For some six centuries, the Ottoman Empire spread out from the Arabian Peninsula to the Danube River, and its food developed right along with the Empire. There is no doubt that Turkish food now ranks among the greatest and most distinctive cuisines of the world. Unlike other cuisines, for example, that of France, which relies largely on the sauce, a Turkish cook simply varies the way he or she cooks meats, fish, vegetables, pastries, and fruits. There are, for example, at least forty different ways to prepare eggplant. It is said that when the Sultan Abdulaziz entertained the Empress Eugénie (wife of Napoleon III) at Topkapi Palace, she especially loved a particular eggplant dish, a purée. She sent her own chef to the kitchens of the palace with the aim of getting the recipe. According to the story, the chef dutifully went along to the palace kitchens, equipped with recipe book and kitchen scales, but the Sultan’s chef wanted nothing to do with either of the latter. He took one look, grabbed both book and scales, and threw them away, saying haughtily: “An imperial chef cooks with his feelings, his eyes, and his nose.” (2) Although the story may be apocryphal, it is true that the best Turkish cooks never use a recipe. Instead, they gather the best and freshest ingredients possible, and then cook, not only with their “feelings, eyes, and nose,” but also with their heart.
Dozens of varieties of fish thrive in the seas and fresh waters of Turkey and the fruit and vegetables are fabulous. No meal is complete without beverages, and in Turkey, even the drinking water is important. One can still find drinking water aficionados, people who know from which spring a particular water comes, and have cultivated preferences. In the old days, people typically chose water from different springs to drink with different foods. There are also excellent Turkish wines (certain varieties of Turkish grapes are even exported to France for blending with French wines), and we mustn’t forget rakı, Turkey’s national drink, distilled from grapes, flavored with aniseed, and reminiscent of the Greek ouzo and the French pernod. Rakı is usually served in tall, cylindrical shaped glasses. Some people drink it straight, and then it is crystal clear, but most prefer drinking it with water and ice. As the water is added, the color changes and becomes a translucent white. An acquired taste, rakı is very strong and very potent, which is why it is sometimes called ‘lion’s milk.’ Rakı is delicious with slices of white cheese (beyaz peynir) (the best is a full fat, slightly firm type with a rather strong, yet fresh flavor) and cantaloupe (kavun), and it is the beverage of choice to have with fish.
As to the fish, according to Cengiz Bey, a fisherman friend of mine from Rumeli Hisarı, in days gone by there were 124 varieties of fish in the Bosphorus alone. Although the number of varieties has diminished because of ecological damage, there are still many varieties available, all absolutely delectable, from the Bosphorus, the Sea of Marmara, the Aegean, the Black Sea, and the Mediterranean. Imagine that. By visiting just one country, you can enjoy fish from five seas! I know one restaurant where there are no less than 28 varieties listed on the menu. And I haven’t even mentioned the different varieties of fresh water fish that are available.
Ordering fish is by no means easy. For example, you don’t simply say you want tuna fish. You must specify whether you want torik, a large tuna fish, or palamut, a short-finned tuna fish, a year younger than torik. And simply telling the waiter you want blue fish won’t work, because he will want to know whether you want çinakop, which is baby blue fish, or lüfer, which is normal sized, or sankanat, medium-sized, or kofana, which is large.
Let’s talk about the vegetables and fruit. There are many varieties of each kind of fruit and vegetable, and the flavor and freshness of the produce here is well known. Although most can be obtained all year round, for a price, real connoisseurs know the best season to shop for each, the time when the fruit or vegetable is at its best, most plentiful, and cheapest: eggplant in the summer, especially in June; tomatoes in June; beans and peas, end of May through June; cherries, beginning of June; plums, 15 May, with other varieties successively reaching ideal ripeness throughout the summer; and grapes, end of August. Each vegetable and fruit has different varieties, and this is common knowledge. It is not surprising, when ordering fruit in a restaurant (lokanta) to specify which kind you want. You might say, for example, that you want Izmir peaches.
In spite of the inevitable, often negative effects of modernization and globalization, a propensity for attention to detail remains deeply imbedded in the culture and one prime example is the care taken with the displays at fruit and vegetable stands. I remember once finding myself in one of the most disagreeably crowded and noisy parts of the city, when I stopped dead in front of a vegetable cart, just to look in amazement. The vendor had arranged the vegetables with what could only have been love. It was incredible. More care had gone into arranging those vegetables than most people put into getting dressed in the morning. Oranges, interspersed with limes and lemons, had been arranged in artful rows, and succulent looking green beans had been lined up so they looked like so much green lace. I bought a half-kilo of apples I didn’t really need just because they were gorgeous. While those apples lasted, every time I bit into one the whole scene came back to me—that exquisite caring about details manifested by those vegetables
In restaurants, fruit is generally brought to the table with Turkish coffee and crème de menthe after dinner, but in most nightclubs, you can order a fruit extravaganza. This is usually brought to the table by two, sometimes even three waiters, and is comprised of fruit arranged on a wire frame, as tall as two feet, and usually decorated with burning sparklers or small candles. Men who are very serious about a woman will often order this in order to impress her and show her how much he cares about her. (The strategy works, particularly when the arrival of the fruit is accompanied by strolling gypsy musicians, as it often is.)
If you travel to Turkey you should know that food and eating food are considered very important. A meal is not something to be take in haste, but an experience to savor. People traditionally stay at the table for an evening meal for several hours, and when they raise their glasses to toast, say “Şerefé.” Şerefé is the old Turkish word for ‘honor,’ and when they say this they are drinking to the honor of the table. The table is very important in Turkey. People share ideas and feelings around a table, along with food. In Turkey, the dining table is the symbol par excellence of bereket, which means fullness and abundance, on every level.
What does a typical full course meal consist of? You begin with some hot and cold appetizers, called mezzeler. First, your waiter brings a huge tray with small, white porcelain dishes containing a varities of cold mezzeler from which to choose. You can order things like stuffed vine leaves with olive oil (zeytinyağlı yaprak), eggplant purée (beğendi), cold bean stew (falsulye pilaki), fresh green beans in olive oil (zeytinyğlı taze fasulye), or white cheese (beyaz peynir). You can also choose some hot mezze, for example: savory rolls (sigara böreği), Circassian chicken (Çerkez tavuk), stuffed mussels (midiye dolması) or lady’s thigh meatballs (kadınbudu köfte).
While you are savoring your mezzeler you can look at the menu and think about whether to have meat or fish. Meat dishes include everything from meat stew (tas kebap), made with beef or lamb, shish kebab, usually made with beef, or Sultan’s Delight (hünkâr beğendi), made with lamb, beef or veal. These are all delicous, but if you have come in the spring or the summer I recommend that you try the fish.
When the fish is brought to the table, usually on an oval shaped, your waiter will ask if you want him to debone it for you. Unless you are experienced, I recommend that you let him do it. This is an interesting process to watch. After the bone is deftly extricated, you will be presented with a fish that appears to have been untouched. Depending on the variety of fish that you ordered, however, there may still be some very tiny bones left, so take care.
After your main course, comes dessert. Try baked quince ((fırında ayva), or traditional Turkish pastry (baklava), nightingale’s nest (bülbül yuvası), or harem navels (kadın gobeği).
Finally, fruit artfully arranged on a white porcelain plate, will be brought to the table with Turkish coffee (türk kahvesi) and crème de menthe. You will order your coffee sade (black), orta (normally sweet) or şekerli (very sweet), and it will be served in a very small, demitasse-sized cup, with a glass of cold water. You must first drink some of the water, to cleanse the palate, so that you are ready to fully appreciate the flavor of the coffee, and you drink again, after you finish. At this point, your waiter will bring some cologne. In days gone by, rose water in a tall, slender, ornate silver ewer would have been used. Nowadays, we usually make do with lemon cologne in a glass bottle. Put your hands out, palms up and close together so that the waiter can pour a small amount into your hands. Then, rub the cologne on your hands, wrists, and discreetly, on the sides of your neck and throat.
It has been humourosly observed that the Turkish language basically consists of stock phrases that are used to address every imaginable situation. While the language is far richer than that would suggest, it is true that there is something etiquette requires one say on many occasions. Traditionally in Turkey, when someone wants to praise the cook, he or she will say “Elinize sağlık,” meaning “Health to your hands.” And when someone remarks on how delicious (lezzetli) a particular dish is, one’s host or dinner companion will say “Afiyet olsun,” which means “May it be good for you.”
If you do travel to Turkey, you will invariably partake of a meal like the one I have just described. Allow me to say in advance “Afiyet olsun.”
1. ‘Alaturka’ is a Turkish word meaning ‘in the Turkish style.’
2. This story is recounted in Neşet Eren’s beautiful The Delights of Turkish Cooking (Redhouse Press: Istanbul, n.d.), p. 7. New edition re-titled The Art of Turkish Cooking (Hippocrene International Cookbook Classics, 1993). Neşet Hanım grew up with fine cooking, since her family were the heads of the Bektaşi Order of Sufis, and were therefore obligated to cook for countless guests.