After the drama of yesterday, today we decided on a quiet day’s exploration. So we took the tram to the other side of the Golden Horn, past Aksaray, to areas new. This is a very Syrian part of town and I’d heard of a fine Syrian restaurant there; from there it was only about 20 minutes to Fener/Balat where we would have some coffee and then return.
So we walked past university campuses and COVID-19 testing camps with rather too many people crowded in close quarters than seemed appropriate, and finally arrived in what was undoubtedly a small Syria town. A lovely neighbourly sort of area, everyone speaking in Arabic, lots of family bustling through shops which had a definite Levantine feel to them.
We arrived at the restaurant and the first thing we saw was a bunch of people waiting outside. The second was a tandoor with a very tall naanchi spinning naans (or the Syrian equivalent) onto a cloth covered cushion to apply to the inside of the tandoor, then pulling out delicious looking charred, blistered naans. It looked fantastic.
There was a half hour wait so we went to a nearby park to watch children playing and adults strolling and chatting. Then return, to have one of the best meals yet. An absolutely lovely waiter told us what he thought we should order, which we did – some hummus with chickpeas and olive oil, a plate of mixed fuul, baba ghanoush and some falafel and pickles. Absolutely delicious all of it, and different from their Turkish equivalents in small ways I’m not quite able to define. The flavours were both more subtle and more flavourful, and I’m not sure what it was about them. In the back of the restaurant was a little eternal fountain of ayran, which again was absolutely superb.
It was a really lovely meal, in a place with a lovely feel, and the naans were indeed as delicious as they looked, right up there with some of the best in Pakistan.
We staggered out, feeling very pleased indeed, and strolled on towards Balat through new and interesting streets, passing a handful of ancient mosques and churches-turned-mosques along the way. In Balat we stopped for a coffee, though it was getting quite chilly now, and then returned on a cab.
The trip has inspired me to start doing a great deal of research on immigrant communities in Istanbul. I am convinced there is very good non-Turkish food out there and a lot of it will be new to me.
On returning, I found myself unable to eat any dinner – it was a late lunch certainly, around 4, but also one consisting almost entirely of beans and chickpeas.