5am in Istanbul
The seagulls start calling when the sun comes up. This inevitably awakens our neighbor, who seems to use these natural alarm clocks as a reminder to light the day's first cigarette, followed quickly by the second and third. I'm already awake before them. The morning call to prayer is piped through the local mosque’s loudspeaker around 4:15 am every morning, lasting for about four minutes. I like it; it helps remind me exactly where I am in the world.
Just a quick note: we've taken many taxi rides in Istanbul. Every taxi driver has been a Galatasaray (futbol) supporter. This is likely due to where they grew up, but not entirely. Galatasaray are champions, probably the biggest club in the country, so it’s not surprising they have so many supporters. I also noticed that any taxi ride longer than 10 minutes requires the driver to smoke at least one cigarette. If we cross a bridge or go through the Europe/Asia tunnel, that will be two cigarettes. Sometimes the driver rolls down the window after lighting up; often, they don’t.
The bars were full of people watching Turkey play Portugal two nights ago. All games are in Germany, where there are roughly seven million Turkish people. Needless to say, there were a lot of Turkish supporters in Dortmund stadium on Saturday night. At one point, I heard the commentator say, “This is supposed to be a non-smoking stadium!” 😂🇹🇷❤️⚽️🚬
Friday, I ate both the best and worst food of our trip. The worst place doesn't need any mention. However, for dinner, I scored a seat at the chef’s counter at Turk Fatih Tutak. It's been open for 4.5 years and has two Michelin stars. Each course was better than the last—really outstanding food by a young chef who was right there in the kitchen until the last plate went out. I told him, “If I could, I would come back tomorrow and eat the same meal all over again. Bravo, chef! I knew the moment I walked in and smelled the curry that I made the right choice.”
Our apartment is in Kadikoy, on the Asian side of the city. The decision to stay here for the week has proven to be very wise. Not only are we a mere 900 meters from Fenerbahce’s (futbol) home ground, we are also in a neighborhood full of Turkish people. Most visitors to Istanbul opt to stay near the popular sites on the European side. I suppose you could compare Kadikoy to Oakland, Ca or Brooklyn, NY for my friends in the USA. Lots of great food, football, and street art here.
The Muslim holiday of Eid ul Adha was June 16-19, coinciding with our arrival in Istanbul. Some businesses have been closed—including the Grand Bazaar. This did not dissuade thousands of people from using these work-free days to descend upon the area en masse. Wow! Add a couple of cruise ships in the port, and the narrow streets of old Istanbul quickly turned into a mosh pit of slow-moving tourists who couldn’t seem to get out of each other’s way.
We are quite adept in mosh pits and can emerge from these difficult situations better than most humans. That said, large crowds are a drag, and it became very clear that when we return to visit Istanbul’s big tourist sites later this week, we must get to them very early in the day and leave before noon.
Amie (wife) scheduled a three-hour painting class for herself today. I have zero ability as a visual artist, so I chose to go out on my own for a few hours. The studio was in a gorgeous four-story home not far from Hagia Sophia and the Blue Mosque. Nearby, the old palace grounds have been converted into a nice public park with lots of trees and open space. Many families were having a picnic on the lawn. I found a vacant seat across from two couples who were spending the day together. They were middle-aged. The men sat on a bench, dressed in working-class clothes—dark pants, short-sleeve collared shirts with cigarette packs in the pocket. The wives sat behind them on a blanket, wearing burkas and hijabs. Both women had thermoses of tea and food for their husbands. Breakfast was olives, yogurt, cheese, and bread. I was fascinated by their whole setup. The men never talked to the women and vice versa. In reality, none of them did much talking. I was there for nearly two hours. No cell phones were used. No text messages were sent or received. In fairness, their day seemed kind of dull and boring. However, it very well might have been the best day imaginable for them. Maybe it was one of the few days off from work these geezers get all year. Maybe sitting quietly on a park bench, drinking tea, on a beautiful summer day is all they ever want. Maybe they were watching me, wondering where my wife was. Maybe they were wondering why this American is sitting across from us with no food, no tea, no cigarettes—just doing nothing!?
Turkey is a big country with many different cultures that can be seen in the faces of the people. It can also be seen and tasted in the food. My personal theory has always been that food gets better the closer you get to a border. Turkey shares a border with Greece, Bulgaria, Georgia, Syria, Armenia, Iran, Iraq, and Azerbaijan. The food has been stellar so far.
Musa Daðdeviren is a well known chef here in Istanbul. His restaurant Çiya Sofrası complex
takes up almost an entire block and they are nearly always busy. Netflix’s Chef’s Table did an excellent episode about him in season 5. This isn’t Michelin-star cuisine. This is real handcrafted food, made with delicious local ingredients, and lots and lots of passion. Bravo, chef. I have so much respect for people like you. It is no wonder why so many people love your food.
Yea man. This is my favorite piece you’ve written. Understated observation with straight forward writing. No pretentious vocabulary. I felt like I was there experiencing what you were. Thanks!