Ismet Bulut runs a tight ship in loose Dewey

At 5 a.m. on a Saturday morning in the middle of summer, there may not be a quieter place in the Cape Region than Dewey Beach.

It’s a time of day when the busy world seems to call a truce in the small beach town. Up-all-nighters are taking a breather, most of the time, and the neighbors next to the up-all-nighters are breathing a sigh of relief. Pedestrians aren’t lining Route 1’s sidewalk like ants on a trail, and cars aren’t crawling along on the four-lane highway like elephants on a migration path.

It’s a time of day when the Atlantic Ocean can actually be heard from Route 1.

It’s also the time of day when, for more than 30 years, Ismet Bulut, owner of Dewey’s Sunrise Restaurant, has been getting to work.

“Sometimes, he’ll be in there at 4:30 if he can’t sleep,” joked long-time employee Trisa Lewis. “This is his life.”

Sunrise Restaurant sits on the northeast, oceanside corner of Clayton Street and Route 1. It’s a no-nonsense business that has been serving Dewey’s breakfast and lunch crowds for decades. During the summer months, the restaurant opens at 6 a.m., which means Bulut can be seen from the street, through the restaurant’s large windows, preparing the day’s food by the light in the kitchen – like a beacon for the hungover and too-tired. When the rest of Dewey is sleeping, he’s chopping, flipping and stirring the food that will help the town wake up.

“He’s just an honest, honest hard-working man,” said Lewis.

Bulut, 67, declined to be interviewed for the portrait, but Lewis, who has been at the restaurant for 21 years, spoke on the restaurant’s behalf and filled in some of the details. Bulut is from Turkey and is one of 11 children. He knew he wanted to come to America from a young age, she said.

Bulut worked in restaurants in Ocean City and Washington, D.C., before settling in Dewey and opening Sunrise. More than anything, Lewis said, his previous work experience taught him what didn’t work.

Even before politely declining to be a part of the interview, it’s clear Bulut is a man of few words. He leads by example, methodically checking off the morning’s to-do list, only stopping to say good morning to employees as they come in. He’s not the type to rally the troops in the minutes before opening time on what will be a busy Saturday morning. He expects his employees to understand their roles, and only after those roles aren’t being completed is he going to say something.

Phone calls, smoke breaks, studying for tests, free food for employees, Lewes said, as long as people are doing their jobs, Bulut doesn’t bother them.

Lewis describes Bulut as the most honest, fair and toughest boss she’s ever worked for. The employees who have stuck it out and learned the restaurant’s system are family, she said, and Bulut will do whatever he can to help.

“He’s made such a difference in everyone’s life,” she said.

The restaurant’s food is made daily, and, said Lewis, Bulut isn’t shy about throwing away food he thinks is too old.

“It’s about putting out quality food, quickly,” said Lewis.

The restaurant’s food matches it’s decor – clean, simple, sturdy and reliable. Lewis said the restaurant expanded its menu a few years ago, but went back after one season.

“We tried to expand, and it just didn’t work,” she said. “We like to keep it simple. It’s a no-nonsense place.”

Omelet ingredients are chopped daily – buckets of onions, tomatoes, mushrooms, peppers and other fillings. Dishes that could easily be supplied by Sysco – chipped beef and yogurt, for example – are handmade by Bulut.

On a busy holiday morning, the restaurant’s kitchen will go through strange amounts of food. For example, on Memorial Day a month ago, the restaurant went through 170 dozen eggs for omelets and three 15-pound boxes of bacon.

“Sunday was nuts,” said Lewis. “We ran 200 credit cards and that doesn’t even include cash.”

Lewis, who began as a waitress, but now works in the kitchen, proudly points out there’s no heat lamp for dishes to sit under while an order’s other plates finish. The table turnover is about 25 minutes, and the goal is to get food cooking in three to six minutes, she said.

Lewis, clearly more of a talker than Bulut, doesn’t pull any punches. She said some waitresses can’t handle the work environment, but the ones who can work there for years.

Waitresses handwrite food orders in way specific way. Lewis said when she’s on the grill she doesn’t want to have to ask what something means.

“There’s a science behind everything,” she said. “It’s been 21 years and things never change. It’s the exact same thing written as it was when I started.”

Dewey Beach is nothing if not an unpredictable mix of people, and the Sunrise Restaurant caters to them all. There are going to be 20-something renters nursing hangovers eating breakfast next retirement-age property owners. There are going to be people filling their bellies with a greasy cheesesteak after downing a couple of early Bloody Mary’s at the Starboard eating next to families with screaming kids who want to be at the beach.

But, said Lewis, because the busboys, dishwashers, cooks and waitresses know what the other should be doing, the restaurant runs smoothly no matter the clientele.

“We don’t care. Ismet likes to say, ‘No shirt, no shoes, no problem,’” she said. “There’s been some crazy stuff that’s happened here, and we’re not going to get offended.”

Like the sun rising, what is predictable in Dewey is Bulut and his family of employees are going to be ready to serve customers as soon as those open flags are flying on the corner of the street.

It can be a snowstorm or a hurricane, said Lewis, and Sunrise will be the only place open on Route 1 because Bulut came in.

“He just likes being here,” she said, adding, while laughing. “I think he just gets bored.”