Eating Istanbul

Story & Photos by kampunghouse

This article is part of a series of recollections of Istanbul, more of which can be found on the writer's website www.kampunghouse.wordpress.com

It was barely two hours ago that I was on the plane hovering over the Istanbul skyline, and now I found myself sitting on a bench at the Uskudar pier, enjoying the warm sunshine, the blue waters of the Bosphorus and the wonderful realization that I am really on holiday.

I was waiting for Ekin, my Turkish host for the next two days. It would be my first time staying with someone I’ve never met, and thus I was busy crafting jokes in case our conversation descends to an awkward halt.

The joke-crafting session was interminably disrupted by the scenery ahead of me – women in colourful silk shawls boarding the ferries, the extravagant Dolmabahce Palace across the Bosphorus, the mass of buildings vying for top spot along the hills of Istanbul.

A trolley filled with delicious breads and pastries.

I thought to myself how wonderful it would be if this sumptuous scenery was accompanied by a delicious snack.  I spotted a red trolley selling an array of bread and pastries, and not really knowing what they were, simply pointed to the smiling bread seller.

I bought a simit – a type of Turkish bagel topped with sesame seeds and pogaça (po-a-cha), a plain savoury pastry with a tantalising golden brown crust. Both had a dense, satisfying crumb that was a world away from the limp, plastic bread often found in Asian bakeries.

As I was enjoying my snack, I felt a sudden tap on my back.

“Hello, how are you?”     
                                                                                          
“Oh, hello Ekin! Nice to finally meet you,” I replied to Ekin.

“I see you’ve had something to eat,” Ekin said.

Turkish Bagel.

“Yes I have,” I replied again.

There was an uncomfortable silence for a while before Ekin said, “OK then, let’s go to my house so you can drop your luggage.”

I think the time has come to unleash my arsenal of jokes.

Later in the evening, I found myself waiting once again, this time in front of Burger King at the start of Istiklal Avenue, the commercial centre of the city. One of the effects of globalisation is that one can now find McDonald’s, Burger King and the rest of their ilk at every major city, even deeply romanticised capitals like Istanbul. Their bland familiarity takes away some of the excitement of visiting a foreign land, but I have to admit their bright lights and unmistakeable signpost make for a great landmark.

The evening crowd at Istiklal Avenue.

I was waiting for Mikayil, an Azerbaijani living in Istanbul, in search of a restorative winter drink called sahlep. It is a hot drink made from the dried starchy powder of wild orchids found in Turkey, and has a taste similar to vanilla chai latte – only a lot thicker. Due to its popularity, wild orchids have become expensive and increasingly hard to find, so many of the sahlep drinks now have been rather crudely thickened with cornstarch.

We settled for Ozsut, a modish patisserie overflowing with cakes, ice cream and traditional Turkish sweets. Despite the temptation I stuck with my sahlep, though we also ordered a plate of profiteroles doused with chocolate sauce to share. It was an indulgent end to my first night in Istanbul, harking back to the excessive days of Ottoman court life, but what is a holiday if not a revolt against moderation?