Istanbul, Turkey
Flat White
Hangover Antidote.
Fill Coffee House, Bozkurt Mahallesi, Eşref Efendi Sokak, No 64/A, Kurtuluş
In our drunken stupor, we made plans with Ricardo to go get Turkish Breakfast in this one spot that has the most amazing flatbread. Because Yennie hadn’t gotten her drunk food, she woke up with an appetite reserved for this amazing flatbread. We went to another local coffee shop to tide us over with some coffee, but our morning and early afternoon (‘cause you know how these things work out) was spent waiting to get this flatbread.
Well, the wait was worth it. TOTALLY WORTH IT. We feasted on a spread of shepherd’s salad, fresh butter, honeycomb, hard cheese, coddled eggs with beef, dry cured olives, and that flatbread. OMG, OMG. As we polished off and licked off our fingers, we decided that we would get drunk just to have this meal hungover. There were a few framed pictures of local politicians and prominent businessmen (like the former chairman of the Turkish soccer federation) posing with the restaurant owner and some of this famous flatbread, so we knew this was serious.
As we settled the bill, we saw that there were about 3 women in the back, baking this flatbread. We all had to go take a peek and see where the magic happens. The dough is rolled out into thin sheets, about 1/4-inch thick and then placed on the inner wall of a tandoor, or Armenian tonir, with a stick outfitted with a concave cushion - basically a couch pillow. The heat, mixed with the flour-dusted air made it feel like the best place in the world.
Ricardo then escorted us to the weekly flea market in the neighborhood, where we perused Turkish antiques, bric-a-brac, and records. We have been listening to “Nick the Chopper” by Barış Manço, a famous Turkish singer from the 70s. The song is about a lumberjack who chops down trees and later meets the wrath of said trees, who “strangle him with their branches.” A great message on conservation. 🙌🌍🌿 We saw loads of Barış Manço records and vintage photos of pre-republic Turkey. Yennie even got a deal on some kitschy evil eye charms. Maşhalla!
We all went back to our apartments to take a nap. Bryan explained that we were tired from the honeycomb, which is very high on the glycemic index. So effectively, we were all crashing from a sugar high, compounded by our hangovers. #plausible.
Dinner was going to be at Çiya, one of Istanbul’s most famous and beloved restaurants. We took the ferry to the “Asian Side” of the city, located in what used to be called Anatolia. Çiya is where you go to eat the food you grew up with, the food your grandmother cooked for you, the food you can’t make anymore. The owner of this restaurant is a food historian and has traversed Turkey to document and revive the foodways of this country, which extends far past its current geopolitical boundaries. Apparently, meal at Çiya can bring you to tears.
Though we weren’t brought to tears, we made food memories of our own. We had meze of different herb salads, pickled peppers and whole garlic (#holla), “Bride” Soup, köfte with stewed cherries, stewed lamb with eggplant…it left us speechless. Ricardo came to this restaurant on his birthday last year and we could see why. It was so damn delicious. Turkish cuisine is the best we’ve had in all our travels. Yennie thinks Turkish food might be second to Korean food for her. 😮
Istanbul, you’re 4/4. Let’s keep it up. Also, #godubs.
N/A, “No/Alcohol”
😅
