Tag: Restaurants in Istanbul

Mustafa Amca’s Tea Garden, an Istanbul Institution

The Turkish proverb “At, avrat, silah ödünç verilmez” (“neither horse, wife nor weapon should be lent”) is sometimes repeated as a way to recall the nomadic warrior past of the Turks. The primal Turkish essentials are clearly stated, but what about the çay bardağı, the tea glass that has become such a ubiquitous Turkish icon? Reading the 17th-century works of Evliya Çelebi, the Ottoman Rick Steves, you’d expect to find descriptions of medieval tea jockeys swinging trays filled with those tulip-shaped glasses through the alleyways of the Old City. Right?

Wrong. As firmly rooted as Turkey’s tea culture may now be, it was only planted in the 20th century and didn’t really take hold until after the First World War, when coffee became too expensive for most. It was not until 1937 that tea harvesting on the Black Sea coast began in earnest. But as we’ve witnessed, things can move fast in Anatolia and today Turkey is one of the world’s biggest producers and consumers of tea.

A narrow passage off İstiklal Caddesi opens onto the courtyard of the timeworn Hacopulo Pasajı, a grand and decrepit open-air arcade built in the late 19th century. Cats sleep on stacks of paperbacks at a used bookstore, next to a tailor’s shop advertising “pants, made to order.” In the window of Madame Katia’s hat boutique is a carefully curated collection that could have been inspired by Audrey Hepburn. Upstairs from a tattoo parlor, a band of jugglers and trapeze artists have their practice space. The sight of the slightly stooped Mustafa Amca, or “Uncle Mustafa,” as he makes his rounds though this hodgepodge courtyard, distributing tea to people seated on stools scattered around the flagstones, feels absolutely timeless. But, just like the tea he serves from Rize on the Black Sea coast, Mustafa is also a recent arrival.

“I came to Istanbul from Doğubeyazıt in 1969, without even a place to sleep. I was 13 years old,” Mustafa Amca explained. He found a distant relative who got him started as a dishwasher in a pudding shop and later did a stint at a bakery before finding his current spot in life at the helm of the tea stand in Hacopulo Pasajı. By serving tea and coffee to local shopkeepers day in and day out for 30 years, Mustafa Amca has become interwoven with the commercial and social life of the neighborhood. In a way, he has become an Istanbul institution.

“When they were renovating the church next door the architect would come here for tea every day. She went to İzmir and was telling someone about this church – God only knows how old and important it is. Nobody knew which church she meant so she explained, ‘It’s the one by Mustafa Amca,’ and then they understood. They even knew me in İzmir!”

When Mustafa speaks of tea culture he describes intimate conversations, respectful behavior and reliability, not tea leaves and hot water, which he admits you can find anywhere. “Tea is more than ‘Sit down. Here’s a glass full of tea, take it.’ It’s about an ongoing relationship among the customers and a relationship they have with me, too. Lives come together here.”

His çay is a prop in a drama that is essential to life in this city, that of spending time in the company of others. Real estate hucksters in shiny suits share a pack of Murattis and reel off their latest schemes to one another. Young girls in school uniforms squeal as they pass their iPhones around the table. Leftists roll up cigarettes with Drum tobacco and mumble through bushy moustaches. Couples sit close together in intense conversation on the stairs of the church. A few hours at Mustafa Amca’s is another episode in the Real World, Istanbul. Shuffling over the worn-down stones of his beat, he quietly orchestrates the scene with his presence.

Mustafa Amca’s story – a rural Kurd from an impoverished, desolate area who made his way to the big city as a vulnerable young boy and, somehow, made it – reminds us of another migration, which brought blues music and soul food to cities across the American North. As much as the poor, ragged, new arrivals are scorned for their country ways, the city thrives thanks to them. Today, here is Mustafa Amca, the beloved gatekeeper of an essential cultural platform in Istanbul – proof that there’s a need for interlocutors in the city’s social life, no matter their background. That’s a role that goes way back, to well before the tea he serves. Ordering a tea is just an excuse to call him “uncle,” and to respectfully enter the story of his humble courtyard.

Location: Hacopulo Pasajı (Danışman Geçidi), Galatasaray/Beyoğlu

Phone: No phone

Hours: Mon.-Sat. 7am-2am; Sun. 9am-2am

(photo by Monique Jaques)

via Mustafa Amca’s Tea Garden, an Istanbul Institution | Culinary Backstreets.

February 13, 2013
Multicultural Dining at a Friendly Istanbul Meyhane

In the great multicultural Anatolian kitchen, questions about the ethnic or national origins of foods are often cause for forks and knives to fly. A porridge called keşkek is a hot-button diplomatic issue between Turkey and Armenia, and we won’t even get started on the ongoing baklava debate. So what to make of this cuisine that draws influences from every corner of the former Ottoman lands, a territory stretching from the Balkans to North Africa? The answer might be in a simple term that’s becoming popular among Turkey’s minorities. The word Türkiyeli means “of Turkey” and differs significantly (and quite intentionally) from the word Türk, which often adds ethno-religious shades to nationality.

We find Türkiyeli to be an apt description of most things in this country, and certainly of the restaurant Mekan, whose heritage is anything but simple: owned by Armenian and Jewish business partners, the venue is frequented by a diverse clientele that includes many Istanbul Armenians. Nevertheless, Mekan wears its identity loosely and is not trying to be anything but a good restaurant with a kitchen turning out well-made, traditional favorites. Hold the culinary nationalism, and dig in.

From the moment you enter, you are enveloped in the warm, personal handling that is an integral part of the Mekan experience. The gracious owners are often standing by to greet new arrivals or working the room with a glass of wine in hand, as if they were hosting a dinner party in their home. Indeed, the house red (Pamukkale’s Arya) is a good way to start the meal, and at 40 TL a carafe, it’s also one of the more affordable (drinkable) wines in town.

If you are lucky, Mari, the boisterous chef, will make an appearance along with the meze tray. On a recent visit, she took one look at us and immediately saw in our future the old meyhane favorite lakerda, or pickled bonito, along with an ultra-fresh salad of tomatoes and crushed walnuts dressed with pomegranate molasses, and a plate of smoked red peppers in a thick, sour yogurt. We also went for the topik, an Armenian specialty that stuck out on the meze tray like a sore thumb – or, more accurately, a softball. Made with chickpeas, potatoes, tahini and onions that are mashed together and turned into a mound that is then studded with pine nuts and dusted with cinnamon, this sweet and savory concoction is an odd assembly of flavors and textures, to say the least. It’s a novelty that people either hate or write folk songs about, but should be tried at least once.

After the cold mezes came the ara sıcak, or hot appetizers course. From this round we suggest the içli köfte, better known as kibbeh in Middle Eastern restaurants. Mari’s courage to ramp up most dishes with a bit more spicy heat than usual came through on this dish, whose color alone – a deep crimson – hinted at the strong paprika kick within. Patlıcanlı börek is a Mekan specialty from the Sephardic kitchen that is also not to be missed. Instead of the typical filling of cheese, spinach or potato, this börek’s crispy phyllo dough shell holds a smoky eggplant mash. To the veteran börek eater, this version is at first alarming and, shortly thereafter, extremely pleasing.

The entrées at Mekan, including köfte (meatballs) and fresh fish, are prepared simply, generally on the grill. When on offer, we opt for a plate of hamsi, or Black Sea anchovies, which are coated with cornmeal and cooked on a flat, lightly oiled griddle. This preparation does this small fish justice, as does the presentation, in a perfect fan shape on the plate: 20 little exclamation points of briny flavor, all attached at the tail.

Mekan’s uncommon ethnic specialties and quiet atmosphere represent a welcome change of pace from the predictable menus and raucous surroundings that mark most dinners out in Beyoğlu’s meyhanes. Though the prices don’t differ much from those of its competitors, the quality of the food, wine and service always keep us coming back. Good hospitality, it’s clear, knows no borders.

Address: Eski Çiçekçi Sokak 3, Beyoğlu

Telephone: +90 212 252 6052

Web:

Hours: Mon.-Fri. noon-1am; Sat. 6pm-1am; closed Sunday

(photos by Monique Jaques)

via Multicultural Dining at a Friendly Istanbul Meyhane | Culinary Backstreets.

February 4, 2013
Istanbul’s Top Five Beaneries

January 18, 2013, by Istanbul Eats

Until we visited some of Istanbul’s shrines to the baked bean, we generally regarded the dish as something eaten out of a can beside railroad tracks. But Turkey takes this humble food, known as kuru fasulye, seriously; that means chefs in tall toques carefully ladling out golden beans in a rich red gravy onto monogrammed flatware, served by waiters wearing bowties and vests. Even in the least formal of Istanbul’s beaneries, the guy manning the pot has the air of a high priest who knows that his incantations alone conjure something unusually delicious out of a simple dry white legume. This is no hobo fare.

There are two general schools of bean cooking in Turkey: Black Sea and Anatolian. Beans Black Sea-style sit in a red gravy so thick with butter and laden with chunks of meat that we eat it with a fork and a hearty piece of bread. Anatolian beans, often known as Erzincan beans, are soupier and cooked in a tomato-based sauce without butter and meat. Either way, you can’t go wrong.

The following are our top five bean joints in town:

#1, Hanımeli
The far-flung district of Gaziosmanpaşa might sound like a long distance to travel for a plate of beans, but we’d already tried all of the big-name beans in this city. Selma Usta, who stakes her claim as the only female kuru fasulye master in Istanbul, had no poufy hat and starched white jacket, nor – the pride of most bean masters – a giant copper pot. But don’t be fooled by the looks of this humble little beanery in a drab suburb. It has a fanatical following.

And the beans were all that. Selma Usta prepares the plump and pale Erzincan variety in tiny batches with materials she sources personally from the city of Tokat, in the heart of Anatolia. She claimed to be holding some secrets, and we believe her. But for us, the defining feature of the dish was the butter, which was like nothing we’d encountered in Turkey. Selma’s farm-fresh Tokat butter gave the dish a strong flavor and filled the dining room with its intoxicating musk. This superior ingredient, like a rocket booster, shot the dish beyond the realm of worldly beans to where it now floats – in our minds at least – in bean heaven.

Address: 1028. Sokak 4, Gaziosmanpaşa (near the Taşköprü stop on the T4 metro line)
Telephone: +90 212 477 1706

Web:

Hours: 8am-8pm; closed Sunday

#2, Fasuli Lokantası
The beans at Fasuli Lokantası glow unbelievably orange, as if the chef slipped a little something radioactive in the pot. Whatever the recipe, these beans are among the best we’ve had in Istanbul. Stiffened by a whole lot of butter, the gravy and beans achieve almost the same creamy consistency. The cool, crisp raw onions and pickled hot peppers are a welcome balance to the richness of the dish, although their aroma stays with you long after your meal. Host to a loyal lunch crowd, this white-tablecloth establishment also serves up other Black Sea specialties, including muhlama (a sort of Turkish fondue), stuffed chard leaves and corn bread. The location, across the street from Tophane’s nargile cafés and near the Karaköy waterfront, is an added bonus.

Address: Kılıç Ali Paşa Caddesi 6, Tophane
Telephone: +90 212 243 6580

Web: http://www.fasuli.com.tr/

Hours: 11am-11pm

#3, Hüsrev
A severe man in a monogrammed blazer stands at the door to Hüsrev, greeting important patrons who walk in and check their coats without pausing from their telephone conversations. Eavesdrop and you’ll probably overhear major business deals being closed. It’s easy to get so caught up in the charged atmosphere that you forget that everyone has ordered nothing more than a bowl of beans accompanied by a salty yogurt drink. But that’s what’s so pleasurable about Hüsrev, which calls itself the “world’s bean gentleman.” From Hong Kong to Houston, a high-powered business lunch is propelled by a big steak and stiff drinks, but here, deals are sealed over beans.

The blond and creamy beans, bathed in a rich, red gravy, are certainly worthy of their dedicated following. We got the feeling that every variable in the recipe is tightly controlled by a board of ustas in white coats. With such resources, how could these not be the best beans in Turkey? Indeed, though we could not identify a single flaw, we were a little disappointed to find them only delicious. We were hoping for magic beans that would transform us into rich and successful people like everyone else at Hüsrev. But even though they were the most expensive beans we’d ever eaten, we weren’t that much poorer leaving the place.

Address: Dedeman İş Merkezi, Yıldız Posta Caddesi 48/1, Esentepe (located next to Dedeman Hotel in Gayrettepe)
Telephone: +90 212 347 4210

Web: http://www.husrev.com.tr

Hours: 11am-9:30pm

#4, Çömlek
You can’t miss the huge, red clay cauldron sitting behind the counter at Çömlek. The fellow with the big ladle says it’s the pot that makes these beans better than the rest. Cooking vessel aside, a serving of these beans also has the highest meat count of any we’ve tasted in Istanbul. Whereas most beans might have a shred or at best a few nuggets of tender roasted beef in there for flavor, Çömlek’s are crowned with a generous helping of meat. In such a rich dish the meat satisfyingly offsets the cloying beans, leaving the meek still able to walk away and the strong-willed able to order up another half portion. The restaurant, located on the wooded slopes above Üsküdar on the Asian side, is a bit out of the way. But for us, these are beans at their best and worth the trip.

Address: Turistik Çamlıca Caddesi 50, Çamlıca
Telephone: +90 216 316 2953

Web:

Hours: 11am-11pm

#5, Erzincanlı Ali Baba
According to historians, Tiryaki Sokak (“Addicts’ Alley”) got its name from the opium served up in its coffeehouses during Ottoman times. Though that substance has long been banned, since 1924 Ali Baba has been ladling out something equally addictive from a great copper pot: Erzincan-style baked beans. Ingredients such as onion, tomato and chili pepper are more recognizable in the soupy base, as the bean is bigger than its Black Sea counterpart. Though we remain junkies of the Black Sea variety, the Erzincan preparation is a nice change of pace and there’s no better place to try a bowl than sitting on Ali Baba’s squat stools in the shadow of the minarets of the sublime Süleymaniye Mosque.

Address: Prof. Sıddık Sami Onar Cad. 11, Süleymaniye/Fatih
Telephone: +90 212 513 6219

Web: http://www.kurufasulyeci.com/

Hours: 11am-9pm

(top photo by Yigal Schleifer; bottom three photos by Ansel Mullins)

January 20, 2013
Locavore Dining in Istanbul’s Şişhane Nabe

Certain global phenomena, like sushi, the mojito and the sitcom Golden Girls, might have arrived a bit late in Turkey, but as the world scrambles to go local, eat seasonally and connect with traditional culinary roots, Turkey is way ahead of the pack. Gram, chef Didem Şenol’s carefully curated locavore deli in Şişhane, feels perfectly in step with the stripped- down style that chefs from New York to New Zealand are favoring today.

One of Turkey’s best-known female chefs, Şenol is part of an ancient Eastern Mediterranean cooking guild that ferrets out the best of what’s around and lets the materials do the heavy lifting. The food reflects a connection with the land and the seasons that was never lost in Turkey, despite the country’s rapid modernization and urbanization. And while the menu at Gram is also undeniably contemporary, it’s nothing fancy.

That restraint is what we like so much about Şenol’s cooking at Lokanta Maya and what led us to the small, vaulted room that makes up the entire dining and cooking area at Gram. Though the end results are often recognizable in the Turkish culinary canon, the starting point of every dish is a raw material, not a recipe. This process is apparent in the cooking at Maya, and Şenol has made it even more accessible at Gram. Here, diners step up to the buffet and assemble their own combo lunch from the day’s specials, choosing either two or four dishes out of the eight to 10 available (which usually include salads, cold mezes, pastries and fish), for a quick lunch in view of the open kitchen. It almost feels like eating at an esnaf lokantası, or tradesmen’s restaurant – if an esnaf lokantası were headed by one of Istanbul’s top young chefs and the esnaf were composed of ladies who lunch.

On a recent visit, we joined the other diners around the communal table and ate a delicious, chunky take on “tuna fish” with palamut (bonito), coriander seeds and orange peel. The fresh mint in yogurt, so thick it had a peanut butter effect on the roof of the mouth, muffled our cries of delight. In a spinach salad, bright pomegranate seeds harmonized with a crumbled goat’s milk tulum cheese, which was funky from the goatskin it was aged in. One of our favorites, çerkez tavuğu, seemed too precious to be eaten with a fork; we savored it on the fresh sourdough served alongside our food.

In the venue’s front entrance area, homemade sweet and savory pastries are lovingly displayed on a long, white counter, perfect for breakfast on the go or a leisurely dessert after lunch. Gram also has a nice selection of Turkish wines and is open for private dinner events.

Şenol has earned bragging rights in this town: she is the author of an excellent cookbook, was named Best Chef of 2010 by Time Out Istanbul, and runs two bustling restaurants. Yet she is still a humble chef who credits the popularity of her cooking to the quality of the materials she uses. Apparently, there’s one global trend yet to reach Turkey – the chef’s oversized ego.

Address: Meşrutiyet Caddesi 107/D, Beyoğlu

Telephone: +90 212 243 1048

Web:

Hours: 8:30am-5:30pm; closed Sunday

(photos by Ansel Mullins)

via Locavore Dining in Istanbul’s Şişhane Nabe | Culinary Backstreets.

November 20, 2012
Blog: Where to eat in Istanbul’s Grand Bazaar

Where to eat in Istanbul’s Grand Bazaar

Visitors come to the Grand Bazaar for the shopping, but they should make a point of staying for the food – the market makes an atmospheric backdrop for great restaurants where locals eat

• This post first appeared on the Culinary Backstreets blog

• Know a great place to eat in Istanbul? Add a comment

Gaziantep Burç Ocakbaşi, Istanbul

Gaziantep Burç Ocakbaşi restaurant in Istanbul’s Grand Bazaar. Photograph: Melanie Einzig

We like to think of Istanbul’s Grand Bazaar – open since 1461 – as the world’s oldest shopping mall. If that’s the case, shouldn’t the Grand Bazaar be home to the world’s oldest food court? That may be stretching the analogy a little too far, but for us the Grand Bazaar is as much of a food destination as a shopping one.

As we see it, one of the hidden pleasures of going to the bazaar (once you get past the overzealous shopkeepers hawking souvenirs) is exploring some of its quieter back alleys and interior courtyards for new dining possibilities, especially some of the smaller restaurants that cater not to tourists but rather to the locals who work in the sprawling marketplace. Here are three of our favourite places.

Gaziantep Burç Ocakbaşi

A friend directed us to Gaziantep Burç Ocakbaşi and we are forever in her debt. Located on a narrow side street off one of the Grand Bazaar’s busy thoroughfares, this unassuming grill house serves up very tasty food from Gaziantep, a city in south-east Turkey, that is considered one of the country’s culinary capitals.

Our ali nazik, tender morsels of marinated beef sitting on a bed of garlicky yogurt-eggplant purée, was perfect. The delicious salad served with it, topped with chopped walnuts and zingy pomegranate molasses, was impeccably fresh. We were even more excited about the restaurant’s speciality: extremely flavourful dolmas made out of dried eggplants and red peppers that had been rehydrated and stuffed with a rice and herb mixture, then served with yogurt on the side.

There are only a few tables, which are lined up along the length of the alleyway that is the restaurant’s home. The ambiance is provided by the strings of dried eggplant and peppers that hang above the tables, the smoke and sizzle coming from the grill and the thrum of bazaar activity all around.

• Parçacilar Sokak 12, +90 212 527 1516. Open 11am-4pm, closed Sunday

Kara Mehmet Kebap Salonu

Kara Mehmet Kebap Salonu, Istanbul Photograph: Melanie Einzig

This is one of our favourite places, not only in the Grand Bazaar but in all of Istanbul. The restaurant, a tiny hole in the wall, serves the usual assortment of kebabs – including, for the daring, kidney and liver – all expertly grilled by the mustachioed usta. A testament to the appeal of Kara Mehmet: we went there with a vegetarian friend who was so taken with the restaurant’s adana kebab that he ended up taking his first bite of meat in 30 years.

Food aside, what really draws us to Kara Mehmet is its location, deep inside the open-air courtyard of the Cebeci Han, one of the Grand Bazaar’s numerous out-of-the-way caravanserais. Compared to the bustle of the rest of the bazaar, the Cebeci Han is an oasis of calm, mostly filled with small shops where people repair rugs, rather than sell them. Even the owner of the one actual rug shop inside the courtyard seems more interested in playing backgammon with his friends than moving carpets. When you’re done with your kebab, order Kara Mehmet’s delicious künefe for dessert and a tea from the small teahouse next door and enjoy the behind-the-scenes look at bazaar life.

• İç Cebeci Han 92, +90 212 513 5520. Open 11am-5pm, closed Sunday

Aynen Dürüm

Aynen Dürüm, Istanbul Photograph: Yigal Schleifer

Aynen Dürüm is a microscopic kebab shack near the Grand Bazaar’s “currency exchange” (essentially a small alley filled with men shouting out “buy” and “sell” orders) that serves exceptionally good dürüm, or wraps. We were first struck by the feeding frenzy we saw at the tiny restaurant, where a crowd of hungry locals was chowing down with a kind of reckless abandon rarely seen in other places around town. The setup reminded us of a competitive eating contest: a double-sided outdoor counter with about 10 stools around it and a trough in the middle that holds containers overflowing with grilled peppers, sliced pickles and sprigs of parsley.

The tiny interior, meanwhile, is taken up by a charcoal grill and İsmail, the joint’s grill master, who has been fanning the flames here for 10 years. The no-nonsense İsmail takes the wrap business seriously, letting customers choose between two different kinds of lavaş (flatbread): the traditional thin variety and a thicker, chewier version. İsmail clearly sets the bar high. His restaurant’s tagline? “The Motherland of Kebab.”

We found some space at Aynen’s counter and ordered a dürüm of Adana kebab and another made with lamb shish kebab, leaving the choice of lavaş up to the griller. Our wraps arrived within minutes, each stuffed with a mixture of tomato and parsley along with the perfectly grilled meat. The Adana had a wonderful balance of meat, fat and spice, while the small morsels of tender lamb inside the second wrap were so tasty that we soon found ourselves joining the crowd and stuffing our faces with little regard for decorum.

• Muhafazacılar Sokak 29, +90 212 527 4728. Open 7am-6pm, closed Sunday

via Blog: Where to eat in Istanbul’s Grand Bazaar | Travel | guardian.co.uk.

September 28, 2012
D&D London Forms Venture to Open Restaurant in Istanbul

D&D London Ltd., the restaurant group that owns Coq d’Argent and about 30 other restaurants, formed a joint venture with Borsa Restaurants and the Turkish entrepreneur Mehmet Ali Yalcindag to open in Istanbul.

Des Gunewardena, chairman and chief executive of D&D London, says he’s optimistic for the restaurant company’s prospects. D&D is expanding into Turkey in a joint venture. Source: D&D London via Bloomberg.

The venture has secured a 14,000-square-foot (1,300 square- meter) site in Trump Towers and plans to open restaurants, private dining rooms, event spaces and a bar early in 2013.

D&D, whose venues include Paternoster Chop House and Le Pont de la Tour, said that earnings before interest, tax, depreciation, amortization and one-time items rose 3 percent from a year earlier to 6.7 million pounds ($10.9 million) in the 12 months ended March 31. Revenue from London restaurants open at least a year increased by four percent.

“I am very optimistic about our prospects for the current financial year and beyond,” Chairman and Chief Executive Des Gunewardena said today in an e-mailed statement. “Our new joint-venture partnership in Turkey will mark another exciting step.”

In recent weeks, D&D has added two new establishments serving the City of London financial district: South Place Hotel, and Old Bengal Warehouse, which consists of two restaurants, a wine shop and a bar.

(Richard Vines is the chief food critic for Muse, the arts and leisure section of Bloomberg News. He is U.K. and Ireland chairman of the World’s 50 Best Restaurants awards. Opinions expressed are his own.)

Muse highlights include Hephzibah Anderson on books, Mark Beech on music and John Mariani on wine.

via D&D London Forms Venture to Open Restaurant in Istanbul – Businessweek.

September 22, 2012