6/15/2012
Anthony Bourdaine - No Reservation – ISTANBUL, TURKEY
Asitane
This spot features recipes from the Ottoman Empire.
Kariye Camii Sokak No. 6, Edirnekapi, Istanbul, Turkey
Vefa Bozacisi
A local favorite, Vefa Bozacisi has been concoting a unique
drink made with chickpeas for years.
Katip Celebi Caddesi No. 104/1 Vefa, Istanbul, Turkey
Kale Cafe
Tony sits down to a traditional Turkish breakfast on the
Bosphorus River.
Yahya Kemal Caddesi No. 16 34470 Rumelihisan, Istanbul,
Turkey
Roke Balik Restaurant
Roke sits on a breakwater overlooking both the Black Sea and
the Bosphorus River and is known for its fresh fish.
Rumeli Feneri Liman ici No. 1 Rumelifeneri, Istanbul, Turkey
Sur Ocakbasi
Baby lamb cooked in an underground oven is on the menu for
lunch at this favorite spot in the Fatih District of Istanbul.
Iftaiye Cad No. 27 Fatih, Istanbul, Turkey
Durumzade
A local chef takes Tony shopping for offal and then to a
friend's restaurant to cook it up.
Kalyoncu Caddesi No. 58, Balikpazari Beyoglu, Istanbul,
Turkey
Kalamar Restaurant
The place in the busy Nevizade district of Istanbul is where
locals unwind with Raki and Mezzes.
Huseyin Aga Mahallesi Sahne Sokak No. 33, Balikpazari
Beyoglu, Istanbul, Turkey
Kizilkayalar
Kizilkayalar serves up Doner kebab and Wet Hamburgers to
bar-hopping Turks.
Siraselviler Caddesi No. 6 Taksim, Istanbul, Turkey
Tatbak
Lamachun is served at Tatbak and has been for several years.
Tatbak is a popular lunch spot for business-minded Turks.
Akkavak Sokak 28/A Nisantasi, Istanbul, Turkey
Balkan Lokantasi
Tony tries the traditional lunch of the market workers in
Istanbul at Balkan Lokantasi restaurant.
Hocapasa Mahallesi Hocapasa Sok No. 26, Sirkeci, Istanbul,
Turkey
ISTANBUL EATS IN PRESS
Postcard from Tom: In Istanbul,
a calorie-laden tour of Turkish delights
By Tom
Sietsema, Published: July 15, 2011 | Updated: Saturday, July 16,
10:46 PM
Pickle juice for breakfast? Not exactly how
I envisioned kicking off my tour of the food attractions starting near the
popular Spice Market in Istanbul. But one of the early lessons of spending the day with tour guide
Angelis Nannos — a wiry Greek native with a passion for Turkish traditions
that’s shared by his American bosses, the authors of the clever restaurant
guide “Istanbul
Eats” — is keeping an open mind (and a willing
stomach).
So here some pals and I find ourselves,
sipping sour vegetable juices in the belly of a warehouse stacked high with
bags of coffee beans and equipped with a small kitchen for brewing tea and
coffee. Burly workers get up from a worn table to make space for Nannos, his
new charges and his purchases from some choice stalls in the market: olives,
cheese, that liquid eye-opener from the pickle vendor and simit, Turkey’s
equivalent of a bagel, sprinkled with sesame seeds. Our impromptu picnic is
served atop sheets of newspaper and accompanied by the comings and goings of
the men, who ferry trays of steaming tea and thick coffee to the merchants
outside. None of the regulars in this warren of offices and storage, or han,
bats an eye when a doctor strolls in and takes the blood pressure of one of the
senior characters.
The print and online versions of “Istanbul
Eats,” written and photographed by Ansel Mullins and Yigal Schleifer, are
smart, affectionate and sometimes irreverent looks at the food scene in this
metropolis of more than 10 million. The live-action spinoff of the 2010 guide
is a calorie-laden insider’s look that goes well beyond what regular tourists
glimpse.
Hence our breakfast in the warehouse.
Our day with Nannos actually began at 9:30
a.m., in Eminonu Plaza in the Old City, with an introduction to the amazing
nut, cheese, olive, fish and other vendors nearby, who distinguish themselves
from their competition in, say, Paris and Beijing by encouraging — almost
begging — shoppers to sample their goods.
“You have the right to try,” instructs
Nannos, who gave up a job as a civil engineer to teach and blog about food,
music and other passions and joined Istanbul Eats just a year ago. “You’re not
obliged to buy.” It was advice I used in Istanbul thereafter, but not before
I’d shelled out $90 elsewhere for some pistachios and the marshmallow-like
confection known as Turkish Delight after encountering a particularly
persuasive dealer. I blame the transaction on jet lag.
Breakfast is behind us, but there’s baklava
straight ahead, at the fragrant Tatlici Safa (the tour is arranged not based on your appetite at the moment, but on
where the good stuff happens to be). Nannos is on such friendly terms with the
crew behind the glass display cases that he dons a white hat and joins them to
cut samples of baklava for us. There’s a lot to take in: baklava with walnuts,
baklava with the more expensive pistachios, baklava in the shape of lips and
baklava flavored with . . . chocolate? Nannos catches the frown on my
face and says that it isn’t blasphemy but part of Istanbul’s charm to embrace
“the new with the old.” The chocolate confection, which we eat with kaymak,
similar to clotted cream and made from buffalo milk, is fabulous, and I don't
even care that much for chocolate.
We rinse our hands of sugar and crumbs and
stroll to a one-man show in a nearby alley. He’s tending sputtering bolsters of
kokorec suspended horizontally over red-glowing charcoal. Translation, please?
Sweetbreads bundled in lamb intestines. The grill master slices off a round the
size of a saucer, chops the milky offal on a wooden surface that’s been worn
into a well from all the pounding, and serves us the delicacy in the hollow of
a crusty baguette. The mouth registers fat, funk, oregano, salt, chili pepper:
pleasure. As he will do throughout our time together, Nannos pulls out a money
purse and pays for everything we consume, no matter how much or (later into the
tour) how little. Istanbul Eats’s $125 price per person becomes more of a
bargain with each stop.
Nannos wants us to see a working-class
restaurant that started out as a soup kitchen for the poor in the shadow of the
Rustem Pasa Mosque, which dates back five centuries. So in we go to a plain
room where a handful of men occupy a handful of tables and eat the kind of food
their wives or mothers would make for them if the men could spend more time
away from their jobs. (Part of the appeal of Istanbul Eats is its maximum of
six guests per tour, which allows easier access to gems such as this; as Nannos
says later, “We try not to spoil them.”) We try a few spoonfuls of red lentil
soup bright with lemon and hot with red pepper, then follow that with some more
time travel.
Altan
Sekerleme has been selling candy and
confections since 1865; photographs on a wall depict members of three of the
four generations that have sweetened the days of customers with satiny hard
candies (akide) and Turkish Delights (lokum), displayed in tall glass jars or
cupboards that look as if they’ve been around since Day One. Again, a
proprietor lets Nannos slip on a glove and hand out tastes of the treats, which
are made on site, upstairs. The colors are straight out of cartoons; the
flavors run to mint, cinnamon, orange, rose petal and a peach that suggests the
actual ripe fruit was used.
The sweets call for tea, which we sip in
the nearby courtyard of another han, this one animated by a blacksmith and
dating to the 17th or 18th century. “We like to keep secrets for our guests,”
says Nannos. This ancient setting is among them.
The pause in the action gives us a chance
to get to know our guide on a more personal level. “I’m hooked on Istanbul,” he
says, as if there were any doubt. “I don’t want to leave for one day. She will
be jealous of me,” he half-jokes. Unlike the guide we had earlier in the week,
who wanted to take us to late-night belly-dancing shows and a man-made island
on the Bosporus with its own pool, Nannos wants us to see a side of his adopted
city that few tourists experience. “I don’t want to be the star of the walk,”
he says, and we believe him, even though “the walk” wouldn’t be nearly so
entertaining without him.
At one point on our stroll from west to
south, every third storefront appears to frame people having their hair cut
inside. Nannos says there’s a saying: “Half the men in Istanbul are barbers,
and the other half are customers.” A tip for gents: You can skip the Turkish
baths here, but don’t even think about forgoing an old-fashioned shave
featuring warm lather, a sharp blade and, depending on where you land, a head
or shoulder massage.
None of us is the least bit hungry. But the
sight of a man shaving lamb from a large spindle prompts us to rally. Besir
Ete, the bald swordsman with the kindly mug at Bereket, brings to mind
that “Top Chef” top gun, Tom
Colicchio; the subject of his attention is
not the ubiquitous trunk of meat that lesser purveyors buy frozen from
factories, but lamb that he has put together himself, along with alternating
layers of tomatoes, onions and bell peppers: sebzeli doner kebab (the first word
means “with vegetables”). It is not a traditional doner kebab, Nannos says, but
the combination of juicy meat and crisp vegetables (served over rice or with
bread) gets a thumbs up for innovation. The striped tower takes the vendor two
hours to assemble each morning, Nannos tells us; the secret to its succulence
is marinating the lamb in shredded onion and onion juice the night before. We
exit thanking Ete, who pats his hand over his heart.
The idea of fermented millet as a chaser
doesn’t excite anyone but Nannos. But his enthusiasm for the Ottoman-era
beverage called boza is infectious, and he knows just the spot to try it in
Vefa, the neighborhood we have wandered into. Dressed with a handsome wood bar,
pale yellow walls, mosaic tiles and a glass said to have been used by Ataturk,
the founder of modern Turkey, in 1937, Vefa Bozacici looks like a cross between an espresso bar and a saloon. The house draw,
made with yeast, water and sugar, is poured into tall glasses and sprinkled
with cinnamon. Roasted chickpeas can be added at the table. The beige result is
like a liquefied pudding, mildly sweet but also slightly salty. We are pleased
to have drunk it.
It is after 3 p.m. when Nannos leads us
through the Kurdish neighborhood of Kandinlar Pazari, and we collapse into the
outdoor seats at Siirt Seref
Buryan , a restaurant where the regulars
include the prime minister and the specialty is whole lamb suspended on hooks
and cooked in a dome-topped oven that goes more than eight feet into the
ground. Again, we see today blending with eons ago: Half the table is facing
skyscrapers and half has a view of the nearby ancient Roman aqueducts. I’m a
grazer by profession, but like my fellow travelers, I’m suffering from stimulus
overload and taste-bud fatigue. For a moment, I consider flagging a taxi to
return to our hotel. But soon the table is crowded with some of that lamb, a
rippled dip of red peppers, onion and tomatoes, and a wedding dish called “rice
in curtains” (steaming pilaf beneath a crisp cover of pastry made with yogurt).
And so we feast again.
We’ve only strolled a little more than a
mile in the past six hours, but it feels as if we’ve canvassed the whole of
Turkey. We are exhausted and exhilarated. And very, very full.
I returned to Washington with notebooks
filled with names of places I’d love to visit again. The best place for a cup
of Turkish coffee? Possibly the slip of a stall called Mandabatmaz,
tucked away in an alley near the St. Antoine Church off Istikal Caddesi. Mullins introduced me to the father-and-son stand,
the faded sign for which translates into English as “The Buffalo Won’t Sink,”
because of the thickness of the coffee; the beans for the shop are roasted and
ground fresh each day. We sat on wooden stools on a sloped sidewalk comparing
the different strengths and came to the conclusion that “orta,” coffee with “a
medium” amount of sugar, was best.
Fish lovers should take the time to seek
out the inviting Kahraman, which was recommended to me by the Turkish
ambassador to the United States, Namik Tan. The signature of the restaurant, the route to which hugs the Bosporus,
is simply grilled, ugly but delicious spotted turbot preceded by tasty seafood
salads and accompanied by extraordinary warmth (and lots of pantomime).
Serious food connoisseurs need to make time
for Ciya Sofrasi , whose chef and owner, Musa Dagdeviren, has made it his mission to
revive and reinvent Turkish cuisine. Aim for a perch outside, hopefully the
yellow wooden table that is so close to the kitchen window that you might be
greeted (as we were) with some charred bell pepper doled out by one of the
smiling cooks. Some customers go inside to select their food, much of it on
display in pots and platters; we let the servers make those decisions for us.
What followed were a soft sail of sesame-seeded bread; exquisite kibbe
fashioned from finely ground beef and pistachios; cigar-thin dolma filled with
tart rice; tender meatballs the size of marbles; fish wrapped in grape leaves;
a salad of figs and tomatoes; orbs of candied eggplant and a crescent of
pumpkin draped with walnut sauce. There may be no finer food in the city. Part
of the enchantment of dining at Ciya Sofrasi is reaching it via a short ferry
ride to the Asian side of the Bosporus.
All those experiences made me grateful to
have met Istanbul, yet the only place my friends and I sought out for a second
meal was Bereket, that inexpensive doner kebab vendor in the Old City, which we
returned to the very afternoon after our tour with Istanbul Eats.
This time, however, we took our guide’s
initial advice: “Come with totally empty stomachs.”
A Tour of Istanbul's Street Food By Elizabeth Helman
Minchilli
If you're like me, when you travel, you
like to plan your trip around food. Seeing the sights is important, I know, but
having an authentic food experience gives you insights into the local culture
that no amount of church- and museum-going can provide. (And mind you, I
started out life as an architectural historian.)
Today, with a bit of research on the Internet anyone can scope out the best
restaurants, markets, and food sources. At least up to a certain point. What
about the places that fall through the cracks? The place where the guys who
sell fish take their coffee break. Or where spice vendors stop mid-morning for
a bowl of lentil soup.
You can't walk two feet in Istanbul without
being offered some lokum, or Turkish delight.
I don't usually sign up for tours of any
kind; I always think I can figure things out on my own. But for a recent trip
to Istanbul I felt help was in order. The culture is a mystery to me. So I
signed up for a street food tour with a new company, Istanbul
Eats.
The company was started by two expats who have lived in Istanbul for years,
Ansel Mullins and Yigal Schleifer . They are intrepid explorers of the city's
culinary byways and wanted to share their experiences. These are the places that
no one has written about. Besides writing a nifty little book, also titled Istanbul
Eats, they recently started offering tours based on their unique itineraries, led by equally enthusiastic
colleagues.
Our tour started at 9:30 and lasted until 3ish. I just did a count and we
stopped for food and/or drink at no fewer than 12 places, not counting
mini-stops at shops and market stands. It was as if we packed in a week's worth
of eating into six hours. Here is our itinerary, but make sure you look at the
slide show below. (Warning: It may make you hop on the next flight to
Istanbul.)
9:30. We
meet our guide, Angelis Nano, in front of the Spice Market. Angelis is a
transplanted Greek who fell in love with Istanbul and started working as a
guide to share his passion. His enthusiasm is immediately contagious. We bypass
the Spice Market, which he says is a tourist trap, and head to the surrounding
alleys filled with stands selling everything from sumac by the kilo to sheep's
heads. We shop for our "breakfast": olives, cheese, simit
(sesame-covered bread), and cheese.
9:40. We make our way into what looks like a coffee warehouse and is in
fact where the market vendors store their goods. Tucked among the sacks of
coffee is one small desk, next to a closet-sized tea and coffee shop. We lay
down newspapers, and spread out our goods, while hot coffee and tea is
prepared. Vendors wander in and out, chatting with us, although we don't
understand a word. We share our breakfast, and have a lesson in how to brew
Turkish coffee.
10:00. We continue our exploration of the back streets of the old city,
stopping at a lotus root merchant, coffee roaster, and spice wholesaler. We
visit the one remaining kosher restaurant left in the city (unfortunately
closed at this hour).
10:05. Sweet time. A stop at a pastry shop that makes sugar-syrup
drenched "sultan's lips," which we devour.
10:15. Tucked between the Rustem Pasa Mosque and the Spice Market is
Halis Kardesler. This tiny restaurant has five Formica-topped tables and caters
to the market workers. It's actually a bit late in the morning, so the crowds
are gone. Most market vendors stop here at the crack of down for lentil soup,
which we slurp up before moving on. We also manage to devour a plate of buttery
pilaf.
10:40. What street food trek would be complete without a pide stop?
We go to Mave Halic, and get a lesson in how to make classic pide. Which really
is like an oval pizza, as far as I can tell. The lamb sausage on top, however,
was a purely Turkish touch.
11:00. More wandering in and out of shops. Picked up a nifty set of
brass and steel kebab spears, plus an engraved steel tray.
11:10. You can't walk two feet in Istanbul without being offered some lokum,
or Turkish delight. Even though it all looks the same, it of course varies in
quality. We head straight for one of the oldest workshops that still crafts its
own, Altan. My favorites were the traditional rose and pistachio flavors. We
also bought a package of pistachio halva in case we got hungry.
11:20. We got
hungry. So, we stop in another closet-sized tea shop located in an abandoned han.
This 17th-century building, Ali Pasa Han, is where traveling merchants would
lock up their goods at night, before bringing them to the bazaar in the
morning. While we explored the empty, haunting rooms, Ismet Sahin prepared tea
for us, which we sipped while nibbling on our halva. He's been brewing coffee
and tea here for more than 30 years.
11:45. We crossed into a much more conservative neighborhood, Kucuk
Pazari, where my daughters and I were not just the only non-Muslim women, we
were pretty much the only women on the street. This neighborhood is also called
"Kantarcilar," which refers to the weights and measures sold here
since Ottoman times. Our goal: to reach the next stop, which included our first
taste of kebap on this trip. Kebap is everywhere you look in Istanbul, and has
become more or less a symbol for junky touristy food. Our stop, however, was
anything but touristy. We joined the all-male clientele to eat the kind of
kebap they must eat in heaven: sebzeli doner. Thin layers of lamb
alternated with tomatoes, lettuce, and onions and turned in front of a grill.
Fresh rolls were sliced and filled with the juicy meat and vegetable combo. A
glass of freshly squeezed pomegranate juice to wash it down.
12:15. After a mostly uphill trek through the hills of Fatih
neighborhood, we arrived at an Istanbul institution: Vefa. Vefa has been mixing
up boza since 1876. Never heard of boza? It's a thick, almost
pudding-like drink that is made from fermented millet. Pale yellow and slightly
sweet, but strongly sour, it's sprinkled with cinnamon and served in a glass,
with a spoon. Angelis ran across the street, to a small shop, to buy a bag of
roasted chickpeas, which we floated on top. The first sip was decidedly weird.
By the end we were hooked, like most of the city's population.
12:45. Our walk continues through the Kurdish neighborhood of Kadinlar
Pazari, which is full of butchers selling lamb everything, and cheese vendors
hawking cave-aged goat cheese flecked with wild herbs from the highlands around
Lake Van. We buy a container of candied pumpkin, for the road.
1:00. Believe it or not, we now finally arrive at lunch. And believe it
or not, we are actually hungry. Siirt Seref is a Kurdish restaurant
specializing in buryan kebap. Not just any kebap, but a full, mostly
deboned lamb that has been lowered into a clay oven (kind of like a tandoor)
and slow-roasted. The resulting meat was tender, fatty, and chopped into
bite-sized pieces before being piled on a juice-soaked flatbread. Of course the
main dish was preceded by an endless array of meze, the highlight of
which were spiced raw lamb çiğ köfte, meatballs, which we doused in
lemon juice and rolled up into lettuce leaves. The candied pumpkin was the last
thing we managed to squeeze into our mouths before our final Turkish coffee.
à la mode
à la mode is the journal and creative
outlet of Rick Poon, a Los Angeles photographer obsessed with food, travel, and
design, though not necessarily in that order. Usually a man of few words, rick
aspires to express himself through means other than pretty photos. Yes, that
means writing!
To see more of Rick’s work, visit his Flickr.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/rickpoon/
ARTICLES:
http://www.alamodejournals.com/index.php/2010/04/lost-in-istanbul/
http://www.alamodejournals.com/index.php/2010/06/lost-in-istanbul-part-ii/
http://www.alamodejournals.com/index.php/2010/09/lost-in-istanbul-portrait-of-a-city/
a la mode –eating in Istanbul
Food has become an ever-increasingly
important facet of travel these days, and it’s hard to deny that a country’s or
region’s cuisine has as much to say about itself as any historical site,
museum, or tourist attraction. Istanbul is no exception; every restaurant,
dish, and bite create a beautiful tapestry that illustrates the soul of the
people, and the complex, intertwined history of immigrants, exotic trade and
spice routes, and foreign conquests that have help shape the fabric of the city
and its culture. So, it’s not difficult to imagine that discovering the food of
Istanbul would be a important if not integral part of our visit. Given the size
and sprawl of this metropolis, it’s easy to get lost among the sheer number of
eateries and restaurants commanding your attention. But thanks to a stack of
guide books, some great online sources, valuable advice from locals, and a
little serendipity and luck, we were able to uncover some fabulous eats over
the duration of our stay that made our trip to Turkey simply wonderful;
probably one of the most memorable to date.
Our baptism into the world of Turkish food
occurred shortly after arriving into Istanbul. Famished after the long journey
from LA, we sought a quick, late-night fix to quell our growling stomachs and
stumbled into the busiest establishment we could find. Within steps of the W
Istanbul, Şampiyon Kokoreç looked like any other chain fast food joint:
small, brightly-lit, staffed with neatly-uniformed employees, and filled with
post-drinking revelers and hungry insomniacs. We soon found out the specialty, kokoreç,
is the small and large intestines of lamb, layered on a spit and slowly
roasted. The meat is pulled off the spit, chopped and grilled with tomatoes and
red peppers, and dusted liberally with dried oregano. The hash is served as-is
on a plate, or as I prefer it, scooped into flavor-sopping bun. The resulting
sandwich, in my opinion, is one of the best contributions to Turkish late-night
cuisine. The combination of charred and juicy bits, with intense lamb flavor
(surprisingly devoid of the usual innards funk) would convert even the most
offal averse. Greasy, filling, and absolutely delicious. Kokoreç was quite
possibly the best (and unanticipated) introduction we could have hoped for, and
the perfect late-night snack.
I have to admit the thought of getting
around Istanbul was initially quite intimidating. All the books, articles, and
travel shows could only do so much to paint a picture of this vast and exotic
city. It can be overwhelming the first day or so, but the expanse quickly
shrinks down to a more manageable size. When it comes to the food scene in
Istanbul, One resource that was invaluable in plotting out the culinary
landscape was istanbuleats.com. This English language website contains a wealth of restaurant reviews
and hand-picked recommendations, uncovering hidden gems passed up in the usual
guide books.
One of the many choice finds suggested by
istanbuleats was the lovely Van Kahavaltı Evi. Specializing in regional
fare, with a focus on local and organic products, this lively hotspot in the
Cihangir neighborhood serves up a wonderful Turkish breakfast. We enjoyed a
leisurely morning street side, sampling regional cheeses with tomatoes,
cucumbers, olives, and crusty bread, and sipping hot tea elbow to elbow with
young Turks. Not to be missed is the sucuklu menemen, fluffy scrambled
eggs with spicy sausage, tomatoes, onions, and peppers, and the indulgent bal
kaymak, Turkey’s version of clotted cream, adorned with beautifully golden
honeycomb. If there was a better way to start the day, we didn’t know it.
Another great suggestion from istanbuleats
was the wonderful Zübeyir. Just off Istiklal Caddesi (the main walking
drag in Beyoğlu), this quaint kabob house is a must try for the ubiquitous
grilled skewers found throughout Istanbul. We grabbed prime seats next to the ocakbaşı
(a long hearth with a beautiful, hand-hammered copper hood), and had a fabulous
evening watching a variety of meats sizzle and smoke over crackling hardwood
coals, and finding their way onto our plates and into our happy stomachs. Along
with perfectly grilled skewers like the spicy adana kabob, lamb chops, and the
amazingly succulent lamb ribs, we also selected a few plates from their tray of
mezze (appetizers), like a creamy pumpkin mash with tart pomegranate
molasses, and black-eyed peas with parsley, dill, and lemon. We toasted a night
of great food and good cheer with a few glasses of anise-y raki, the
Turkish spirit not unlike the Greek ouzo.
Any visit to Istanbul will inevitably lead
you to the Galata bridge, the link between the new and old city, and the busy
southside waterfront of Eminönü. It is here at the mouth of the Golden Horn
where you will find throngs of people rushing to and from the ferries that
shuttle locals and visitors alike to various stops up and down the Bosphorus.
This whole area seems to be teeming with fish; those who seek to catch them, as
evident from the scores of locals with their poles angled off the sides of the
bridge, and the restaurants and vendors who aim to cook and sell you some. Many
of the restaurants that occupy the lower level of Galata will attempt to lure
you in with a sales pitch and some Turkish charm, but the real action occurs
adjacent to the ferry landing, where gilded and ornately decorated floating
kitchens will sell you balik ekmek. There’s something more fun watching
your fish sandwich, which is simply grilled and served with shredded lettuce
and onions in a baguette, being made on a boat, and then deftly handed off as
swells lull the package within the vendor’s grasp on terra firma. Balik ekmek
is typically consumed with an alarmingly rosy-tinged cup of briny salgam,
or pickle juice (I tried a pickle but refrained from drinking the juice).
However you wish to eat it, a worthwhile experience nonetheless.
If there was one thing we couldn’t get
enough of in Istanbul, it was kaymak. Luscious, creamy, and never too
rich, this indulgent treat became a part of our morning ritual. Luckily for us,
just a short stroll from our hotel was Beşiktaş Kaymakçi, where
charismatic owner Pando serves his kaymak traditionally with a spoonful of
Turkish honey, accompanied with a light and crisp baguette. Show any interest,
and he will proudly gesture to old photos on the wall, of ancestors that have
run this old shop since 1895, and of water buffaloes from which kaymak is made
(from the milk that is). Beşiktaş Kaymakci is a charming piece of living
Istanbul history, well off the beaten tourist path. If you’re in the
neighborhood, pay old Pando a visit.
If traditional establishments reflect the
cuisine of Istanbul’s past, a good handful of restaurants also point to the
city’s modern and chic present. At the sleek Mikla restaurant, star chef
Mehmet Gürs displays the creative fusion of his Turkish and Scandinavian roots.
Local fish like grouper is sliced raw and presented simply with dill, chives,
lemon, and jewels of caviar. Flavorful Kıvırcık lamb, sourced from the Trakya
region in Northern Turkey, is offered in various preparations, each accompanied
with modern takes on familiar ingredients. The food is only topped by the
killer, panoramic view of the city that is alone worth the price of entry.
Though upscale, posh places weren’t really
part of our focus, we also stopped into the Ortaköy branch of the House Café
for a little bite to eat. With multiple locations throughout Istanbul, this
cafe offers casual, contemporary plates like mini lahmacun ‘pizzas’
(flatbread with minced meat), paninis, and Italian coffee in trendy interiors
individually designed by local firm Autoban.
There’s still more food to come in a future
entry. I just wanted to spare everyone the crazy single post with a thousand
photos. Hopefully this time it won’t take another month or so to post it.
Şampiyon Kokoreç
Balik Pazari Sahne Sokak No. 3/B-C, Beyoğlu
+90 (212) 251-2511
Dolmabahçe Caddesi No. 3A, Beşiktaş
+90 (212) 259-6268
Van Kahavaltı Evi
Defterdar Yokuşu No. 52A, Cihangir
+90 (212) 293-6437
Zübeyir
Bekar Sokak No. 28, Beyoğlu
+90 (212) 293-3951
Beşiktaş Kaymakçi
Koyici Meydani Sokak, Beşiktaş
+90 (212) 258-2616
Mikla
Marmara Pera Hotel
Meşrutiyet Caddesi 15, Beyoğlu
+90 (212) 293-5656
The House Café
Salhane Sokak No. 1, Ortaköy
+90 (212) 227-2699
EATING IN ISTANBUL PART II
Just about a year has passed since my visit
to Istanbul and I’m finally getting around to posting the last of the
photographs from the trip. As I look at the images, reminiscing about the
neighborhoods we explored, the names of restaurants and dishes we consumed, a
lot of the details are hard to recall without referring to my written notes.
One thing that did however leave a lasting impression was how wonderfully
gracious and hospitable the Turkish people were during our stay. There was a
genuine warmth and generosity in just about everyone we came across. Just beautiful
people, period. I had such a great time in this amazing city, and along with
the remaining food bits I wanted to share a little more of the people I
captured with my lens.
One of my most memorable experiences was
meeting up with Angelis Nannos of Istanbul Eats, our culinary and cultural guide for the good part of a morning during
our week-long stay. The restaurant reviews from Istanbul Eats were so
invaluable during our research and planning, that we made arrangements to be
one of the first to participate in one of their walking food tours. Quirky but
instantly lovable, Angelis led us through a labyrinth of narrow alleyways and
crowded markets, showing us a breadth of foodstuffs from the ubiquitous to the
more obscure. Visits to some off-the-beaten-path historical sites during the
tour kept things interesting and well balanced. If you love food and culture,
there isn’t a better way to get acquainted with the city.
More like a good friend than guide, Angelis
was always more than happy to answer our barrage of questions about Turkey, its
food and random minutia. Since we were the only ones in the group, he was also
able to tailor the tour to our preferences (less touristy stuff, more food!).
Along the way we met some incredibly beautiful and down-to-earth people;
humble, proud, and always eager to oblige in my portrait requests.
I realized in documenting the things we ate
on our trip, I found myself too focused on the plates in front of me. What was
really grabbing my attention were the people behind the food (and the people of
Istanbul in general), and I was really beginning to enjoy capturing their
expressions. Their warm smiles and easy demeanor say it all.
Along our stroll we ran into a curious
little vendor frying anchovies street-side. “Oh that’s hamsi”, Angelis
exclaimed. I told Angelis we must try some.
These little anchovies were lightly dusted
in cornmeal and fried crisp on the outside. A simple spritz of lemon was all
that was needed. I have to say that this impromptu snack ranked as one of the
best things I tasted in Istanbul. Delightfully fresh, briny, and piping hot on
the inside. What I wouldn’t do to have a tray of that right now with an ice
cold Turkish Pilsner.
We took a break in a hidden courtyard for a
cup of çay (tea) and Türk kahvesi (Turkish coffee) to go along
with some pastries we bought along the way.
Life in Istanbul can be quite leisurely.
Let me rephrase that, people take time to enjoy themselves (unlike our fast paced
culture at home). The men do enjoy their tea, and at all times of the day you
can see runners with trays full of tea delivering hot amber glasses from
storefront to storefront.
In a city that’s as modern and forward as
Istanbul, it’s great to see shops that still specialize hand craftsmanship and
individual trades.
As we ventured away from the throngs of
tourists to a curiously quieter part of town, we arrived at a unique little
shop. Vefa Bozacisi specializes in boza, a thick, slightly sour
drink (popular during the Ottoman Empire) made from fermented millet seed. With
a dash of cinnamon and a handful of roasted chickpeas on top, it’s an odd drink
you consume with a spoon. Acquired taste aside, I can appreciate the little
piece of history and tradition that’s being preserved and carried on.
The ever energetic Angelis took us next to
another neat find, again less frequented by tourists. Kadinlar Pazari in
the Fatih neighborhood is Istanbul’s Kurdish district. There’s a quaint
pedestrian square is flanked by butcher shops and markets selling all types of
meats, cheeses, and produce from Turkey’s eastern region.
Our little journey (and tour) ended at one
of the square’s many restaurants for a leisurely afternoon meal.
Siirt Şeref Büryan Kebap Salonu specializes in regional Arabic dishes from the eastern
part of Turkey that borders Syria and Iraq. The eponymous dish, büryan, is a slab of succulent
roasted lamb that’s carved up and served atop freshly-baked pide bread.
We had a great time chatting over juicy pork
bits and another Siirt specialty, perde pilaf, a cone of fragrant rice
studded with shreds of chicken, almonds, and currants baked inside a crispy
shell.
If you ever make it out to Istanbul… I mean
when you do, make sure to hit these guys up. And ask for Angelis, you won’t be disappointed.
Spend any time in Istanbul and it’s highly
likely you’ll end up in the Tünel/Asmalımescit area of Beyoğlu. The
narrow cobblestone streets are home to outdoor cafes and pubs called meyhanes,
which is like Turkey’s version of a tapas bar. It’s a great late night
option when you want a little something to eat, and get your drink on too.
Black Sea comfort food at Pera Sisore in
the Asmalımescit neighborhood
Another great place to explore at night is Istiklal
Caddesi, the popular pedestrian avenue in the Beyoğlu district, and the
adjacent Taksim Square. Besides people (locals and tourists alike), it’s
chocked full of boutiques, stores, and food options of every imaginable kind.
Just off Istiklal Caddesi by the Beyoğlu
fish market is Durumzade, a tiny wrap shop made famous by a particular
travel show host (and it’s not the one that likes to eat grubs and iguanas).
These handheld lavash wraps (durum) of minced chicken or beef kabobs are
the perfect answer to the munchies after a long night hitting the bars. Good
thing they’re open 24 hours.
In our conversations with our new friend
Angelis, we asked him what he would recommend us to try. “Iskender” was
his answer. I’m not sure we ended up at the restaurant he suggested (we walked
back and forth on the Istiklal Caddesi trying to find a particular distinguishing
landmark), but the iskender at Bursa Kebapçisi was spectacular
enough.
iskender at Bursa Kebapçisi
This dish reminds me of a Turkish version
of our American sports bar nachos. Cubes of pide bread, slathered with melted
butter and a tangy tomato sauce, is heaped high with döner (thinly shaved
lamb), köfte (ground meat), and filet, drizzled with yogurt, and garnished with
tomatoes and green peppers. Guilt-inducingly decadent. I’m salivating just
thinking of it.
At this point I think a little dessert
would be nice. You can find baklava in small shops all over town, but I have to
admit that the giant Costco-sized Karaköy Güllüoğlu was one of the best
I tried. There’s almost 20 varieties of baklava (including my favorite, chocolate!), plus a handful of other decadent treats.
We shared an assortment with a few glasses
of tea; a fittingly sweet end to our beautiful trip to Istanbul and to this
series of posts. Chapter closed.
Vefa Bozacisi
Katip Çelebi Caddesi No. 104/1, Vefa
+90 (212) 519-4922
Siirt Şeref Büryan Kebap Salonu
Itfaiye Caddesi No. 4, Fatih
+90 (212) 635-8085
Durumzade
Kalyoncu Kulluk Caddesi 26/A, Beyoğlu
+90 (212) 249-0147
Bursa Kebapcisi
Atif Yilmaz Caddesi 8, Beyoğlu
+90 (212) 249-9742
Karaköy Güllüoğlu
Katli Otopark Alti, Karaköy
+90 (212) 293-0910
