Normally, you don't drink with kebabs, because if you're queuing at the kebab shop late at night, you've probably already had a skinful. But here at Tombik, you can pull up a velvet-clad stool at a glossy backlit bar, and order cocktails by the glass or by the jug. Or a refreshing Efes pilsener or potent raki. Or Turkish reds, whites and rosé by the glass, 500ml jug or bottle.

That's just one of the contradictions at Tombik, the newly arrived Barangaroo kebab bar from the Efendy group, headed up by Turkish chef Somer Sivrioglu and group executive chef Arman Uz.

Here's another. For a food concept built around those two great reasons to live – bread and meat – the menu is strong on vegetables. The vegie platter ($28) is a metre long, and barely fits on the table at this new slow/fast Barangaroo kebab joint.

It's great, whether you're vego or not, because it comes with almost everything you were going to order anyway – hummus, baba ghanoush and beetroot labna, pickled chillies, green-hearted falafel with tahini for dipping, roasted baby eggplant, deep-fried (and somewhat oily) cauliflower, crisp cos leaves and cucumber, plus loads of fresh herbs and a scattering of pomegranate arils. Generous, bright and fresh, it's enough for two or three people.

But wait, you have to have tombik ($10), the big round puff of wood-fired, stone-baked bread traditionally served with doner kebap (aka kebab) in Turkey. Note the crisp outside, steamy, light inside, thanks to that mounded round of copper-clad wood-fired oven in the corner.

An all-day kebab diner is not your usual Good Food review, but Somer Sivrioglu and Arman Uz are two of the country's most inspired Turkish chefs.

The Efendy group, with co-owner Tarik Koni, also runs Anason, a meyhane (tavern) in Barangaroo; Maydanoz in the city; and this year, a new Efendy in Istanbul. Tombik is part of their mission to elevate Turkish food, this time starting at street level.

More contradictions: you order by QR code on your device, and help yourself to water, but the food is brought to you by hospitable staff on real plates, not in cardboard boxes. It's not even particularly fast, for supposedly fast food.

And instead of a chef wielding long knives to slice the layered, roasted meat from the slowly spinning vertical rotisserie, there is a robot. Yes, A.I. has entered the kebab shop. Is nothing sacred? The Atalay automatic doner-slicing machine, guided by sensors, glides gracefully up and down, slicing as it goes, monitored by Tombik head chef Kong Tjung for thickness of cut, speed and rotation.

After much testing, the team settled on a 70:30 mix of Angus beef (bolar blade and knuckle) and lamb belly. Have it sliced onto a platter of Iskender kebab ($26) with bready croutons, tomato sauce, yoghurt and Turkish chilli, or as "just kebab" ($14), with a clutch of sharply pickled chillies on the side. The meat's fine, possibly a bit dry. It feels healthy, even. Another contradiction.

For quick meals, there's a big, two-hander of pocket bread ($18), halved and stuffed to bursting with layers of lettuce, tomato, herbs, onion, pickles and shredded meat.

It's even better stuffed with crunchy falafel, their bright green hearts soft with fava beans. (This is set to give the lunchtime banh mi rolls around the corner a run for their money.)

Slabs of pistachio baklava ($4) sit on the bar, elevated from the sweet and heavy to the fresh and light courtesy of a local master baker from Gaziantep, not coincidentally the home of Turkey's finest pistachios.

The food at Tombik is good, fresh, bright and generous; prices are fair, and you can keep it snappy, or lay out a feast.

Rather than come in for a destination dinner, flag it for an office lunch with mates, post-theatre, or a quick refuel after a day in town, Monday to Friday. Or, because they're open until 11pm, after a skinful.

The low-down

Vibe Designer kebab joint in glossy cocktail bar

Go-to dish Vegie platter, $28

Drinks Turkish, Lebanese, Greek and local beers, jugs of cocktails and a clutch of good Turkish wines. Also Turkish coffee.

Terry Durack is chief restaurant critic for The Sydney Morning Herald and senior reviewer for the Good Food Guide.