Troy Meze bar- City Road, Cardiff

As old whatsername once said: It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a carnivorous man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a chargrill.

 And when stalking Cardiff's Kebab Mile on City Road, where the grill is so often the centrepiece of the process, certain places stand out. And the good news is, some of the best value is to be had in these places, so the fortune thing above kinda becomes moot.

Which is nice.

Which brings me to Troy.

The takeaway menu cuts you no slack at all: it expects you to know your Bildircin from your elbow, and indeed from your Arnavut Cigeri. The eat-in selection is a little kinder to the less expert diner however, by which I mean me.

 

Sometimes- and I apologise to regular readers who eschew flesh- but sometimes, all you want to do is chew on singed bits of animal. There's something beguiling about having it cooked in front of you, the smells wafting out and heightening anticipation. This is not elegant dining- though the cosy set-up at Troy means you're almost in cook's lap as he sits at the waist-high bars of the grill (is this the City Road version of the Chef's Table, I wonder...?).  It's social and sociable food. Food to get stuck into.

Sesame-seeded bread is fresh and hot and plentiful: the main risk here is the Turkish equivalent of the old 'Poppadom Peril' whereby valuable meat-holding capacity is stealthily compromised by overindulgence in starchy sides. The sauces- a thick yoghurt and mint, and a chilli purée best described as 'assertive'- were excellent.

More is offered throughout the meal though the service is unobtrusive and low-key enough to let you just get stuck in and enjoy. There's a limited selection of alcohol on offer, so we went for Efes. Efes- beloved of Liverpool fans since Istanbul (not Constantinople) 2005 and the best comeback since Lazarus. They helped some rather good stuffed green olives down a treat.

And get stuck in you must. This is roll up your sleeves, get your hands and fingers and cheeks messy with sauces and juices. This not polite food, though there's something damn pleasant about the communal sharing of baskets of bread and proffered meze and ribs and wings and dips. It's in-the-moment food. Presentation, though neat enough, is functional rather than aesthetic and the focus is always going to be on the fruit of the grill.

 Ultimately there's no benefit in cooking food this way unless there's palpable evidence in the eating. But at Troy you're in safe hands.

Chicken kofte was piping hot and herby; chicken shish as tender as you'd expect and the lamb ribs an object lesson in letting the strip of fat char just the right amount on the bars of that grill. Excellent.

The highlight was the quail, however. Sweet, yielding meat just begging to be picked as clean as polite company will allow. And then sneaking another pick while no-one's looking.

Troy won't change your life. You won't gain Look At Me points by eating there. But if you're in the area, are in the mood for a relaxed eat and you fancy the pleasures of the grill, you won't go very far wrong.