Best of all is lamb shawarma ($8), lamb shank braised with cumin and red wine till it’s melting, spread with labne (strained yogurt) mixed with sesame tahini—like mayo gone to heaven—and folded crêpe-style in veil-thin Lebanese flatbread. Sortun adds sweet-and-sour braised cabbage, reminiscent of sauerkraut on a street vendor’s sausage sub, only fresh and a lot better. I thought I’d break off a little piece to taste when I got home. I kept licking the delicate meat and the labne-tahini spread off my fingers till there was no supper left.

I should acknowledge that Sofra is out of my usual review range. There’s no table service, and what tables you’ll find are copper drums of the kind seen in Middle Eastern cafés, with carpet-covered benches along the wall and low molded-wood benches stacked for ad hoc seating ("sofra" is an Arabic word for a picnic or a rug). The café, geared toward breakfast and lunch, closes at 8. But the distinctive style is new and deserves special attention, and the farm link merits both attention and emulation—the other local trailblazers in that category are Lionette’s in the South End, and City Feed in Jamaica Plain, and they could use some company.

Some of the meze offerings at Sofra ($3/bowl, $9/platter of five), like beet tzatziki, bean and walnut pâté, and (fabulous) smoky eggplant purée with pine nuts, are familiar from Oleana. But others are new, including the bean plaki. Osorno has an innate knack for beans; the accompanying simmered tomatoes and carrots are so sweet they taste like candy. (I devoured two plastic takeout containers of plaki, also meant for supper.)

The frequent sweet-savory mix shows especially well in the cheese börek ($7), the ubiquitous Turkish pie you buy in squares cut from big sheet pans. Sheets of yufka are layered with an egg-milk mixture and cubes of fresh mozzarella made in Somerville by Lourdes Fiore Smith (she delivers regularly, and you can buy several of her cheeses from the grocery case). As Sortun notes, it’s a lot like kugel.

Kilpatrick, who oversees the kitchen, has been given free rein with pastry, and she, too, straddles the sweet-savory line, soaking pieces of brioche in espresso sugar ($3 each) for breakfast or sprinkling a brioche roll with sesame and za’atar to go with soup. Homemade croissants (a bit heavy and buttery for me) have either za’atar ($2.50) or chocolate ($3) inside; Kilpatrick even makes crackers ($1 for two), which are like a big fresh version of those buttery Dutch cheese crackers in tins. Her take on the Oreo—called a "Maureo" ($1.50)—is square and filled with milk jam, something like dulce de leche, and, of course, there are several phyllo-wrapped pastries and baklava, including the one that has become her bestseller: chocolate-hazelnut with cocoa honey ($4). My favorite was a flaky turnover made from a rugelach-rich cream cheese dough and filled with pumpkin preserves ($4). Whenever the cashier put out samples—and, luckily, there are a lot of free samples—the dish’s contents vanished in what seemed like seconds. (I think I was blocking the register.) As with that lamb shawarma I unwrapped for just a moment, I’m not quite sure how it all disappeared.