic restaurant 'The Pembroke' used to be.

Upstairs you find two rooms with a lot fewer tables in them than there used to be. Now there's no cramping, there's loads of space between the tables. I was there with my daughter Isabella and her fella, Mayo man Dave O'Hara, on a pleasant evening with a balmy breeze. I mention this because the waiter who greeted us suggested we might like to eat outside. We followed him through the two rooms and out onto a split-level deck where the last of the evening sun was shining. 'Definitely here', chimed Isabella and I in unison.

On the deck you look out across the rear of the Georgian houses and what were once their very large back gardens. The sun was low in the sky and its orange rays lit up the brick façades giving the houses a warm glow. We basked in the gloaming and read through the menu. We decided that we'd pick dishes that looked the most Turkish - a brave decision from Mayoman Dave, who's not by nature adventurous in his eating habits. From the appetisers we picked out çaçik, hellim and the Layla dip. For the main courses we chose sizzled meat balls, beyti and bursa - which all looked suitably different and Turkish.

There's a very basic wine list of six wines which were all reasonably priced, but we all felt the urge for beer instead, two bottles of Carlsberg and a Heineken. Before the starters arrived we got a plate of nibbles - some olives, some lavache - unleavened bread - and a dip. This kept us happy till the starters arrived. Now çaçik may look unfamiliar written down, but it's pronounced jajik, which makes it sound similar to tadziki, which is what it was: grated cucumber, natural yoghurt, mint and olive oil blended together to make a clean and refreshing starter. The hellim was tasty; small pieces of grilled halloumi cheese served with olives and tomatoes. The Layla dip was made of barbecued aubergine blended with tahini and garlic, and it had a robustly smoky taste. After this it became clearer that although the dishes sounded strange and foreign, actually they're not so different from what you may have already tasted in Greece.

Our main course turned out to be variations on a theme. Bella's sizzled meat balls were smallish rounds of minced lamb, flavoured with cumin and cardamom and cooked over an open flame. Dave's beyti was also made of minced lamb, but this time it was flavoured with herbs and hit had been rolled in lavache bread and then served in slices, like a Swiss roll. I'd picked the bursa, and my minced lamb came as two long pieces that looked exactly like skinless sausages. It was flavoured with chilli, and it had just about exactly the right amount of bite to make me happy. These dishes were all simple but tasty and came with some pilav rice and sliced uncooked peppers as garnish. If the peppers had been cooked I would have eaten them, but uncooked I find them indigestible.

By the time we'd come to the end of this leisurely meal it had become a little bracing outside, so we decided to go indoors for coffee. It was when we got our coffee that we met Elvis. You may have though that he was dead, but I can tell you that he's reincarnated in the guise a young Turk, Imir Çat, who served us our coffees along with renderings of 'Love me Tender' and 'Are You Lonesome Tonight'. He's a serious Elvis, he even showed us his white sequinned costume that he wore during the burger years in Vegas. These days he wears it only in concerts - obviously not while he's waiting at tables.

Before we left, Insel the charming proprietress read Bella's fortune from the grounds in her Turkish coffee. Apparently she has much to look forward to in October, so we left feeling happy. Layla's is friendly and welcoming, the food is simple and tasty and the prices don't hurt. The bill for the three of us and five beers came to €110.15.