Anatolia: Adventures in Turkish Cooking (2016)
LUNCH
Traditionally in Turkey, lunch was no big deal. People ate before they went out to work in the fields, and carried with them simple snacks such as bread, olives and cheese. In the late nineteenth century, cheap eateries started appearing in the cities, where tradesmen and shopkeepers could grab a soup, a stew, and maybe a börek or a kebap. These places came to be called lokanta (from the Italian word locanda).
In the 1980s, the lunchtime habit of going quick and casual made Turks in Istanbul an easy target for the American fast-food chains, and for a while it looked as if the midday formula of soup-stew-kebap was going to turn into Coke-fries-Big Mac.
Then Musa Dağdeviren appeared and went in exactly the opposite direction. He travelled round the countryside and spoke to farmers, bakers, butchers, picklers, pastrymakers and home cooks, and figured out how to recreate Turkey’s vast regional diversity in a commercial kitchen.
Now his three lokantas—Çiya, Çiya Sofrası and Çiya Kebap—in the Istanbul port suburb of Kadıköy are packed every lunchtime with people desperate to test how many of the fifty dishes on display can be crammed into their bellies, and looking forward to returning three months later to find the new season has brought a different array of ‘forgotten’ recipes. Young chefs have been inspired by Musa’s ‘rediscoveries’ to open bistro-style lokantas across Istanbul.
Musa grew up in a family of bakers in southeastern Anatolia, and moved to Istanbul in the late 1970s to operate the wood-fire oven in his uncle’s kebap house. He became obsessed with preserving the great regional repertoire that seemed to be disappearing in the rush towards 'modernisation’. Here’s a rough translation of his philosophy:
I travel all over the country to cook with people In their homes and also study old books to find new leads. I get very excited when I discover new poor-people’s dishes, because I believe only poor people can create great food. If a man has money, he can buy anything, but a person who has nothing must create beauty from within.
Since he opened his first Çiya in 1987, Musa has regularly found himself in dispute with the Turkish food establishment which is prone to engage in nationalist myth-making and wishful thinking about our cuisine. He fights fantasies with facts, publishing a quarterly magazine called Yemek ve Kültür (Food and Culture), which funds scholarship on the origins of Anatolian dishes. He’s setting up a cooking school and research centre, with a seed bank that will preserve native ingredients.
Luckily for me, Musa opened his first restaurant close to my father’s tailor shop in Kadiköy, back when I was a teenager who carried a McDonald’s cup to school to show how cool was. Çiya became my favourite eating place and Musa became my food hero.
Many of the dishes in this chapter, whether rustic, regional or urban, were inspired by Musa’s food philosophy. You would be more likely to find them in Turkish homes far from Istanbul rather than in restaurants—unless you were lucky enough to live in Kadıköy.
Musa at one of his Çiya restaurants, with candied pumpkins, eggplants and olives.
PİRPİRİM AŞI
PURSLANE AND ANCIENT GRAINS STEW
Vegetarians are always surprised by how many interesting dishes the land of lamb lovers can offer. In season, this stew appears regularly on the famous ‘Fifty Bowl’ display table at Çiya restaurant in Istanbul’s Kadıköy market, using the kind of grains humans have been boiling for millennia. While it is likely that lentils and chickpeas originated in Anatolia, black-eyed peas are recent arrivals—brought from Africa in the fifteenth century for palace chefs eager to surprise the sultan.
The sour-salty green purslane, which contains more omega-3 than any other leafy vegetable, is Turkey’s favourite weed, usually consumed fresh in summer and dried in winter. In the first great work on botany, written in the fourth century BC, the Greek philosopher Theophrastus advises sowing purslane in mid-spring so you can enjoy it in summer. If you can’t find purslane, the best substitute is baby rocket (arugula).
SERVES 4
95 g (3¼ oz/½ cup) dried chickpeas
95 g (3¼ oz/½ cup) black-eyed beans
110 g (3¾ oz/½ cup) green lentils
45 ml (1½ fl oz) olive oil
1 onion
2 garlic cloves
1 tomato
½ tablespoon capsicum (pepper) paste
90 g (3¼ oz/½ cup) coarse bulgur
2 teaspoons freshly ground black pepper
1 bunch purslane (or baby rocket/arugula)
juice of ½ lemon
1 teaspoon sumac
1 tablespoon butter
2 teaspoons dried mint
2 teaspoons chilli flakes
pide bread, to serve
Cover the chickpeas with water and soak overnight. Cover the black-eyed beans with water and also soak overnight.
Strain, then rinse the chickpeas and black-eyed beans. Rinse the lentils. Boil the chickpeas in plenty of water for 20 minutes, covered, and then add the black-eyed beans and lentils and boil, covered, for another 40 minutes.
Heat the olive oil in a saucepan over medium heat. Add the onion and cook for 3 minutes, then add the garlic and cook for 1 minute more. Cut the tomato in half and then grate it into the onion, discarding the skin.
Add the three pulses to the onion mixture. Dilute the capsicum paste in 250 ml (9 fl oz/1 cup) of warm water and add it to the mix. Add the bulgur and the pepper. Bring to the boil, then reduce the heat to a simmer.
Pick the leaves from the purslane and add them, whole, to the stew. Simmer, covered, for 10 minutes. Add the lemon juice and stir in the sumac, then turn off the heat.
Melt the butter in a frying pan over medium heat. Add the mint and stir for 1 minute. Add the chill flakes and stir for 1 minute more.
Divide the stew into four bowls and drizzle with mint butter. Serve with pide.
ANALI KİZLI
‘MOTHER AND DAUGHTER’ (DUMPLING AND CHICKPEA STEW)
This complex combination of large and small dumplings in a lamb and chickpea stew comes from Malatya in eastern Anatolia, an area best known for apricots. The mothers are a mixture of beef and bulgur stuffed with minced lamb. The daughters are not big enough to have stuffing. You won’t find this dish in many restaurants—only home cooks (and my friend Musa) have the time to do it properly.
For the mums’ outer coating it’s important to choose beef with a low fat content and to knead it thoroughly so it dissolves into the bulgur.
SERVES 4
BASE
50 g (1¾ oz/¼ cup) dried chickpeas
400 g (14 oz) lamb leg
2 onions
1 tablespoon butter
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 tablespoon capsicum (pepper) paste
10 flat-leaf (Italian) parsley leaves, finely chopped
juice of ½ lemon
STUFFING
1 onion
1 tablespoon butter
150 g (5½ oz) minced (ground) lamb
½ tablespoon tomato paste
½ tablespoon capsicum (pepper) paste
½ teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
½ teaspoon cumin
SHELLS
250 g (9 oz) fine bulgur
200 g (7 oz) lean minced (ground) beef
1 egg
1 tablespoon tomato paste
1 tablespoon butter
½ tablespoon cornflour (cornstarch)
TOPPING
2 tablespoons butter
½ tablespoon dried mint
½ tablespoon chilli flakes
Cover the chickpeas with water and soak overnight.
Strain and rinse the chickpeas, place in a saucepan with 500 ml (17 fl oz/2 cups) of water and simmer, covered, for 1 hour.
While the chickpeas are simmering, make the stuffing. Finely chop the onion. Melt the butter in a saucepan over medium heat. Add the onion and cook for 3 minutes until soft. Add the minced lamb and cook for 2 minutes more.
Put the remaining ingredients in a bowl and mix with 125 ml (4 fl oz/½ cup) of water. Stir the mixture into the onion and minced lamb, and bring to the boil, then simmer, with the lid on, for 5 minutes. Set the stuffing aside.
Next, make the shells. Put all the ingredients in a mixing bowl. Slowly add 45 ml (1½ fl oz) of warm water. Wet your hands and knead for 5 minutes to make a smooth paste.
Mould the shell mixture into spheres about the size of a ping-pong ball. Put a ball in your palm and with the fingers of the other hand, make c well in the mixture. Place a teaspoon of stuffing in the middle and fold the shell back around it. Repeat to make sixteen balls. With the rest of the bulgur mixture, make about forty smaller chickpea-size balls.
Now, make the base. Chop the meat from the leg of lamb into small cubes, removing any sinews and most of the fat. Finely chop the onions. Melt the butter in a frying pan over medium heat. Add the olive oil and, when sizzling, cook the onion for 5 minutes until translucent. Add the capsicum paste and fry for 1 minute. Add the cubed lamb. Cook for 2 minutes, then add 250 ml (9 fl oz/1 cup) of water. Bring to the boil and simmerfor5 minutes.
Add the small balls (daughters) and the large balls [mothers), chickpeas and parsley to the lamb mixture. Bring back to the boil, then reduce the heat and simmer for 10 minutes. Add the lemon juice. Divide the mothers and daughters onto four plates, with the cubed lamb underneath.
For the topping, place a frying pan over medium heat and melt the butter. Add the dried mint and chilli flakes and sizzle for 4 minutes. Drizzle the mint and chilli butter over the anali kizli and serve.
TÜRLÜ
SUMMER VEGETABLE CASSEROLE
The Turkish word türlü means ‘with variety’, and implies that you can use any kind of vegetable that’s available in summer. This is sometimes called the Turkish ratatouille, but türlü has many more ingredients than the French dish, and you can even include lamb or beef and still call it türlü.
You need to layer the ingredients in a deep pot (traditionally clay), with the slowest-cooking vegetables at the bottom, and simmer it for a long time. So yes, it’s a casserole, which is normally thought of as a winter warmer. But this version, which includes green beans and okra, is perfect served cold on the hottest day, with a side of rice pilav and yoğurt. It tastes even better the next day.
SERVES 4
1 long eggplant (aubergine)
1 zucchini (courgette)
1 boiling potato
2 onions
3 garlic cloves
1 carrot
2 green bullhorn peppers (or 1 large green capsicum/pepper)
1 red capsicum (pepper)
150 g (5½ oz) green beans
100 g (3½ oz) okra
3 ripe tomatoes
45 ml (1½ fl oz) olive oil
1 thin slice of ginger
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
rice pilav, boiled rice or plain yoğurt, to serve (optional)
Preheat the oven to 180°C (350°F/Gas 4).
Peel the eggplant and zucchini and chop both into 3 cm (1¼ in) pieces. Wash and peel the potato, and chop into 3 cm (1¼ in) cubes. Finely slice the onions and chop the garlic. Peel the carrot and cut into 1 cm (½ in) pieces. Seed and chop the bullhorn pepper and capsicum into pieces about 3 cm (1¼ in) long. Cut the tips off the green beans and chop into 3 cm (1¼ in) pieces.
Cut the stalks off the okra. Score a shallow cross in the base of the tomatoes, then transfer to a heatproof bowl and cover with boiling water. Leave for 30 seconds, then plunge in cold water and peel the skin away from the cross. Roughly chop. Very finely chop the ginger.
Heat the olive oil in a large saucepan over medium heat. Add the onion and cook for 5 minutes, or until soft. Add the garlic and fry for another 2 minutes. Add the ginger, vegetables, salt, pepper and 500 ml (17 fl oz/2 cups) of water. Seal the pan with foil, then put the lid on. Simmer for 20 minutes. Turn off the heat and leave to rest for 20 minutes without opening the lid.
Serve warm with rice pilav or boiled rice, or cold with yoğurt on a hot summer day.
KUL AŞI
BEEF GOULASH
There’s too much mythology and not enough research in discussions about food in Turkey. Turkish chefs like to claim the Hungarians got their word ‘goulash’ from the Turkish term kul aşi (which means ‘common man’s dish’—a stew served to soldiers 300 years ago). But, if they’d bothered to check, they’d find that in Hungarian the word gulyas means a ‘cattle herder’, and since the ninth century, the Hungarian herders have been in the habit of carrying beef and vegetables and making a kind of stew out in the field.
Throughout the seventeenth century, the soldiers of the Ottoman Empire regularly met the soldiers of the Austro-Hungarian Empire in battles for the control of Vienna. Presumably, the Turkish troops were eating kul aşi on one side while the Hungarians were eating goulash on the other. Both would have been flavouring their stews with peppers, which arrived from the Americas in the early 1500s and were first cultivated by Turks living in Budapest.
SERVES 4
500 g (1 lb 2 oz) topside or chuck steak
2 tablespoons plain (all-purpose) flour
2 onions
4 garlic cloves
2 tomatoes
2 green bullhorn peppers (or 1 large green capsicum/pepper)
1 carrot
2 boiling potatoes
1 parsnip
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
1 tablespoon capsicum (pepper) paste
½ tablespoon tomato paste
1 bay leaf
8 celery leaves, chopped
1 tablespoon cumin
1 tablespoon chilli flakes
1 tablespoon salt
1 tablespoon freshly ground black pepper
rice pilav, to serve
Chop the beef into cubes about 3 cm (1¼ in) wide. Toss in the flour, then shake off the excess.
Finely chop the onions and the garlic. Roughly chop the tomatoes. Remove the stalks and seeds from the peppers and chop. Chop the carrot, potatoes and parsnip.
Heat the vegetable oil in a heavy-based saucepan over medium heat. Add the onions and garlic and sauté for 3 minutes. Increase the heat to medium-high and brown the beef cubes evenly for 5 minutes. Add the tomatoes, peppers, capsicum paste and tomato paste. Stir for 2 minutes. Add the bay leaf, celery leaves and 750 ml (26 fl oz/3 cups) of water, then bring to boil.
Add the vegetables and the spices. Continue to boil over medium heat for about 15 minutes, or until the potato and parsnip are soft.
Serve with rice pilav.
PAPARA
GRANDMA’S BREAD AND BEEF STEW
I learned this dish from my mother’s mother, who died in 2010 at the age of 103. Living through two world wars and three military coups, she raised three kids by herself. She knew how to survive, how to improvise and how not to waste a single grain.
I remember when she made papara the first time, from leftover bread, rice and a handful of minced meat. The origin of the dish is uncertain, but it is part of the peasant culture of Anatolia and the Balkans. In Istanbul during the seventeenth century, there were shops that sold ‘papara cubed bread’ as an ingredient for this dish—because, of course, the rich gourmands didn’t have stale bread of their own.
SERVES 4
375 g (13 oz/1½ cups) plain yoğurt
1 onion
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
200 g (7 oz) minced (ground) lamb or veal
500 ml (17 fl oz/2 cups) beef stock
1 tablespoon tomato paste
3 slices stale bread
2 tablespoons butter
185 g (6½ oz/1 cup) leftover rice (optional)
2 garlic cloves
1 teaspoon chilli flakes
1 teaspoon sweet paprika
1 tablespoon dried mint
Preheat the oven to 180°C (350°F/Gas 4).
Place the yoğurt on a sheet of muslin (cheesecloth) and tie up the corners. Hang the muslin over a pot for 3 hours to allow the yogurt to thicken.
Finely chop the onion. Heat the vegetable oil in a frying pan over medium heat. Add the onion and sauté for 3 minutes. Add the meat and cook for 5 minutes. Add the beef stock and bring to the boil. Mix in the tomato paste and simmer for 15 minutes.
Chop the stale bread into 2 cm (about 1 in) cubes. Melt half the butter in a frying pan over medium heat. Brush the bread with the melted butter, then roast in the oven for 5 minutes, or until golden.
Add the bread to the minced meat and mix it through. If you want to thicken it with rice, stir that into the mixture now. Simmer for 5 minutes.
Pour the papara into a serving bowl.
Crush the garlic into a smooth paste using a mortar and pestle (or in a bowl with a wooden spoon) and fold it into the yoğurt. Pour the garlic yoğurt over the dish.
Melt the remaining butter in a small frying pan, add the chilli flakes and paprika, and sizzle for 2 minutes. Pour the butter mixture onto the yoğurt. Top with dried mint and serve.
Every village has a day of the week devoted to a fresh food market where local farmers’ wives off er their produce.
The local market also sells many brands of olive oil.
KARNIYARIK
‘SPLIT BELLY’ (BAKED EGGPLANT STUFFED WITH BEEF)
As a chef, I often get asked: ‘What would be your last meal?’ I always reply: ‘My grandmother’s karnıyarık’. She put something in there that I have never been able to replicate.
The name ‘split belly’ is not a reference to what this dish will do to you, but to what you need to do to the eggplant. This dish first appeared in the nineteenth century on palace menus, but now it’s a lokanta favourite.
There’s a mistaken belief that the next recipe, İmam bayıldı (‘The priest fainted’), is just a vegetarian version of this one. The recipes both include eggplant and they look alike, but the other ingredients and the cooking methods are different. And the priest fainted years before the belly got split.
SERVES 4
4 long eggplants (aubergines)
135 ml (4½ fl oz) vegetable oil, plus extra for greasing
1 onion
1 garlic clove
250 g (9 oz) minced (ground) beef
1 tomato
2 tablespoons tomato paste
½ tablespoon sugar
4 cherry tomatoes, halved
4 long sweet chillies (or 1 green bullhorn pepper)
½ tablespoon capsicum (pepper) paste
½ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
½ teaspoon salt
10 flat-leaf (Italian) parsley leaves
rice pilav or boiled rice, and plain yoğurt, to serve
Slice three strips off the skin of each eggplant, starting about 2 cm (¾ in) below the top and finishing 2 cm (¾ in) above the base. The eggplants should now look like they’re wearing striped pyjamas.
Heat 125 ml (4 fl oz/½ cup) of the vegetable oil in a frying pan over high heat. Add a drop of water to the oil. If it sizzles, the oil is ready. Carefully add the eggplants and cook for 2 minutes on each side, or until the exposed flesh is golden. Place the eggplant on paper towel to absorb the excess oil.
Preheat the oven to 180°C (350°F/Gas 4).
Finely dice the onion and slice the garlic. Heat the remaining ½ tablespoon of vegetable oil in a saucepan over medium heat. Add the onion and cook for 5 minutes or until translucent. Add the garlic and cook for 2 minutes more. Add the beef and cook for 3 minutes, stirring regularly.
Cut the tomato in half and grate it over the mixture, discarding the skin. Dilute 1 tablespoon of tomato paste in 1 tablespoon of water and stir it into the beef. Cook for 3 minutes more, stirring regularly.
Slit each eggplant lengthways, starting 2 cm (¾ in) from the tip and finishing 2 cm (¾ in) from the base. With the slit facing upwards, use the back of a tablespoon to push the slit open and give the eggplant a canoe shape. Brush a baking tray with oil. Put the eggplant boats into the greased tray. Add a pinch of sugar to each eggplant and fill each boat with the beef mixture. Cut the chillies in half (or cut the bullhorn pepper in quarters) and remove the stalks and seeds. Place 1 sweet chilli (or a slice of bullhorn pepper) and 1 halved cherry tomato on top of the beef stuffing in each eggplant.
Dilute the remaining 1 tablespoon of tomato paste and the capsicum paste in 250 ml (9 fl oz/1 cup) of boiling water. Spoon the liquid over the eggplants to prevent them drying out while baking. Put the karnıyarık in the oven and bake for 20 minutes, until the pepper starts to brown.
Serve one boat per person, hot, with rice pilav or boiled rice, and yoğurt on the side.
İMAM BAYILDI
‘THE PRIEST FAINTED’ (BRAISED EGGPLANT STUFFED WITH PEPPERS AND TOMATOES)
Why did this dish (first discussed in an 1844 cookbook) make the priest faint? Some say it was with pleasure, some say because of the extravagant amount of oil in it and some say because it used up every ingredient in his pantry. The story I like comes from Moveable Feasts: The History, Science and Lore of Food, where Gregory McNamee says the imam married the daughter of an olive oil seller. Every day after the wedding she made him an eggplant dish cooked in her father’s olive oil. On the thirteenth day the oil ran out and her husband collapsed in shock.
Most Turkish cooks would start this dish by frying the eggplant, but the famous Istanbul chef Şemsa Denizsel of Kantin showed me what she says is the original method—steaming the eggplants in a pot with the stuffing mixture before filling them. This makes them a lot lighter, and more delicious. With this recipe, the imam might have lasted a few more days.
SERVES 4
4 tomatoes
25 flat-leaf (Italian) parsley leaves
4 onions
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon sugar
4 long eggplants (aubergines)
150 ml (5 fl oz) olive oil, plus extra for greasing
16 garlic cloves, whole and peeled
1 red bullhorn pepper (or ½ large red capsicum/pepper)
Score a shallow cross in the base of the tomatoes, then transfer to a heatproof bowl and cover with boiling water. Leave for 30 seconds, then plunge in cold water and peel the skin away from the cross. Cut the tomatoes in half and scoop out the seeds with a teaspoon. Roughly chop.
Finely chop the parsley leaves. Put the onions, tomato, parsley, salt and sugar in a large saucepan and knead the mixture for 2 minutes.
Slice three strips off the skin of each eggplant, starting about 2 cm (about 1 in) below the top and finishing 2cm (about 1 inch) above the base. The eggplants should now look like they’re wearing striped pyjamas. Put them on top of the mixture. Pour in the olive oil and simmer over low heat for 30 minutes, with the lid on. Add the garlic cloves and simmer for another 20 minutes.
Remove the eggplants from the pan and slit lengthways, starting 2 cm (¾ in) from the tip and finishing 2 cm (¾ in) from the base. With the slit facing upwards, use the back of a tablespoon to push the slit open and give the eggplant a canoe shape. Brush a baking tray with oil. Put the eggplant boats into the greased tray. Remove the garlic cloves from the tray and set aside. Spoon the onion mixture from the pan into each eggplant.
Remove the stalk and seeds from the pepper and cut into four slices, length ways. Place one slice of pepper and four garlic cloves on top of each canoe. Spoon the remaining sauce over the top, then set aside until you’re ready to serve.
Serve the İmam bayıldı at room temperature, or do what I do in my restaurant and reheat them in a 180°C (350°F/Gas 4) oven for 10 minutes.
PASTIRMALI KURU FASULYE
BAKED WHITE BEANS WITH SPICE-CURED BEEF
The beans in this recipe are native to South America and didn’t reach Anatolia until the eighteenth century. But they quickly became a staple food.
Stewed white beans in tomato sauce is the cheapest and most popular snack in lokantas throughout Turkey and generally served with rice and pickles.
Back in 1960, a political columnist named Çetin Altan kept having his columns banned or heavily censored by the government. In exasperation, he finally began a column with the words ‘Let’s talk about the benefits of white beans’. That phrase has become a kind of code to signal when a journalist is being censored.
Don’t try to rush this preparation. If you don’t soak the beans overnight and change the water several times, be prepared for digestive difficulties.
SERVES 6
500 g (1 lb 2 oz) dried cannellini beans
1 tablespoon dried oregano
1 teaspoon cumin
2 onions
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
1 tablespoon tomato paste
1 tablespoon capsicum (pepper) paste
2 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1 tomato
3 green chillies
2 tablespoons butter
150 g (5½ oz) thinly sliced pastırma
Wash the beans, transfer to a large saucepan and cover with water. Bring to the boil. Change the water and then leave to soak overnight.
Strain and rinse the beans thoroughly. Put the beans back in the pan and cover with water (to about 5 cm/2 in above the beans). Stir in the dried oregano and cumin. Bring to the boil, then reduce to a simmer and cook for 20 minutes, or until the water evaporates from the top and the beans are soft but not mushy.
Meanwhile, place a clay pot or casserole dish in the oven and preheat to 180°C (350°F/Gas 4).
Roughly chop the onions. Heat the vegetable oil in a deep frying pan over medium heat. Add the onion and cook for 5 minutes, or until translucent. Stir in the tomato paste, capsicum paste, salt and pepper. Strain the beans and add them to the pan. Cook for 15 minutes.
Slice the tomato into rounds. Remove the stalks from the chillies and slit down one side to remove the seeds. Chop the chillies into pieces about 1 cm (½ in) wide.
Carefully take the pot out of the oven. Add the butter and pour in the bean mixture. Spread the slices of pastırma over the top, then layer with the tomato and chilli. Put the pot back in the oven and cook, covered, for 10 minutes.
Serve the pastırmali kuru fasulye in the pot for people to help themselves.
Hatice Kalan and friends tell stories and prepare tiny yuvalama at Yörem restaurant, Gaziantep.
YUVALAMA
‘STORYTELLER SOUP’ (LAMB AND BEEFBALL SOUP)
Because this dish takes a long time, it was traditional in the town of Gaziantep to hire a professional storyteller to keep the cooks entertained while they rolled hundreds of tiny balls of meat and rice. Yuvalama is consumed in vast quantities during the three-day eating festival called Bayram that follows Ramadan.
The word yuvalama means ‘rolled’, and it is said that it takes one person four hours to roll 1 kilo of meatballs. Few restaurants serve yuvalama these days, because their kitchen staff just don’t have the time, but it remains a signature dish at the Gaziantep restaurant Yörem. Hatice Kalan, a rare female restaurateur in this male-dominated town, sits rolling and storytelling through the afternoon with a bunch of friends and employees. The meatballs they make go into her soup (decorated with a yin and yang of mint oil and paprika oil) and also get sold as takeaway to locals who add them to their own soups at home—grateful not to do all that rolling themselves (but missing out on the stories).
SERVES 4
95 g (3¼ oz/½ cup) dried chickpeas
440 g (15½ oz/2 cups) medium-grain rice
1 tablespoon salt
750 g (1 lb 10 oz) plain yoğurt
250 g lean minced (ground) beef
1 teaspoon white pepper
165 g (5¾ oz/1 cup) rice flour
2 onions
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
400 g (14 oz) lamb (preferably lamb leg), trimmed and cubed
1 egg
2 tablespoons butter
1 tablespoon dried mint
½ tablespoon chilli flakes
Cover the chickpeas with water and soak overnight. Cover the rice with water, add half the salt, and also soak overnight.
Place the yoğurt on a sheet of muslin (cheesecloth) and tie up the corners. Hang the muslin over a pot for 3 hours to allow the yoğurt to thicken.
Strain and rinse the chickpeas, place in a saucepan with 500 ml (17 fl oz/2 cups) of water and simmer, covered, for 1 hour.
Strain and rinse the rice, then blend in a food processor or blender. Transfer the rice to a mixing bowl and add the beef and white pepper. Knead the mixture with wet hands for at least 5 minutes, or until it becomes a thick paste-almost like a dough.
Spread the rice flour onto a baking tray. Shape the dough into chickpea-size balls, regularly dipping your hands into the rice flour on the tray to keep them dry. You can roll the balls between your palms three or four at a time. Even so, this will take a long time, so enlist other family members to help, or have a storyteller ready. When all the mixture has been made into balls, space them out on the rice flour so they don’t stick together.
Roughly chop the onions. Heat the vegetable oil in a saucepan over medium heat. Add the onion and cook for 2 minutes. Add the cubed pieces of meat and brown for 5 minutes, stirring regularly. Add 1 litre (35 fl oz/4 cups) of water, bring to the boil and simmer, covered, for 20 minutes.
Toss the rice balls lightly in the flour and add them to the lamb. Simmer, covered, for another 15 minutes.
Whisk the yoğurt and egg in a bowl, then whisk in 250 ml (9 fl oz/1 cup) of the lamb cooking liquid. Slowly pour the yoğurt mixture into the pan, whisking constantly. Add the chickpeas. Bring the liquid back to the boil and simmer, covered, for 5 minutes.
Melt the butter in a frying pan over medium heat. And the mint and chilli flakes and stir for 2 minutes.
Ladle the soup into four bowls, drizzle the mint and chilli butter over the top and serve.
LAHMACUN
THIN-CRUST PIDE WITH SPICY LAMB TOPPING
When I say thin-crust pizza is Italy’s answer to lahmacun (pronounced ‘lah-mahjun’), I’m not trying to start a fight. The idea of putting spiced mince on a disc of dough would have occurred to human beings long before there were nations called Italy or Turkey—or for that matter Armenia, Greece or Syria—all of whom have claimed to be the originators of this addictive pastry. What we do know is that nowadays lahmacun is a speciality of the town of Şanhurfa, in southeastern Turkey where they pride themselves on the crispness of their bases.
Lahmacun should not be confused with the heavier kıymalı pide, well known in and out of Turkey for the thickness of its dough and the coarseness of its meat topping. For lahmacun you need a light touch.
In Şanliurfa, they turn out hundreds of lahmacuns every lunchtime from big stone ovens. The best way to get the same effect at home is to use a pizza stone or an unglazed terracotta tile, and to ensure your oven is preheated to the max.
SERVES 4
BASE
200 g (7 oz/11/3 cups) plain (all-purpose) flour, plus extra for dusting
1 teaspoon salt
70 g (2½ oz/½ cup) wholemeal flour (if using a baking tray)
TOPPING
2 tomatoes
1 red capsicum (pepper)
75 g (22/3 oz) capsicum (pepper) paste
5 garlic cloves
½ bunch flat-leaf (Italian) parsley
2 teaspoons chilli flakes
1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1 teaspoon salt
200 g (7 oz) minced (ground) lamb (about 25 per cent fat)
RED ONION AND SUMAC SALAD (OPTIONAL)
½ red onion, finely sliced
1 teaspoon salt
1 tablespoon sumac
1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil
juice of ½ lemon, plus extra to serve
Preheat the oven to its maximum temperature (as close to 300°C/570°F as possible). If you have a pizza stone or tile, place it in the oven. Or leave your baking tray in the oven so it will preheat.
Sift the flour into a mixing bowl and add the salt. Make a well in the middle and slowly pour in 125 ml (4 fl oz/½ cup) of lukewarm water. Knead the dough for 5 minutes. Sprinkle some flour on your work surface and then divide the dough into four balls. Cover the bowl with a damp cloth and leave to rest.
Score a shallow cross in the base of the tomatoes, then transfer to a heatproof bowl and cover with boiling water. Leave for 30 seconds, then plunge in cold water and peel the skin away from the cross. Cut the tomato in half and scoop out the stalks and seeds with a teaspoon. Roughly chop. Remove the seeds from the capsicum and roughly chop. Coarsely blend the tomatoes and capsicum with the capsicum paste, garlic, parsley, chill flakes, pepper and salt. Combine the mixture with the lamb mince and stir thoroughly.
Place a ball of dough on the floured work surface and, with floured hands or a rolling pin, flatten into a round about 25 cm (10 in) wide and less than 5 mm (¼ in) thick. Repeat with the remaining dough balls.
Using a tablespoon, thinly spread the lamb mixture onto the rounds. Then press in with your hands.
If you are using a baking tray, take it out of the oven and put a piece of baking paper over it. Dust the baking paper with a little wholemeal flour. Place the rounds of dough on the baking paper and bake for about 5 minutes, or until the edges are crisp.
Meanwhile, if you are making the salad, finely slice the onion and place in a bowl. Sprinkle with salt and sumac, add the lemon juice and olive oil, then mix together with your hands.
Sprinkle the salad over the lahmacuns, squeeze on some lemon juice, and serve.
A butcher shop in Gaziantep preparing lamb to mince with peppers for the topping of lahmacun.
SAMSUN PİDE
PIDE WITH FOUR CHEESES
Samsun is a city on the Black Sea famous for its pide (a thick form of flatbread that’s not the same as pita or pizza). The defining qualities of a Samsun pide are: the dough contains the highest quality butter, flour and eggs; it is rolled out by hand, not with a rolling pin; it is pulled into a boat shape that can hold a stuffing; and it is baked in a wood-fire oven. In this case, the passengers on the boat are cheeses, tomatoes and a fried egg, but don’t get hung up on finding four different cheeses—three or even two will do, as long as they contrast in texture and flavour. And by the way, we do not agree with the claim by some bold Turks that our pide gave birth to Italy’s pizza.
SERVES 4
DOUGH
1 tablespoon dry yeast
1 teaspoon sugar
300 g (10½ oz/2 cups) plain (all-purpose) flour, plus extra for dusting
150 g (5½ oz/1 cup) strong flour
50 ml (12/3 fl oz) milk
1 teaspoon salt
FOUR-CHEESE FILLING
4 tablespoons each four different cheeses—such as feta, kaşar (or provolone or mozzarella or any semi-hard yellow cheese), tulum (or aged ricotta or any sharp crumbly white cheese) and gorgonzola (or any piquant mouldy cheese)
1 egg
2 teaspoons chopped oregano
TOPPING
2 large tomatoes
2 green bullhorn peppers (or 1 large green capsicum/pepper)
4 eggs
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
spoon salad to serve
Dissolve the yeast in 50 ml (12/3fl oz) of lukewarm water. Stir in the sugar and set aside for 5 minutes. It should start to form bubbles.
Sift the flours into a mixing bowl, make a well in the middle and pour in the yeast mixture and the milk. Knead the dough for10 minutes, or until it reaches earlobe softness. Cover the bowl with a damp cloth and rest for 30 minutes to let the dough rise.
Add the salt to the dough and knead for 3 minutes. Place the dough on a floured work surface and form it into a cylinder. Then cut it into four equal pieces. Rest for another 10 minutes.
Meanwhile, preheat the oven to 200°C (400°F/ Gas 6). If you have a pizza stone or tile, place it in the oven. Or leave your baking tray in the oven so it will preheat.
Crumble the four cheeses together in a mixing bowl. Break the egg into the bowl and fold it through the cheeses. Pick the oregano leaves off the stalk and finely chop, then stir the oregano through the cheese mixture.
Place the dough on the floured work surface and, with floured hands or a rolling pin, flatten it into an oval about 30 x 20 cm (12 x 8 in) wide and 5 mm (¼ in) thick. Repeat with the remaining dough.
Spoon a thick strip of cheese filling into the middle of each oval, leaving a 5 cm (2 in) gap around the edge. Fold over the two longer edges so they touch the filling but don’t cover it. Join the folded edges at the top and bottom to make a boat shape. Press each end into a point and twist to close tightly.
Finely slice the tomatoes. Halve the pepper, remove the stalk and seeds, and finely slice. Put six slices of tomato and four slices of pepper on each pide, and break an egg into the middle.
If you are using a baking tray, take it out of the oven and put a piece of baking paper over it. Dust the baking paper with a little flour. If you are using a pizza stone or tile, sprinkle a little flour on it. Place the pides on the baking paper (or stone or tile) and brush the tops with oil. Bake for 15 minutes or until golden brown.
Serve warm with a spoon salad.
ÇIĞ BÖREK
HALF MOON PASTRY WITH BEEF AND CHILLI
My ancestors are Tartars who moved to central Anatolia from an area that is now close to Russia on the Black Sea. This is one of their dishes. Using raw beef (the meaning of the word çiğ in the Turkish name), you must knead it tenderly before stuffing inside yoğurt pastry in a half moon shape. It is vital to seal the pastry tightly so the meat steams inside without making contact with the frying oil.
SERVES 4
2 tablespoons plain yoğurt
100 ml (3½ fl oz) vegetable oil
2 teaspoons salt
juice of ½ lemon
1 egg
750 g (1 lb 10 oz/5 cups) plain (all-purpose) flour, plus extra for dusting
STUFFING
1 brown onion
250 g (9 oz) minced (ground) beef
1 tablespoon chilli flakes
1 tablespoon freshly ground black pepper
½ tablespoon salt
5 ice cubes
500 ml (17 fl oz/2 cups) vegetable oil
ayran or basil lemonade, to serve
Mix the yoğurt vegetable oil, salt and lemon juice in a bowl. Break the egg into the mixture and whisk. Sift the flour into the mixture, add 250 ml (9 fl oz/1 cup) of water and knead for 10 minutes into a soft dough. Cover the bowl with a damp cloth and rest for 30 minutes.
Sprinkle a little flour on your work surface and divide the dough into ten pieces, then roll into balls. Return the dough to the bowl, cover again with a damp cloth and rest for 15 minutes.
Finely chop the onion. Combine it with the minced beef, chilli flakes, pepper and salt.
Wrap the ice in a tea towel (dish towel) and crush into small pieces. Add the crushed ice to the meat mixture and knead until it dissolves. The meat mix should be very moist, but not runny. If it seems watery, pour off the excess water.
Place a ball of dough on the floured work surface and, with floured hands or a rolling pin, flatten into a round 25 cm (10 in) wide and about 2 mm (about 1/16 in) thick. Imagine each round is two half moons joined together. Put 2 tablespoons of the meat mix in the middle of the right half moon, leaving a 5 cm (2 in) gap around it. Fold the other half of the dough over. Dip your fingers in water and press down all around the edges to tightly seal the package. Fold 1 cm (½ in) of the outer edge over to ‘double lock’ it. This ensures the filling will stay moist when cooked. Repeat with the remaining dough and stuffing.
Heat the vegetable oil in a deep frying pan over high heat. Add a drop of water to the oil. If it sizzles the oil is ready. Add the böreks, two at a time, and cook for 2 minutes until they start to puff up. Turn over and cook for 1 minute more, or until the böreks have golden-brown spots. Scoop the böreks out of the oil and rest on paper towel. Repeat with the remaining pastries.
Serve two böreks per person, with a glass of ayran or basil lemonade.
TALAŞ BÖREĞİ
FLAKY PASTRY WITH LAMB AND PEAS
The puff pastry in this dish is what the French would call a mille-feuille (thousand leaves)—which suggests the dish appeared in Turkey with European influences during the past 300 years. In the absence of an origin story, I’ll tell a personal one. When I was at high school I used to jump the fence to eat lunch in the neighbouring high school because its cook made fabulous flaky börek. When I graduated, I pretended to be an old boy of the other high school so I could attend their reunions and eat the flaky börek, which became famous throughout Istanbul and caused other high schools to start serving the dish at their own reunions. As with most French-influenced dishes, the use of too much butter is essential, along with infinite patience.
SERVES 4
600 g (1 lb 5 oz/4 cups) strong flour
1 teaspoon salt
juice of ½ lemon
210 ml (7½ fl oz) soda water
155 g (52/3 oz/1 cup) fresh shelled peas
1 small sweet potato
1 baby carrot
1 brown onion
500 g (1 lb 2 oz) lamb backstrap or trimmed lamb leg
2 tablespoons plain (all-purpose) flour, plus extra for dusting
2 tablespoons vegetable oil, plus extra for greasing
½ bunch flat-leaf (Italian) parsley
½ teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
250 g (9 oz) butter
2 eggs
wild thyme salad and ayran, to serve (optional)
To make the dough, sift the strong flour into a mixing bowl. Make a well in the middle and add the salt and lemon juice. Slowly add the soda water and 80 ml (2½ fl oz/1/3 cup) of water. Knead for 5 minutes into a hard dough. Cover the bowl with a damp cloth and rest for 30 minutes.
Put the peas in a heatproof bowl and cover with boiling water. Leave for 1 minute, then plunge them into iced water for 30 seconds. Strain and set aside.
Peel and chop the sweet potato into 1 cm (½ in) cubes. Peel and chop the carrot into 1 cm (½ in) rounds. Finely slice the onion. Chop the meat into 2 cm (¾ in) cubes. Toss in the plain flour, then shake off the excess.
Heat the vegetable oil in a frying pan over medium heat. Add a drop of water to the oil. If it sizzles, the oil is ready. Add the chopped lamb and brown for 2 minutes. Add the onion, carrot and sweet potato and sauté for 3 minutes. Reduce the heat and simmer for 5 minutes. Finely chop the parsley. Add the peas, parsley, salt and pepper to the pan and simmer for 5 more minutes. Remove from the heat.
Preheat the oven to 180°C (350°F/Gas 4).
Melt the butter in a small frying pan (or microwave for 30 seconds). Sprinkle some flour on your work surface. Divide the dough into four pieces and, using a thin rolling pin, roll out each piece as thinly as possible. Brush the butter onto the dough and fold each piece twice (to make four layers). Rest for 5 minutes. Roll each dough piece out, butter and fold again. Repeat the fold and butter process twice more. Finally, roll each piece of dough into a square, roughly 20 cm (8 in) wide and 5 mm (¼ in) thick, using your fingers to create the shape.
Separate the eggs and keep the whites and the yolks handy in two bowls. Spoon 3 tablespoons of the meat mixture into the middle of each square, leaving a margin about 6 cm (2½ in) wide on each side. Fold each corner in like an envelope, slightly overlapping them and brush the edges with egg white to help them stick together.
Line a baking tray with baking paper and brush with oil. Arrange the böreks on the tray, folded side down, and brush the tops with egg yolk. Bake for 30 minutes, or until golden.
Serve the talaş böreği warm, with wild thyme salad and ayran.
SU BÖREĞI
WATER PASTRY WITH FETA AND KALE
Although the börek translated as ‘water pastry’ is usually credited to the central Anatolian cities of Ankara and Çorum, ancient cookbooks reveal the Romans were layering lasagne, under the name laganum, in the first century—which was when they moved into Byzantion in northwest Anatolia. So we should probably credit the Romans with starting the fad for layering dough with cheese and greens between. Getting it right is a laborious process, because you must boil and butter each of the eleven layers, then fry or bake the whole thing. But the result is worth the effort, as our Italian culinary cousins would agree.
Normally in my restaurant I cook water börek in the oven in a rectangular tray, and slice it into squares (as shown in the picture opposite). For this recipe though, I’m suggesting you use a round, deep frying pan, and slice the börek into wedges, which makes it look less like lasagne but is easier to work with.
SERVES 4
8 kale leaves
1 bunch flat-leaf (Italian) parsley
3 garlic shoots (or 1 garlic clove)
1 heaped tablespoon plain yoğurt
250 g (9 oz) hard feta
4 eggs
2 teaspoons salt
500 g (1 lb 2 oz) strong flour
2 tablespoons olive oil
300 g (10½ oz) butter
ayran, to serve
Put the kale in a heatproof bowl and cover with boiling water. Leave for 30 seconds, then plunge in cold water. Remove the white stalks and finely chop the leaves.
Discard the parsley stalks and finely chop the leaves. Finely chop the garlic shoots (or crush the garlic) and mix in a bowl with the yoğurt. Crumble the feta into the mixture.
Whisk the eggs in a deep mixing bowl. Add 1 tablespoon of water and the salt. Sift the flour into the bowl and mix well. Knead for 10 minutes, or until the mixture becomes a hard dough. Dust your work surface with flour and divide the dough into eleven balls. Dust the dough with flour and rest in a bowl, covered with a damp cloth, for 15 minutes.
Flour a board and, using a thin rolling pin, roll each ball into a 30 cm (12 in) wide round. (Turning the dough on the work surface 90 degrees at a time will ensure a circular pastry.) You can stack the eleven sheets while you do the next step, but be sure to scatter plenty of flour between the sheets so they don’t stick together.
Pour the olive oil into a large non-stick frying pan and brush to coat. (The pan should be at least 25 cm/10 in across and 10 cm /4 in deep.) Warm the butter in a small saucepan.
Fill a deep saucepan with water and bring to the boil. Using a thin rolling pin or the handle of a long wooden spoon, lift one round of dough at a time and dunk it into the pan for 2 minutes. Lift out and pat dry on a clean cloth. Repeat with the remaining rounds of dough.
Place a round of dough in the large oiled non-stick frying pan and brush with butter. Slice around it to remove any overlap, and scatter the sliced-off bits on top of it. Place another dough round loosely on top, and brush with butter. Continue to stack to make six layers. Spread the kale and cheese mixture on the sixth layer, then continue to stack another four buttered layers. Cut the final (eleventh) layer to fit as a round over the top (discarding any leftover pastry). Pour the remaining butter on top.
Place the pan over medium heat and cook for 10 minutes, constantly tilting the pan to prevent the bottom layer sticking. Place a large plate over the frying pan and, with one hand on the plate and the other hand on the handle, upend the pastry onto the plate.
Brush the inside of the pan again with olive oil and slide the upturned börek into the pan—with the cooked layer now on top. Cook for 8 minutes.
Cut across the börek to make four quarters (with one wedge per person). Serve in the pan with glasses of ayran to accompany the meal.
CEVİZLİ ERİŞTE
EGG PASTA WITH WALNUT AND BOTTARGA
Here’s another dish where we acknowledge an Italian connection. Italians are known in Turkey as makarnacı, which literally translates as ‘macaroni maker’ or ‘pasta maker’, because the suffix -ci means ‘maker of or ‘doer of’. On the same principle, an Argentinian is a tangocu (a maker of the tango) and Brazilians are sambaci.
What the Turks call erişte is the kind of flat ribbon pasta the macaroni makers call tagliatelle or fettuccine. But we can trace the Turkish version as far back as the fifteenth century, when a central Anatolian doctor called Şirvani wrote that erişte should be made from flour kneaded with egg whites, cut into thin strips and dried in the sun. In the sixteenth century the palace chefs were boiling it in soup.
The Turks like to eat their pasta bland, usually just tossing it with butter. I decided to boost the flavour with dried mullet roe—what the Italians call bottarga and what the Turks call mumlu havyar (a word which sounds like caviar for a very good reason). The best havyar comes from the beautiful Dalyan region, at the point where the Mediterranean coast meets the Aegean coast. There they eat their bottarga with bread, and take their erişte straight.
SERVES 4
EGG PASTA
3 eggs
150 ml (5 fl oz) milk
500 g (1 lb 2 oz) plain (all-purpose) flour (preferably durum wheat), plus extra for dusting
1 teaspoon salt, plus extra for cooking the erişte
WALNUT SAUCE
1 tablespoon butter
100 g (3½ oz) walnuts
1 teaspoon turmeric
45 ml (1½ fl oz) thickened (whipping) cream
100 g (3½ oz) sharp white cheese (such as barrel-aged feta)
1 tablespoon chopped tarragon
1 tablespoon finely grated bottarga (or 2 tablespoons fresh mullet roe)
Whisk the eggs and milk together with a fork. Sift the flour into a mixing bowl, make a well in the middle and add the salt. Pour in the egg mixture and knead for 10 minutes until it’s stretchy. Cover the bowl with a damp cloth and rest for 30 minutes.
Knead the dough for 5 minutes, making sure there are no bubbles. Dust your work surface with flour and divide the dough into three balls. With floured hands or a rolling pin, flatten into a round 30 cm (12 in) wide and less than 5 mm (¼ in) thick. Repeat with the remaining dough. Rest in a warm spot (preferably in direct sunlight) for 30 minutes. (You could drape them over your clothesline, or over a rolling pin between two chairs).
Place the rounds on the floured work surface and cut into strips about 5 mm (¼ in) wide and 5 cm (2 in) long. Don’t worry if the shapes are irregular. If you have a pasta machine, you can follow the same process and make the strips as if they were fettuccine.
Bring a large saucepan of salted water to the boil. Add the erişte and boil for 2 minutes. Melt the butter in a large frying pan over low heat, then add the walnuts, turmeric and cream. Toss the pasta in the sauce for 1 minute over low heat. Transfer to a bowl and grate the cheese over the top. Sprinkle on the chopped tarragon. Finely grate the bottarga over the top and serve.
KAYSERİ MANTI
TWICE-COOKED MINI BEEF DUMPLINGS
If I had to nominate three dishes that I am confident originated with the ethnic group called the Turks (who arrived in Anatolia from Central Asia in the eleventh century), I would say yoğurt pastırma and the wrapped dumplings we call mantı (pronounced ‘mant-uh’). Mantı are often labelled ‘the Turkish ravioli’, but given their Asian origin, it would be more appropriate to call them ‘the Turkish wonton’.
Versions are served all around Turkey and in several countries to the northeast, but the most famous are the ridiculously small ones from Kayseri in central Anatolia. Apparently they were designed as a torture test by mothers-in-law, because ‘a good bride should be able to make Mantı so small you can fit 40 of them on one spoon’. So I’m not being cruel here by asking you to cut the dough into 3 cm (1¼ in) squares—the usual size in Kayseri is around 1 cm (½ in) square.
SERVES 4
EGG PASTA
375 g (13 oz/2½ cups) plain (all-purpose) flour, plus extra for dusting
½ teaspoon salt
2 eggs
BEEF MINCE STUFFING
2 onions
250 g (9 oz) lean minced (ground) beef
½ teaspoon nutmeg
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
COOKING WATER
1 tablespoon butter
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 tomato
1 tablespoon tomato paste
1 tablespoon salt
YOĞURT SAUCE
2 garlic cloves
500 g (1 lb 2 oz/2 cups) plain yoğurt
PAPRIKA BUTTER
4 tablespoons butter
2 tablespoons smoked paprika
1 tablespoon chilli flakes
1 tablespoon dried mint
1 tablespoon sumac
Sift the flour into a mixing bowl, make a well in the middle and add the salt. Break in the eggs. Add 3 tablespoons of water and knead for 10 minutes until the dough is stretchy. Cover the bowl with a damp cloth and rest for 30 minutes.
Meanwhile, to make the stuffing, grate the onions in a bowl, add the remaining ingredients and Knead for 3 minutes to combine.
Dust your work surface with flour and divide the dough in half. Using a thin rolling pin, roll out each piece as thinly as you can, using plenty of flour to prevent sticking. Using a sharp knife or a rolling wheel, cut each dough sheet into 3 cm (1¼ in) squares.
Have a bowl of water handy for dipping your fingers. Using the tip of a teaspoon, place a lump of the filling, about the size of a chickpea, into the middle of one square. Wetting your fingers, pull the four corners of each square together above the filling and press the points together. Repeat with the remaining dough sheets. You should end up with about 200 small dumplings (50 per person). Warning: this will take a long time ...
Preheat the oven to 180°C (350°F/Gas 4).
Sprinkle some flour on a wide baking tray. Place the Mantı on the tray as you finish them, making sure they don’t stick to each other. Put the tray in the oven for 10 minutes to dry the Mantı but not completely cook them.
To cook the Mantı, heat the butter and olive oil in a saucepan over medium heat. Halve the tomato and grate it into the oil, discarding the skin. Add the tomato paste and stir for 2 minutes. Add 1 litres (35 fl oz/4 cups) of water and the salt, and bring to the boil. Reduce the heat to medium, add the Mantı and boil for 8 minutes.
While the Mantı are cooking, crush the garlic and mix with the yoğurt.
To make the paprika butter, melt the butter in a small frying pan. Stir in the smoked paprika and the chilli flakes and sizzle for 2 minutes.
Use a serving spoon to scoop the Mantı into four bowls. Discard the cooking water. Pour 3 tablespoons of garlic yoğurtinto each bowl, drizzle with paprika butter, top with a pinch of dried mint and sumac, and serve.
MARRIED AND FEASTED IN ANATOLIA
The next three dishes are served at wedding feasts in rural Turkey. Here’s what happens first ...
Boy meets girl. Boy tells his mother this girl might be the one for him. Mother makes inquiries in the village to check out girl’s suitability, then contacts her mother, saying: ‘We would like to visit you for a good reason.’ Girl’s mother has a pretty good idea what this means, and replies: ‘Would you like to come over for afternoon tea?’
Girl’s mother asks the girl if she’s interested in the boy, and if she gets the reply ‘It’s up to you’, she tells the father there may be an offer to consider. (If the girl is not interested, the afternoon tea would still go ahead, but it would not end happily.)
On the appointed day, boy’s family brings Turkish delight and baklava, beautifully packaged. Girl’s family serves tea and other pastries, on the principle ‘Tatlı ye, tatlı konuş’ (‘Eat sweet, talk sweet’).
Girl is not present during the family chat, but if the conversation goes well, her mother will ask her to make coffee for everybody. She might then put salt instead of sugar into the cup intended for her suitor, in order to test his manners. If he compliments her on the coffee, he will be a patient husband.
Assuming everybody is getting on well, boy and girl will now be allowed to go out together, accompanied by a chaperone, of course. This will progress to a small ring, which means they are ‘promised’, followed by a bigger ring, which means they are engaged. Girl’s family will pay for the engagement party.
On the day before the wedding, girl will have her hands coloured with henna, and on the morning of the wedding, boy will be shaved by the town barber. Everyone in the village—and anybody who happens to be passing through town—will be invited to the festivities.
After the imam has conducted the formalities, the bride will then ride into the town square on horseback, carrying the possessions she will bring to the marriage and accompanied by drummers, clarinet players and car horns. And so the feasting begins.
This was where we came in. Photographer Bree Hutchins and I were chatting to a farmer selling peppers and eggplants in the markets at Bodrum, on Turkey’s west coast. The young farmer took a liking to us (to be honest, more to Bree) and asked if we’d like to come to his cousin’s wedding feast. We said of course.
We arrived on the third day of a five-day festival. The food was cooking in huge pots all around the square. They’d slaughtered cattle and sheep specially for the occasion, which they were roasting over open fires. The three dishes you are about to read about were a tiny part of the banquet.
The bride and her brother at a Yörük wedding in the Aegean village of Milas.
DÜĞÜN CORBASI
WEDDING SOUP WITH CHICKEN AND YOĞURT
This is a yoğurt soup with chicken or lamb meat, usually cooked over an open fire and served early in a wedding feast for up to 1000 invited guests from surrounding villages. A wedding feast can continue for five days, with cooking duties alternating between the bride’s family and the groom’s family. This dish takes 24 hours to prepare, so better hope the bride doesn’t change her mind.
SERVES 8
50 g (1¾ oz/¼ cup) dried chickpeas
500 g (1 lb 2 oz/2 cups) plain yoğurt
1 small chicken
220 g (7¾ oz/1 cup) medium-grain rice
1 teaspoon salt
1 egg
2 tablespoons plain (all-purpose) flour
2 tablespoons butter
2 teaspoons dried mint
2 teaspoons paprika
Cover the chickpeas with water and soak overnight.
Strain and rinse the chickpeas. Place the yoğurt on a sheet of muslin (cheesecloth) and tie up the corners. Hang the muslin over a pot for 3 hours to allow the yoğurt to thicken.
Put the chicken and chickpeas in a large saucepan, cover with water and boil, with the lid on, for 30 minutes. Take out the chicken and remove the skin. Strip off the meat and shred, then set aside. Put the chicken bones and skin back in the pan and boil for a further 15 minutes, with the chickpeas, to make a stock.
Put 500 ml (17 fl oz/2 cups) of the stock in another saucepan. Rinse the rice. Add the rice and salt to the pan and bring it to the boil. Boil for 10 minutes, until not quite soft.
Whisk the egg and flour together in a bowl. Add the yoğurt and 2 tablespoons of the warm chicken stock and combine.
Take the carcass and skin out of the stock, and discard. Add the yoğurt mixture to the stock and slowly simmer for 5 minutes, stirring constantly. Slowly pour in the strained rice and continue to stir. Bring to the boil over medium heat and add the shredded chicken. Reduce the heat and simmer for another 10 minutes.
Divide the soup into four bowls. Heat 1 tablespoon of butter in a frying pan. Once it sizzles, add the mint and stir for about 30 seconds. Drizzle it over the soup in splashes. Heat the remaining butter and add the paprika. Sizzle for 30 seconds, then drizzle it over the soup in spaces not covered by the mint butter.
Serve with pide (pee-day) and pride.
EZO GELİN
‘EZO THE BRIDE’ (RED LENTIL AND BULGUR SOUP)
Ezo the Bride is a famous figure in Turkish folklore. Her real name was Zöhre Bozgeyik and she was born in 1909 in southeastern Anatolia. She married a local musician and, following the regional Berdel tradition, her brother married her husband’s sister. A few years later, her brother divorced his wife, which meant that although Ezo dearly loved her husband, she had to follow local custom and separate from him. Beautiful Ezo was forced to travel to Syria and marry a distant relative and, according to a popular song, she died there in 1956 of sorrow and homesickness. Her deathbed wish was for her remains to be buried in her home village, Dokuzyol. This soup comes from a happy time in her life.
SERVES 8
1.5 litres (52 fl oz/6 cups) beef stock
2 onions
2 tablespoons sunflower oil
2 tablespoons tomato paste
1 tablespoon capsicum (pepper) paste
1 teaspoon hot paprika
110 g (3¾ oz/½ cup) medium-grain rice
205 g (7¼ oz/1 cup red lentils
90 g (3¼ oz/½ cup) fine bulgur
2 mint sprigs
2 teaspoons salt
2 teaspoons freshly ground black pepper
PAPRIKA BUTTER
1 tablespoon butter
1 tablespoon hot paprika
1 bird’s eye chilli, finely chopped (optional)
Put the beef stock in a pot and bring to the boil. Reduce to a simmer.
Meanwhile, finely chop the onions. Heat the sunflower oil in a frying pan over medium heat. Add the onion and cook for 3 minutes until soft. Dissolve the tomato and capsicum pastes in 250 ml (9 fl oz/1 cup) of the beef stock, add the hot paprika, and then stir into the cooking onions. Pour the onion mixture into the simmering beef stock.
Rinse the rice, red lentils and bulgur, then add to the pot. Cover and cook for 20 minutes, or until the lentils are soft. Ladle the soup into four bowls.
Chop the mint. To make the paprika butter, melt the butter in a small frying pan, add the paprika (and finely chopped chillies if you want extra heat), and sizzle for 1 minute.
Top each bowl with chopped mint and drops of paprika butter, and serve.
KEŞKEK
LAMB AND BARLEY PORRIDGE
Keşkek is now served at village weddings all over Anatolia, but it originated with the Yörük people (nomadic Turks from Central Asia). For the authentic version, you’d need a brass pot as big as a bathtub, a bonfire, and 200 single men with thick pounding poles. Traditionally, a whole sheep or cow is boiled with pearl barley, then pulled out of the pot so the bones can be removed, then put back in and pounded for about an hour by the single men of the village until it becomes a paste. This recipe is a compromise.
SERVES 8
1 kg (2 lb 4 oz) pearl barley
1 lamb neck, about 1 kg (2 lb 4 oz)
1 teaspoon salt
2 onions
1 tablespoon sunflower oil
3 tablespoons butter, melted
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
TOMATO SAUCE
1 tablespoon butter
1 tablespoon tomato paste
½ teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1 teaspoon dried oregano
Cover the barley with water and soak for 8 hours.
Cut the lamb neck into four pieces and place in a large saucepan with the barley. Cover with water, bring to the boil and then cook for 1½ hours, or until the barley and meat are tender.
Scoop out the pieces of neck and remove the bones. Shred the meat. Strain the barley and combine it with the meat in a large bowl. Add the salt.
Dice the onions. Heat the sunflower oil in a frying pan over medium heat. Add the onion and sauté for 5 minutes, until translucent. Add the onion to the meat and barley, and pound the mixture with a wooden spoon until it reaches a paste-like consistency.
To make the sauce, melt the butter in a frying pan over low heat. Stir in the tomato paste, salt, pepper and oregano. When it sizzles, remove the pan from the heat.
Serve the keşkek in a big bowl in the middle of the table for people to help themselves. Pour the melted butter over the top and sprinkle on the cinnamon.
The groom’s village (above) is empty because everybody is at the feast in the bride’s village.
GAVURDAĞ
‘SPOON SALAD’ (CHOPPED TOMATO, WALNUT AND SUMAC SALAD)
This salad is served with kebaps all over Turkey, and is designed to be eaten with a spoon. It’s just a finely chopped salad, with the tomato pieces no bigger than the pomegranate seeds, but you’ll see it on menus in Istanbul described as the famous ‘Gavurdağ’ salad (apparently named after a mountain in southeast Anatolia). My friend Musa points out in his scholarly journal Yemek ve Kültür (Food and Culture) that there’s a trend in Turkey for chefs to give obscure names to standard dishes in an attempt to suggest authentic regional origins. This could well be one of those.
SERVES 4
6 ripe tomatoes
1 red onion
1 bunch mint
½ bunch flat-leaf (Italian) parsley
115 g (4 oz/1 cup) walnuts
3 green bullhorn peppers (or 1 green capsicum/pepper)
1 green chilli
1 tablespoon sumac
2 tablespoons pomegranate molasses
60 ml (2 fl oz/¼ cup) olive oil
1 teaspoon apple vinegar
1 teaspoon sea salt
150 g (5½ oz/½ cup) pomegranate seeds
Quarter the tomatoes, remove the white centres and then finely chop. Finely chop the red onion. Discard the mint and parsley stalks and finely chop the leaves. Finely chop the walnuts. Cut the bullhorn peppers and the chilli in half, and remove the seeds and stalks. Finely chop. Mix all the chopped ingredients together in a salad bowl.
Mix the sumac, molasses, olive oil, vinegar and salt together, pour onto the salad and toss.
Sprinkle the pomegranate seeds on top and serve.
ZAHTER SALATASI
WILD THYME AND BLOOD ORANGE SALAD
Wild thyme (zahter) grows near the southeastern city of Antakya (once known as Antioch, where the followers of Jesus were first called Christians). The locals use the fresh leaves to make salads and an invigorating form of tea, and use the dried leaves as a substitute for oregano in meat dishes. The region was formerly part of Syria, only added to the Turkish republic in 1938, so its food is surprising to most Turks. In addition to this salad, we can credit the Antakyans with künefe and muhammara sauce.
SERVES 4
10 thyme sprigs
5 oregano sprigs
3 spring onions (scallions)
1 green chilli (optional)
1 garlic shoot (if available)
2 blood oranges
3 teaspoons olive oil
½ teaspoon sea salt
Pick the leaves off the thyme and oregano. Discard the stalks. Wash the spring onions, then remove and discard the roots and tough outer leaves. Finely chop. Remove the seeds and stalk from the chilli (if you are using it) and finely chop. Finely chop the garlic shoot. Mix together in a salad bowl.
Peel the oranges and divide into segments, removing the white pith. Add to the salad bowl. Splash on the olive oil and salt, toss together and serve.
BALIK EKMEK
WHITING SANDWICH WITH TARATOR
This is my attempt to recreate a memory. When I was a teenager, I used to buy sandwiches from fishermen who would moor their boats next to one of the pillars of the Galata Bridge, just across the road from Istanbul’s spice market. They would fillet their catch and cook fish pieces over a little charcoal grill, then shove them inside pide. Nowadays, this has turned into a tourist experience, where colourful boats, permanently moored, sell frozen fish cooked on flat griddles.
You can come close to the original experience by walking across to the other side of the Galata Bridge and turning left into the fish market. There they sell genuine fish sandwiches from carts in the street. They use locally caught fish and cook them over charcoal. They then add salad and lemon—not the walnut tarator (sauce) in this recipe, which is my improvement on the memory.
SERVES 4
TARATOR
15 g (½ oz/¼ cup) breadcrumbs
60 g (2¼ oz/½ cup) walnuts
2 garlic cloves
juice of ½ lemon
pinch of salt
60 ml (2 fl oz/¼ cup) extra virgin olive oil
ROCKET SALAD
12 large rocket (arugula) leaves
1 bunch flat-leaf (Italian) parsley
1 red onion
1 tablespoon chilli flakes
1 tablespoon red wine vinegar
60 ml (2 fl oz/¼ cup) extra virgin olive oil
2 teaspoons salt
juice of ½ lemon
PAN-FRIED WHITING
8 school whiting
185 g (6½ oz/1¼ cups) plain (all-purpose) flour
2 teaspoons salt
1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
250 ml (9 fl oz/1 cup) soda water
250 ml (9 fl oz/1 cup) vegetable oil
pide bread, to serve
şalgam, to serve
First make the tarator. Soak the breadcrumbs in 50 ml (2 fl oz/¼ cup) of water for 5 minutes.
Put the breadcrumbs, walnuts, garlic, lemon juice and salt in a food processor, and pulse. While you’re pulsing, slowly add the olive oil— you are aiming for a spreadable paste like mustard, so add a little more water if it does not seem smooth enough.
Now make the salad. Remove the stalks from the rocket and the parsley. Finely chop the leaves. Finely chop the onion. Mix the leaves, onion, chill flakes, red wine vinegar and oil together in a bowl, then add the salt and lemon juice.
Next, prepare the fish. Slice each fish through the stomach, removing the gut. Butterfly each fish and remove the spine and any bones. Cut off and discard the heads and tails and wash thoroughly Pat the fish dry and dust in about 35 g (1¼ oz/ ¼ cup) of the flour.
Put the remaining flour in a mixing bowl and add the salt and pepper. Make a well in the middle and whisk in the soda water to make a batter.
Heat the vegetable oil in a deep frying pan over high heat. Add a drop of water to the oil. If it sizzles, the oil is ready.
Dip the fish in the batter, allowing the excess to drip off. Carefully lower the whiting into the hot oil and fry for 2 minutes on each side, or until golden. Using a slotted spatula, remove the fish from the pan and place on paper towel to absorb the excess oil.
Cut each pide in half. Spread the tarator on the top and bottom. Put the fillets from two fish on each sandwich, then 2 tablespoons of salad, then close the lid. Serve with a glass of şalgam.
ŞALGAM
PICKLED CARROT AND BEETROOT JUICE
There are certain elements of the Turkish culinary repertoire with which an outsider will have a love-hate relationship—lamb testicles, sheep’s head soup, fried pickles, boza beer, rakı, and şalgam— the earthy refreshment in this recipe. I Love şalgam—especially washed down with rakı, which is a pairing perfected in the Mediterranean town of Adana.
SERVES 16
1 round red turnip
1 beetroot (beet)
1 purple carrot
1 red or green chilli (optional)
165 g (5¾ oz/½ cup) rock salt
1½ tablespoons citric acid
100 g (3½ oz) dried chickpeas
Peel the turnip, beetroot and carrot. Quarter the carrots lengthways. Quarter the turnip and beetroot. If you want your şalgam hot slit down one side of a green or red chilli so the liquid will pull the heat out of the seeds.
Put the vegetables (and the optional chilli) in a 4 litre (140 fl oz/16 cup) preserving jar. Dissolve the rock salt and citric acid in 250 ml (9 fl oz/ 1 cup) of lukewarm water. Pour into the jar. Wrap the chickpeas in a parcel of muslin (cheesecloth) and knot tightly. Put the muslin parcel into the jar. Fill the jar, to the brim, with water. Seal the lid tightly. Leave in a cool spot for 15 days.
After 15 days take out the chickpea parcel and discard. If you keep the jar in the fridge, you can drink the juice, or eat the pickled vegetables for up to 3 months.
AYRAN
MINTED YOĞURT SHAKE
Ayran is the most popular cold drink in Turkey. Religious conservatives call it THE National Drink—as opposed to rakı, alcohol of choice on any meze table. I love the frothy crema rural villagers used to achieve with the traditional method of shaking the yoğurt in a sheepskin or wooden barrel. I’ve found a simpler way using a cocktail shaker and a bit of milk.
SERVES 4
1 bunch mint
135 g (4¾ oz /1 cup) ice
750 g (1 lb 10 oz/3 cups) plain yoğurt
125 ml (4 fl oz/½ cup) milk
125 ml (4 fl oz/½ cup) soda water
1 tablespoon salt
Finely chop the mint. Put the ice and all the other ingredients in a cocktail shaker. Shake vigorously for 30 seconds. Strain into four glasses and serve.
ISLAK
KIDS’ SOGGY BURGER
This is my adaptation of a relatively new street snack, usually found in takeaway joints around Taksim Square in Istanbul, and designed for consumption when you are drunk. It’s a kind of slider, except the sauce is not inside the bun but all around it.
When I first tried islak, I asked the shopkeeper what was in the sauce. He said it was a trade secret. I hung around for a while, and soon saw him pouring the fat that had collected under his döner kebap rotisserie into a mixture of tomato and peppers. I decided not to replicate this, and instead boosted the sauce with ground herbs and spices, and a plum.
My kids love soggy burgers because they are messy and full of flavour. This version won’t give them heart conditions.
SERVES 4
SPICE MIX*
1 teaspoon dried oregano
2 teaspoons ground coriander
2 teaspoons cumin
¼ teaspoon pimento
1 teaspoon sweet paprika
1 teaspoon hot paprika
¼ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1 dried bay leaf
KÖFTE
100 g (3½ oz) breadcrumbs
1 tablespoon white vinegar
1 onion
2 tablespoons chopped flat-leaf (Italian) parsley
200 g (7 oz) minced (ground) lamb mince
(preferably from breast)
400 g (14 oz) minced (ground) veal
1 egg
1 teaspoon salt
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
8 brioches or burger buns
BURGER SAUCE
1 tablespoon butter
2 tablespoons tomato paste
1 plum
500 ml (18 fl oz/2 cups) beef stock
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1 teaspoon dried mint
Using a spice grinder or a food processor, grind the oregano into a powder. Mix all the spices together with the bay leaf. You can keep this powder in a sealed container for up to 3 months.
Put the breadcrumbs in a mixing bowl and moisten with 1 tablespoon of water and the vinegar. Finely grate the onion into the bowl. Stir in the parsley. Add the lamb and veal, break the egg in, then add the salt and ½ tablespoon of the spice mix. Knead with wet hands for 10 minutes until the mixture turns into a paste.
Cover the bowl with a damp cloth or plastic wrap and rest in the fridge for 1 hour.
Divide the meat mixture into eight balls about the size of billiard balls. With wet hands, flatten each ball into a patty about 2 cm (¾ in) thick.
To make the sauce, melt the butter in a saucepan over medium heat, add the tomato paste and stir for 1 minute. Finely chop the plum and add. Add the beef stock, salt, pepper and mint, bring to the boil, then reduce over low heat for 10 minutes.
Heat the vegetable oil over medium heat. Fry four patties at a time for 4 minutes on each side, until brown, then place on paper towel to absorb the excess oil. Repeat with the remaining köfte.
Slice the buns in half. Put a patty in each bun. Dunk each bun into the hot sauce and squash down with a wooden spoon. Remove from the pan and serve two buns per person, with plenty of paper towels for wiping hands.
NOTE
If you have a spice mill, buy coriander, cumin and pimento seeds, and grind them with the dried oregano. Alternatively, buy all ingredients except the bay leaf in powder form.
TEKİRDAĞ KÖFTE
VEAL MEATBALLS WITH WHITE BEAN AND TAHINI SALAD
The west coast city of Tekirdağ is known for two things: its exceptional rakı, due to the grapes and water of the region; and its delicious köfte, consumed in eateries devoted to this one experience and recognised as the most beloved veal dish all across the land of lamb. Each köfte maker in town has a personal secret ingredient, a common one being lungs. You may be relieved to hear my secret ingredient is not lungs, but semolina.
The accompanying salad comes from much further south—the sea resort of Antalya, where they add tahini to everything.
SERVES 4
KÖFTE
3 tablespoons breadcrumbs
½ teaspoon bicarbonate of soda (baking soda)
1 onion
1 garlic clove
500 g (1 lb 2 oz) minced (ground) veal (about 20 per cent fat)
1 teaspoon cumin
1 teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon pimento
½ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
½ teaspoon chilli flakes
1 egg
½ tablespoon fine semolina
4 long yellow chillies
WHITE BEAN AND TAHINI SALAD
390 g (13¾ oz/2 cups) dried white cannellini beans
½ teaspoon sugar
1½ teaspoons salt
3 tablespoons tahini
3 tablespoons olive oil
juice of 1 lemon
2 tablespoons apple cider vinegar
½ bunch flat-leaf (Italian) parsley
½ bunch spring onions (scallions)
1 French shallot (eschalot), chopped
8 cherry tomatoes
8 quail eggs
2 teaspoons sumac
Put the breadcrumbs in a mixing bowl and moisten with 2 tablespoons of water. Stir in the bicarbonate of soda. Finely grate the onion and crush the garlic. Put the meat in the mixing bowl and then add the onion, garlic and the remaining köfte ingredients. Knead with wet hands for 15 minutes until the mixture becomes a smooth paste. Cover the bowl with a damp cloth or plastic wrap and rest in the fridge overnight.
Cover the cannellini beans with boiling water and leave overnight.
Strain and rinse the soaked beans, place in a saucepan with the sugar, cover with water and bring to the boil. Strain the beans and discard the water. Cover again with even more fresh water, add 1 teaspoon of the salt and boil, covered, for 1 hour.
Strain the beans and then transfer to a large salad bowl.
Dilute the tahini in 2 tablespoons of water. Add the olive oil, lemon juice, vinegar and the remaining salt. Mix the tahini dressing through the beans.
Pick the leaves from the parsley and finely chop. Wash the spring onions, then remove the roots and tough outer leaves, and finely chop. Stir the parsley and spring onions through the salad. Finely slice the shallot. Sprinkle the pieces over the beans. Quarter the cherry tomatoes and spread them over the shallot.
Preheat the barbecue hotplate or a grill pan. Add a drop of water. If it sizzles, the grill is ready.
Bring a small saucepan of water to the boil, add the quail eggs and boil for 3 minutes. Remove with a slotted spoon and run them under cold running water. Remove the shells, slice in half and place the halves on top of the salad. Sprinkle a little sumac over the eggs.
Divide the ball of köfte into patties about 1 cm (½ in) thick and about 6 cm (2½) wide. Make indentations with your hand across the top. Put the patties on the barbecue and cook for 2 minutes on each side, until brown. (If you are using a grill pan, cook fir 4 minutes each side.) Char the yellow chillies until the skin is slightly blackened
Serve four köfte per person, with the bean salad and chilli.
KADINBUDU
‘LADIES’ THIGHS’ (VEAL MEATBALLS WITH RICE AND EGGS)
Probably because of the puritanism of their governments over the centuries, Turks have expressed their fascination with anatomy in their approach to naming foodstuffs. There are treats called woman’s bellybutton, vizier’s finger, lady’s lips, sluts’ dumplings and brothel donuts. The plump patties in this recipe made from young cows obviously reminded some nineteenth-century chef of a pleasant experience. The first published mention of this kind of köfte, using mince, watercress and eggs, appears in a Persian dictionary published around 1800— under a more polite name.
SERVES 4
1 onion
2 garlic cloves
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
500 g (1 lb 2 oz) minced (ground) veal mince
110 g (3¾ oz/½ cup) medium-grain rice
2 teaspoons salt
1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1 teaspoon cumin
1 teaspoon ground pimento
2 tablespoons chopped marjoram leaves
3 eggs
150 g (5½ oz/1 cup) plain (all-purpose) flour
250 ml (9 fl oz/1 cup) vegetable oil, for frying
spoon salad, to serve
Finely chop the onion and garlic. Heat the vegetable oil in a frying pan over medium heat. Add the onion and garlic and sauté for 3 minutes, until soft. Add half the mince and stir. Cook for 5 minutes, to evaporate any water it puts out. Transfer to a mixing bowl.
Wash the rice under cold running water. Put 250 ml (9 fl oz/1 cup) of water in a saucepan. Add the rice and salt, and bring to the boil. Boil for 10 minutes, until soft. Strain.
Add the rice to the cooked mince, then add the spices and marjoram. Break 1 egg into the mixture.
Add the remaining (raw) mince. Knead with wet hands for 5 minutes to combine. Cover the bowl with a damp cloth or plastic wrap and rest in the fridge for 30 minutes. Divide the mixture into eight rounds, each about the size of an egg, then flatten each into a patty about 1-2 cm (½-¾ in) thick. Put the flour in a bowl. Lightly beat the remaining eggs in a separate bowl. Coat both sides of each patty in the flour and dip in the egg. Heat the vegetable oil in a frying pan over medium heat. Toss a drop of water into the oil. If it sizzles, the oil is ready. Carefully add the four patties to the pan and cook for 3 minutes on each side, or until golden brown. Using a spatula, remove the patties from the pan and place on paper towel to absorb the excess oil. Repeat with the remaining patties.
Serve two kadınbudu per person, with the spoon salad.
SİMİT KEBABI
LAMB KEBAPS WITH BARBECUED SALAD
Kebap restaurants in Turkey never buy lamb mince. They always make their own using leg and belly meat, and a mighty machete called a zırh. A kebap master will choose an apprentice by putting a piece of paper between the chopping board and the lamb and asking the candidate to mince the meat using only a zırh. If there are no cuts in the paper, the candidate gets the job.
With this kebap it’s important to use the finest bulgur, which is known in Gaziantep as simit. This is not to be confused with the sesame rings we discussed in the breakfast chapter. In Antep dialect, simit means the smallest grains of wheat that fit through a sieve. Their other name is elek altı, which means ‘under the sieve’.
This is a perfect dish for a barbecue, because the salad is char-grilled along with the meat.
SERVES 4
LAMB KEBAPS
90 g (3¼ oz/½ cup) extra fine bulgur
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1 tablespoon cumin
1 teaspoon chilli flakes
10 mint leaves
600 g (1 lb 5 oz) minced (ground) lamb (about 30 per cent fat)
3 garlic cloves
½ onion
SALAD KEBAPS
4 tomatoes
4 shallots
4 green bullhorn peppers (or 2 large green
capsicums/peppers)
8 garlic cloves
2 tablespoons pomegranate molasses
1 tablespoon sweet paprika
1 tablespoon hot paprika
2 tablespoons tomato paste
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon pepper
1 piece pita bread, for holding the skewer
Put the bulgur, salt, pepper, cumin and chilli flakes in a mixing bowl. Add 60 ml (2 fl oz/¼ cup) of hot water. Knead the mixture with wet hands for 1 minute. Finely chop the mint leaves and stir through the mixture.
If you’re using a charcoal grill, you should light it 1 hour before you want to cook. Burn the charcoal for at least 45 minutes and when the flames have died down, and the coals are glowing with a covering of white ash, the barbecue is ready. (If you’re using a gas barbecue, turn it on to medium heat about 5 minutes before you’re ready to cook.)
Put the lamb in a separate bowl. Finely grate the garlic and the onion, and add it to the mince. Add the bulgur mixture and knead with wet hands for 8 minutes, to make a smooth paste. Cover the bowl with a damp cloth and rest for 30 minutes.
Using eight thick metal skewers (ideally 2 cm/¾ in thick), divide the lamb and bulgur into four balls and squash each ball around a skewer, pressing the mixture so it spreads 5 cm (2 in) from the top to 10 cm (4 cm) from the bottom.
To make the salad, cut the tomatoes in half. Skin the shallots. Cut the bullhorn peppers in half. Push the salad pieces onto the four remaining skewers.
Place the eight kebaps on the charcoal grill or barbecue. Cook for 2 minutes, then when the meat on that side is seared, turn and cook the other side for 2 minutes. Turn again, and grill for another 2 minutes on each side. (The fat from the meat will drip on the charcoal and burn, but that smoke adds to the flavour.) Constantly check to see if the meat is at risk of falling off the skewer, and if so, turn it over. Take all the skewers off the heat.
Pull the salad ingredients off their skewers and pulse in a food processor to make a chunky purée. Add the pomegranate molasses, sweet paprika, hot paprika, tomato paste, salt and pepper, and stir.
Divide the salad mix onto four plates. Using the pita bread as a mitten, pull the kebaps off the skewers and place on top of the warm salad. Serve immediatley.
TAVUK ŞIŞ
CHICKEN KEBAPS WITH PRUNE ORZO PILAV
Chicken kebaps are mostly served with a rice pilav in Turkey. I find that a bit boring, and since I share the Ottoman taste for combining meat with dried fruits, I’ve added prunes. Sour plums are popular as summer fruits in Turkey, while the dried version (prunes) are handy in winter. We prefer damsin plums, which are named for their supposed point of origin—Damascus. They were brought to Byzantion by the Romans.
Instead of rice I’ve used a kind of pasta called orzo (the Italian word for barley) or risoni (which translates as ‘big rice’). It’s called kritharáki (little barley) by the Greeks and arpa şehriye (barley grains) by the Turks, but I most like the Arab name lisân al-uşfür, which translates as ‘songbird tongues’.
SERVES 4
KEBAPS
8 chicken thigh fillets
4 thyme sprigs
250 g (9 oz/1 cup) plain yoğurt
100 g (3½ oz/½ cup) capsicum (pepper) paste
125 ml (4 fl oz/½ cup) olive oil
1 teaspoon cumin
1 teaspoon chilli flakes
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
ORZO PILAV
80 g (2¾ oz/½ cup) blanched almonds
750 ml (26 fl oz/3 cups) chicken stock
2 tablespoons butter
2 tablespoons olive oil
270 g (9½ oz/2 cups) orzo pasta
½ teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
10 prunes, seeded and chopped
200 g (7 oz) crumbly feta
Gut the chicken thighs in half, crossways. Pick the leaves from the thyme sprigs and discard the stalks. Mix the yoğurt capsicum paste, olive oil, cumin, chilli flakes, salt, pepper and thyme leaves in a large non-metallic bowl. Add the chicken and thoroughly coat in the yoğurt mixture. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap, transfer to the fridge and leave to marinate for at least 6 hours.
About 1 hour before serving, start making the orzo pilav. If you’re using an oven rather than a grill, preheat it to 220°C (425°F/Gas 7).
Halve the almonds. Put the chicken stock in a saucepan over a low heat and bring to a simmer.
Meanwhile, melt the butter in a saucepan over low heat. Add the olive oil. When it begins to sizzle add the almonds and half the orzo. Brown for 3 minutes. Add the remaining orzo and stir for another 3 minutes. Add the heated chicken stock. Stir and add the salt and pepper. Bring the orzo to the boil, and simmer, covered, for 8 minutes.
Preheat the barbecue hotplate or a grill pan. Add a drop of water. If it sizzles the grill is ready.
Chop the prunes and stir them through the orzo mixture. Simmer, covered, for another 5 minutes. Turn off the heat and stir in the feta. Let the mixture rest, covered, for 10 minutes.
Meanwhile, prepare the kebaps. Using eight metal skewers (ideally 1 cm/½ in wide), push each skewer through two pieces of chicken and place them on the hot grill. Grill for 7 minutes on one side, then 5 minutes on the other side. (If you are using the oven, put the chicken pieces on an oven rack and bake for 10 minutes.)
Divide the orzo pilav onto four plates. Place two skewers on each portion of pilav and serve.
YAPRAK KEBAP
HOME-STYLE VEAL DÖNER KEBAP
Sadly, the world sees döner kebap (also known by the Greek word gyro or the Arabic word shawarma) as the pinnacle of Turkey’s cooking culture. Tourists in Turkey are often told that this vertical way of grilling sliced meat was invented by the Iskender family in the 1860s in the town of Bursa as a way to avoid fat dripping onto the coals and creating a lot of smoke. In one tale we hear that Mr Iskender skewered slices of meat on his sword and stuck it in the ground next to a stack of burning wood. My scholarly friend Musa has discovered that this way of cooking was used throughout Anatolia and the Middle East long before Mr Iskender opened his restaurant.
The Iskender family from Bursa now has a chain of restaurants around Turkey serving döner kebap with yoğurt pide and their own barbecued tomato sauce. They call it Iskender kebap—a name that has been copied and a dish that has been bastardised all over the world. This recipe is my suggestion of how to get a similar effect when you don’t have a vertical rotisserie. Most offerings outside Turkey use pressed mince. The real döner kebap should be made with slices of veal, with minced meat only used to stick the veal slices together.
SERVES 4
VEAL KEBAP
800 g (1 lb 12 oz) veal backstrap
8 onions
2 garlic cloves
1 tablespoon capsicum (pepper) paste
1 tablespoon plain yoğurt
1 tablespoon dried oregano
1 dried bay leaf
6 slices day-old bread (or 3-day-old pide bread)
2 tablespoons butter, plus extra for greasing
DÖNER KEBAP SAUCE
2 tablespoons butter, melted
2 tablespoons tomato paste
500 ml (17 fl oz/2 cups) beef stock
½ tablespoon salt
1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1 teaspoon sugar
1 teaspoon dried mint
250 g (9 oz/1 cup) plain yoğurt, to serve
The day before you are planning to serve this, clean the outer fat and sinews off the backstrap. Slice as thinly as you can, then pound each slice with the back of a wooden spoon (or a meat tenderiser if you have one) to make a slice about 8 cm (3¼ in) across and less than 5 mm (¼ in) thick. Cut the slices in half.
Finely grate the onions. Squeeze all the onion juice through a fine sieve or muslin (cheesecloth) into a non-metallic bowl.
Crush the garlic and add it to the onion juice, along with the capsicum paste, yoğurt oregano and bay leaf. Mix well. Add the veal and coat in the onion mixture. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap, transfer to the fridge and leave to marinate overnight.
If you’re using a charcoal grill, you should light it 1 hour before you want to cook. Burn the charcoal for at least 45 minutes and when the flames have died down, and the coals are glowing with a covering of white ash, the barbecue is ready.
(If you’re using a gas barbecue, turn it on to medium-high about 5 minutes before you’re ready to cook.)
Preheat the oven to 180°C (350°F/Gas 4).
Cut the bread into 2 cm (¾ in) cubes. Brush with butter. Grease a baking tray, place the bread in the tray and bake for 5 minutes until golden.
To make the sauce, melt the butter in a saucepan over medium heat, add the tomato paste, cook for 1 minute, add the beef stock, salt, pepper, sugar and mint, and then bring to the boil.
Cook the veal slices on the charcoal grill or barbecue for 2 minutes each side.
Divide the bread pieces onto four plates. Put five or six pieces of veal on each plate, pour over the sauce, dollop with yoğurt and serve.
Turks prefer to eat lunch all day long outside casual ‘salons’ that serve döner kebabs sliced from a giant ball of meat and a vertical grill.
YENİ DÜNYA KEBABI
LOQUAT KEBAPS
This is one of the many seasonal kebaps of Gaziantep in southeastern Anatolia, appearing at the beginning of spring and served for only three weeks. It uses loquats picked just before they are ripe (if you can’t find loquats, try to use almost-ripe apricots). Usually a family will layer the fruit and meat in their own baking tray and get the kids to carry the tray to the nearest bakery to be cooked in a wood-fire oven. At other times of the year they might layer garlic, shallots and eggplant (aubergine) with the meat.
There are two ways of cooking this dish: one over charcoal, the other in the oven. I mix both methods here, first giving the kebaps a smoky flavour on the barbecue, then finishing them off in the oven. If you don’t have a barbecue, do the whole thing in the oven.
SERVES 4
500 g (1 lb 2 oz) lamb mince (with about 25 per cent fat)
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
20 loquats (or apricots)
2 spring onions (scallions)
3 garlic shoots (or 1 garlic clove)
8 cherry tomatoes
2 tablespoons pomegranate molasses
1 tablespoon sumac
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 tablespoon chilli flakes
pita bread, to serve
If you’re using a charcoal grill, you should light it 1 hour before you want to cook. Burn the charcoal for at least 45 minutes and when the flames have died down, and the coals are glowing with a covering of white ash, the barbecue is ready. (If you’re using a gas barbecue, turn it on to medium heat about 5 minutes before you’re ready to cook.)
Put the lamb in a mixing bowl. Add the salt and pepper, and knead with wet hands for 2 minutes. Divide the meat into twenty balls about the size of walnuts.
Slit each loquat (or apricot) down one side, pull the halves partly apart and remove the seeds and the surrounding membrane. Stuff a ball of meat into each loquat.
Preheat the oven to 180°C (350°F/Gas 4).
Using four flat metal skewers (ideally 1 cm/½ in thick), push five loquats onto each skewer. Each loquat should have the open side facing upwards, so the skewer passes through both sides of the fruit and also the meat.
Put the kebap skewers on the charcoal grill or barbecue, with the open sides of the loquats facing upwards. Cook for 3 minutes on each side then remove from the heat. Remove the loquats from the skewers and put them in a round baking dish (preferably terracotta) leaving a space in the middle.
Wash the spring onions, then remove the roots and tough outer leaves. Roughly chop the spring onions and the garlic shoots (or garlic clove). Halve the cherry tomatoes and mix them with the spring onions and garlic shoots in a salad bowl. Add the pomegranate molasses, sumac, olive oil and chill flakes. Toss the salad.
Make a mound of the tomato salad in the middle of the loquats (pushing the loquats to make it fit). Put the tray in the oven and cook for 15 minutes.
Serve with pita bread.
ALİ NAZİK
‘THE GENTLE KEBAP’ (LAMB AND SMOKED EGGPLANT)
The literal translation of the Turkish name for this dish is ‘gentle Ali’, leading to the theory that the creator was a chef named Ali. More likely, though, the name is a corruption of ala nazik (good and gentle) or eli nazik (gentle hand). In the land of dubious etymologies, the name is often said to have come from an event in the early 1500s, when Sultan Selim I ate a dish of eggplant and lamb and asked: ‘What gentle hand made this?’ Hopefully the answer was a good chef named Ali.
While I have adapted many of the regional recipes in this book to modern forms, this one is exactly as I first consumed it in Gaziantep. It won us the ‘Best in Taste’ award at the Taste of Sydney festival in 2012. Thanks, Ali.
SERVES 4
1 red capsicum (pepper)
700 g (1 lb 9 oz) lamb (at least 25 per cent fat), coarsely minced (ground)
1 teaspoon salt
1 tablespoon paprika
1 tablespoon chilli flakes
500 g (1 lb 2 oz/2 cups) plain yoğurt
4 large eggplants (aubergines)
juice of 1 lemon
4 garlic cloves
2 teaspoons salt
75 g (22/3 oz) butter
CHILLI AND CAPSICUM BUTTER
75 g (22/3 oz) butter
1 red capsicum (pepper), chopped
50 g (1¾ oz) chilli flakes
1 piece pita bread, for holding the skewer
Cut the capsicum in half and remove the stalk and seeds. Chop into quarters and pulse in a blender until finely minced. Transfer the capsicum to a mixing bowl and add the lamb, salt, paprika and chilli flakes. Knead the mixture for 5 minutes with wet hands to make a smooth paste. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap, transfer to the fridge and leave to marinate overnight.
Place the yoğurt on a sheet of muslin (cheesecloth) and tie up the corners. Hang the muslin over a pot overnight to allow the yoğurt to thicken.
In the morning, take the meat mixture out of the fridge and divide it into four balls, each about 180 g (6½ oz). Wrap the meat around four flat metal skewers (ideally 2 cm/¾ in thick). Squash each ball around the skewer, pressing the mixture so it spreads 5 cm (2 in) from the top to 10 cm (4 in) from the bottom. Once all four skewers are firmly covered, put them back in the fridge for at east 1 hour.
If you’re using a charcoal grill, you should light it 1 hour before you want to cook. Burn the charcoal for at least 45 minutes and when the flames have died down, and the coals are glowing with a covering of white ash, the barbecue is ready. (If you’re using a gas barbecue, turn it onto medium heat about 5 minutes before you’re ready to cook.)
Char the eggplants on an open flame until the skin is blackened. When they are cool, scoop out the flesh and put the pieces in a colander for 10 minutes to lose some of their water. Drizzle on the lemon juice to help them retain their colour.
Roughly chop the eggplant into a chunky purée. Crush the garlic with 1 teaspoon of the salt. Mix the strained yoğurt with the crushed garlic. Set aside.
To make the chilli and capsicum butter, melt the butter in a frying pan over low heat. Add the capsicum and chilli flakes. Cook for 2 minutes. Set aside.
Melt the butter in a frying pan. Add the chopped eggplants and the remaining salt. Heat the mixture for 1 minute then divide onto four plates. Spread the garlic yoğurt over the eggplant.
Put the kebaps on the charcoal grill or barbecue. Cook for 2 minutes, until the meat on one side has seared, then turn over and cook the other side for 2 minutes. Turn again, and cook for 2 minutes on each side. The fat will drip on the charcoal and burn, but that smoke adds to the flavour. Constantly check to see if the meat is at risk of falling off the skewer, and if so, turn it over.
Use the piece of pita bread as a mitten to grip the meat and pull it off the skewer. Cut the meat from each skewer into three and place the three pieces on the yoğurt. Pour the chilli and capsicum butter into a jug (pitcher) for people to help themselves and serve immediately.
