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I ran across this
article in the "Los Angeles Times - Travel Section" and thought it
might be of interest to our cruisers headed that way in the
future...
A food lover's tour of Istanbul, Turkey
Some of the city's best restaurants boast stunning views.
Sip a raki aperitif while you enjoy the sights and
Turkey's celebrated cuisine.
By Leslie Brenner, Special to The Los Angeles Times
01:26 PM PDT, September 17, 2008
The tastes of Istanbul, Turkey.
Here come the mezes: minted, garlicky yogurt, dusky roasted eggplant
salad. A waiter presents them on a huge tray: glistening artichoke
crowns, a spread of ground walnuts and sweet red peppers. And wait,
how about that beautiful mushroom salad spiked with scallions?
The glow of a late-summer sunset floods the rooftop terrace as
couples and families and groups of friends feast on Turkey's version
of tapas, sipping from glasses of the milky-looking anise-flavored
aperitif called raki, unwinding and talking and enjoying the
spectacular view of the Old City. Scores of mosques, with their
graceful domes and minarets, light up one after another as the sky
turns apricot and rose and purple.
This is Istanbul -- glorious and glittering -- and it's dinner time
in a busy kebab house.
The cuisine of Turkey has a reputation among food lovers as
being among the world's most compelling, and I've come --
with my favorite cohorts-in-dining, my husband, Thierry, and our
11-year-old son, Wylie -- to see what all the fuss is about. We've
long dreamed of visiting Istanbul, and we have only 3 1/2 days,
after exploring Turkey's Aegean and Mediterranean coasts, to take in
the city. Where to begin? In my view, the best way to soak up
culture quickly is at the table.
Istanbul's magnificence lies in its history, in the layering of
cultures -- Byzantine on top of Hellenic, Islamic on top of
Byzantine and then modern on top of all of that.
Built on hills, all rising from the Sea of Marmara, the Golden Horn
and the Bosporus, it's a visual city that's all about space and
light and shifting horizons. It straddles Europe and Asia literally;
the shining waterway through the city known as the Golden Horn
separates the two continents. Fortunately for us, there's no better
vantage point from which to take it all in than on a restaurant's
terrace.
That point hasn't been lost on Istanbul's restaurateurs, and
remarkably, some of the best places with the most impressive cooking
have the most spectacular views.
Hamdi, one of Istanbul's great traditional kebab houses,
on a square in the Old City's Grand Bazaar district, is flanked on
one side by Yeni Camii (the Ottoman imperial New Mosque) and fronted
by Eminonu Harbor and the Galata Bridge. On two sides of the square
is the old Egyptian Spice Bazaar. Olive stands, fruit mongers, tea
shops, nut shops and spice merchants compete for attention with
colorful wares and beguiling aromas.
Nab a reservation on Hamdi's roof terrace (try for the balcony), as
we did when we were here in late July, and dinner is a fabulous show
-- especially on a Sunday, as wedding boats shoot off fireworks in
the harbor. As the sky turns from periwinkle to midnight blue and
the lights of the Old City come up, it's gorgeous.
Start with cold appetizers, or mezes, good with beer or wine, but
best with raki, similar to French pastis or Greek ouzo. Then come
hot mezes. Hamdi is known for icli kofte -- tasty fried quenelles of
bulgur filled with meat. Lahmacun, a thin pizza topped with seasoned
lamb and parsley, garlic and hot pepper, is even better
But the kebabs are the star attraction. Be sure to keep some haydari
-- thick, garlicky yogurt with dried mint -- on the table. It will
cool the palate.
Beyti kebap -- a combination of minced veal and lamb, seasoned with
sweet peppers, parsley and garlic -- is served with rice pilaf and a
bright little salad of parsley and onions. We order yogurtlu kebap
(yogurt kebab), choosing grilled lamb skewers over urfa (half veal,
half lamb, minced). It's terrific, served on thick yogurt, with
sliced ripe tomatoes.
Fistikli kebap (veal and lamb kebab with pistachios) is a specialty
of the house. The idea is to wrap a morsel of it in warm bread
that's a cross between a pita and a flour tortilla, adding a bit of
grilled tomato and parsley-scallion salad. It's wonderful.
MODERN AND ANCIENT
It might be tempting to stick with traditional food in an ancient
place with such a rich culinary heritage, but history lives and
breathes here, and that makes Istanbul unique. It is ancient but
also ultra-modern. Lots of women cover their heads in scarves and
hide their bodies in long coats, but others wear shoulder-baring
dresses. Turkey yearns to join the European Union, and the city's
culture -- with its energetic night life, forward-looking
architecture and insatiable thirst for commerce -- announces it
loudly and clearly.
In the Karakoy district, next to a grand-looking Baroque 16th
century mosque, stands the streamlined 21st century Istanbul
Museum of Modern Art, opened in 2005 and already one of the
city's most important cultural attractions. A well-presented exhibit
in the permanent collection chronicles the history of Turkish modern
art, which developed as a result of a decree handed down by Mustafa
Kemal Ataturk, the Republic of Turkey's founder and first president.
Ataturk decreed that Turkey must modernize, and that included art.
The exhibit is appealing because, although the works have much in
common with better-known European art pieces of the late 19th and
early 20th century, Turkey's Asian exoticism and eventual
revolutionary zeal make them feel very different.
Taking a walk through the revelatory historical exhibit and getting
a handle on the country's march toward modernity perfectly sets up
our lunch: a modernist take on Turkish cooking in the sleek
museum restaurant/cafe. Take a seat on the terrace and get a
splendid view across the Bosporus.
If you're lucky, that is. The day we show up, a cruise ship is
parked in front of the terrace, blocking the view. (View-seekers
should call the museum to see whether a ship will be there the day
of their visit.)
We order sandwiches, wondering why my trusted cookbook author friend
Anya von Bremzen has recommended a place with such simple fare.
We're ready to go when I notice a man at the next table perusing a
different menu, a full list of appetizers and main courses.
As it happens, that lunch menu -- filled with inventive, ambitious,
interesting dishes -- isn't available until 1 p.m., and we were
seated at 12:50.
In any case, though we are sated, we have to sample the real deal.
To the wait staff's amusement, we start over again, ordering an
unusual appetizer of tiny house-made Turkish lamb ravioli in thick,
garlic-tinged yogurt, and a cool confit artichoke crown, preserved
in superb fruity olive oil with fresh favas, carrots and potatoes.
We manage a bite of dessert -- a creamy and deep-flavored baked rice
pudding. We'll be back.
Tout Istanbul is buzzing about chef Mehmet Gurs and his rooftop
terrace restaurant, Mikla, atop the Marmara Pera Hotel in the
fashionable Beyoglu district. There's a relaxed pace to dining
in Istanbul, and when we arrive in time for our 8 p.m. reservation
(we learned later that most people dine after 8:30), the maitre d'
suggests a drink first in the rooftop bar.
The 360-degree view is the most spectacular we've seen yet -- from
the 14th century Genovese Galata Tower, across the Golden Horn to
Topkapi Palace, Seraglio Point and even the Blue Mosque off in the
distance.
A few steps down at the restaurant, the small terrace is bounded
only by the glass of the windows, and the drop is dizzying.
Inside, a stylish-looking international crowd is starting to settle
in. It's a bit more relaxed than on the windy terrace, and the
vistas are still stupendous from nearly every table. There's a view,
too, into the kitchen, where wonderful things are happening.
Forty-year-old Gurs -- who was born in Finland, studied cooking at
Johnson & Wales University in Rhode Island and opened his first
restaurant (Beachtown) in Istanbul in 2000 -- turns out
sophisticated dishes with a Turkish backbone and light Scandinavian
touches. He dots a paper-thin palette of pristine raw grouper with
osetra caviar, a tiny brunoise of cucumber, delicate filaments of
dill and chives. A cube of velvety marinated salmon luxuriates in
cacik, a horseradishy, creamy bubble bath.
Gurs' lamb dishes are superb.
A lightly smoked loin comes with walnut
pistou and a silky white bean purée, and
it's set off nicely by a side of
lemon-roasted romaine lettuce.
Treacle-glazed lamb entrecôte is
paired with thyme and honey-roasted
apricots. It's elegant and delicious.
For dessert, a selection of
Turkish raw milk cheeses is just the thing,
because we still have some Syrah from the
Aegean coast in our glasses. Made with cow's
milk, the cheeses come from Erzurum, Corum,
Kars, Konya and Adapazari -- a beguiling
side trip on a plate.
ROOFTOP BREAKFAST
Next morning, we're up early.
Our modest hotel -- Seven Hills, just
across the street from the Four Seasons in
Sultanahmet -- serves a beautiful buffet
on its lofty garden terrace. The morning
we arrive, checking in before our room is
ready, we head up to the roof for a Turkish
coffee.
We're blown away by the
panoramic view. The hotel sits right between
the majestic Blue Mosque and the imposing
Hagia Sofia -- the 1,400-year-old Byzantine
church that was converted to a mosque in the
15th century by the Ottomans.
Just next to the Four
Seasons, we can see an archaeological
excavation in progress, and just beyond,
Topkapi Palace, red-tiled roofs, the Sea of
Marmara.
We're blown away, too, at the
price of drinks -- $5 for a Turkish coffee
(and not a great one, at that) and $5 for a
soda.
So the gorgeous buffet
breakfast, included in the price of the
room, is quite a nice surprise: ripe figs,
luscious melons and peaches; sliced
cucumbers, tomatoes and sausages; olives,
sliced cheeses, breads, jams, terrific
yogurt. The coffee's fine, but the waiter
soon warms up to us and offers us excellent
espresso. Judging from the other terraces in
eyeshot, the hotel rooftop terrace breakfast
buffet is a regular Istanbul thing.
Many visitors wouldn't dream
of visiting Istanbul without taking a cruise
or ferry ride up the Bosporus, the strait
that connects the Sea of Marmara with the
Black Sea to the north. For us it's a long
taxi ride -- because there's no ferry stop
in the village of Rumeli Hisari
halfway up the strait, where we have a
fish restaurant on the water in our
sights. We arrive a little late to visit the
medieval Fortress of Europe, built by Mehmet
the Conqueror in the 15th century, but early
enough for a stroll along the Bosporus.
At Rumeli Iskele restaurant,
everyone sits out on the patio -- right on
the water -- and the view of the strait, the
Fatih Sultan Mehmet Bridge, and Asia on the
other side -- is splendid.
We start with cold seafood
mezes -- a chunk of lightly cured bonito
with a fantastic texture, sitting on a slice
of red onion; impossibly tender octopus with
sliced cornichons; a nicely briny stuffed
mussel.
A cool breeze blows through
the patio, which is starting to fill up with
a well-heeled crowd in polo shirts and
summer dresses.
Next comes shrimp served in
the earthenware dish in which it was baked,
with sweet red and green peppers and herbs;
we soak up the sauce with warm bread.
The raki flows, and
soon our main courses arrive: grilled fish
so fresh it must have been pulled straight
from the sea -- whole sea bass and grouper
and mackerel. At another table, a waiter
presents tuzda levrek -- salted bass
roasted in a salt crust -- flambé. The
late-summer sky is darkening, and the flames
dance about. Another sip of raki, a
bite of sweet sea bass, a taste of
super-ripe grilled tomato, the Asian lights
starting to twinkle across the strait. What
could be better than this?
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