Long before Melbourne learnt to sit in cafes for poached eggs and flat whites, the Turks had perfected the art of breakfast, a parade of sunny terraces, stray cats lurking, and tables laden with bread, cheese, jam, olives, cucumber and tomato – at a minimum.

It's the feeling as much as the food: a settled understanding that each morning should be greeted with some small ceremony, a gathering of focus before activity, a slow, steady, decision-free fuelling before the tumble of the day.

Kofte Grill Bar, a newish bayside restaurant, does a great job with Turkish flavours but it's even more impressive that they nail the leisurely pacing.

Weekend brunching in Melbourne can be a little harried: the queue in front of you is chased by an awareness of the queue behind you, the hangry folk death-staring your second coffee.

Such pressure is unknown here. In fact, I was gently advised to slow down by one of the owners when I tried to order Turkish coffee after an hour of feasting. "How about you finish this, then we clear up, and we reset for coffee," he suggested kindly. Perfect idea, and not only because it meant room to lay down baklava.

Kofte Grill Bar is a heartfelt project by childhood friends Serif Altay and Salih Gazi. Altay has run cafes and fruit shops in the area; Gazi has a hospitality background in Bodrum, a holiday town on the Aegean. Over lockdown, they cooked up the idea of bringing a taste of Turkey to Mentone and they opened in the tricky winter of 2021.

The slim shop has been lovingly decorated with leadlight lamps, rugs, cushions and protective evil eyes.

Tea is served in traditional double-decker "caydanlik" with one chamber for water and the other for brewing. Coffee arrives in a charming hand-etched set Altay has on long loan from his parents.

So to breakfast or, more specifically, the Sultan's Breakfast, a banquet that arrives in stages. As always in Turkey, tea comes first. That's followed by chopped cucumber and tomato, stewed peppers, three different white cheeses, a meat platter with pastirma (dried beef), dried fruit and nuts.

Oh, there's more. Cream and honey and tahini. Jams and butter. Simit (sesame-studded bread rings), fried "pisi" bread pillows and fresh pide.

There's more. Olives, halva, molasses, acuka (an intense tomato and pepper paste).

You thought I'd finished? Then come the hot dishes: menemen, a rough-baked omelette with soft peppers, and sucuk, a spicy beef sausage, cooked up with eggs. And still, I feel like I've forgotten something.

How to deal with such bounty? You pick, mix, ask for more bread, have one more walnut-stuffed fig. You talk, sip tea, nibble, turn it all into rubble. Above all, you relax and feel the love.

Later in the day, there are grills, dips and savoury pastries. I will return for all that. But for now, I'm still glowing from eating like a Sultan, ruling with languid benevolence over the sovereign domain of breakfast.

Sultan's Breakfast: $32 per person (minimum 2 people, weekends only, bookings advised)