After a long week of work meetings in February I walked into the Galata neighborhood of Istanbul, climbed to the top floor of a trendy hotel, sat outside at a table for one in a bar with no other patrons, opened my turquoise Moleskine and wrote:
“What is there to say about the first sunny day in Istanbul, meetings behind me, time to myself, exploring nooks, crannies, and beautiful places…and now drinking wine, eating olives and nuts on the Forte Hotel rooftop overlooking all of Istanbul? How can one put into words the luck they must have to live this beautiful life, to see so much of the world and it’s people, to smell these smells and see this view: the Golden Horn, the boats in the Sea of Marmara, the Galata tower, the Bosphorus Strait, the beautiful mosques, the hills with Turkish homes, restaurants, cafes. Maybe the richest people in life have the depth of soul to appreciate the utter beauty and blessings around them all the time.”
Since I hadn’t had maybe two sips of wine at time of drafting this should speak to the pure awe and utter headiness you’ll experience should you be so lucky to visit this incredible city.
I didn’t even know then how much there was to discover. Later that weekend, I left my hotel on foot, winding down steep stone streets to Sa Va Anatolian Breakfast House. Turkish breakfast, a symphony of colors and textures, all conveyed in teensy bowls, is most often shared with others. It is one of those experiences for which the term “conviviality” exists. I was having it alone.
While indisputably too much food for one person, I luxuriated in scraping every last grain of sesame paste out of its little bowl with my fresh simit—a ring shaped sesame bread ubiquitous in this city—without needing to meet a tablemate’s gaze. Yes it’s a lot of little dishes. Olives, yogurt spreads, honeys, peppers. Yes you’ll want to try every single one.
As I’d gotten to Sa Va early, I had my choice of tables, and sat alone on the quiet, unassuming front porch. I watched as the morning stretched on and a line began to form. Waiters leaned up against the side of the restaurant (which feels more like a house), taking smoke breaks and sipping tea from Istanbul’s tulip-shaped glass teacups. In line I noticed a dad waiting, holding in his arms his daughter who must’ve been about three- or four-years old. In her hand was a full sized carrot, and she was stuffing it unrelentingly into her dad’s mouth. Both were in a fit of giggles as he did his best to chomp it down as quickly as she was stuffing.
Maybe it was the daddy daughter carrot thing, but I found myself fighting back tears as I neared the end of my meal. Every bite of this breakfast was so rich and delicious. Such care put into the presentation and experience, the depth of tradition on display. It was moving—the pleasure that had been infused in this daily ritual.
After breakfast at Sa Va I needed a walk, and Istanbul is a perfect place to explore on foot. It being February, vendors were roasting chestnuts on the corners. The sky was in turns gray, adding a moody ambiance to this hilly, richly layered center of the world. In a sunnier moment I took the ferry across the Strait to the “Asian side”, a neighborhood called Kadıköy. Seagulls swarmed our boat, dipping and diving across our wake. I had heard about a market in Kadıköy where locals buy produce, fish, olives, and can sit for a casual meal.
I walked around vibrant Kadıköy, watching families enjoy fried fish and tea. Quietly I thanked the universe I hadn’t stayed only on the “European side”, missing this whole slice of Istanbul life. Eventually I turned down a covered passageway which turned out to be lined with book sellers. Ducking into one, I discovered the books were all antiques. I bought two intricately decorated Qurans, one in Ottoman Turkish and one in French. As I was paying I commented that the books were beautiful. He responded that the customer was beautiful. Immediately I regretted not buying more Qurans from this discerning vendor.
It’s worth mentioning I became a certifiable Turkish delight addict this trip. Walking home each night of my ten-day trip, concerned somehow that I might be running low on the tin of desserts I’d purchased the night previous, I’d find an excuse to duck into one of the many Turkish delight shops, treats piled high in the window. My favorites came from MADO and Hafız Mustafa 1864 Pera. Each new tin was a jewel box, almost as much fun to look at as to eat.
If you are person who longs to ingest every fascinating corner of this earth, you cannot miss Istanbul. Visit the Hagia Sofia and the Blue Mosque, of course, walk the streets of the Çukurcuma neighborhood, have a hammam (or three). Drink raki. End a day with dinner at Ali Ocakbaşı in Karaköy, watching the sun go down over the Golden Horn. Have a strong, gritty Turkish coffee at a café table by yourself as cats laze nearby. Civilizations converged here as trade, people, and history passed through this city on the water, century after century. Istanbul contains the history of the world and it’s peoples in its hills. You can feel it in every step. In every bite.
In a later moment from my Moleskine, I wrote:
“I don’t know if the perfect day exists, but if it does, this is one.”
Istanbul will do that to you.
Les Bonnes Adresses
Sa Va Anatolian Breakfast House
Cihangir, Bakraç Sk. No: 34 A D:B, 34433 Beyoğlu/İstanbul, Türkiye
Phone: +90 541 388 16 46
Kadıköy market
Caferağa, Muvakkıthane Cd. No:18, 34710 Kadıköy/İstanbul, Türkiye
Ali Ocakbaşı (Karaköy location)
Grifin Han, Tersane Caddesi, Kardeşim Sk. No:45, 34420 Beyoğlu/İstanbul, Türkiye
Phone: +90 212 293 10 11
MADO (several locations, but this was mine)
Cvk Hotels, Gümüşsuyu, Sıraselviler Cd. No:11, 34437 Beyoğlu/İstanbul, Türkiye
Phone: +90 212 249 3347
Hafız Mustafa 1864 Pera (several locations, but this was mine)
Kuloğlu, İstiklal Cd. No:121, 34433 Beyoğlu/İstanbul, Türkiye
Phone: +90 505 188 4834
Café reading:
From Life Itself: Turkey, Istanbul, and a Neighborhood in the Age of Erdoğan
By Suzy Hansen