I like to clean when I need a quick dose of control / accomplishment in my life. I recently realized cooking to be a cousin of this concept, except a little better, or maybe just better in its difference but similarity to the original idea. Not only is it more fun & creative, but you get to happily enjoy your labor with others at the end. So while certainly distinct from cleaning, it is equally worthwhile in this category of self-help mini-projects.

So that is when, last Wednesday night, ground turkey kimchi pancakes came to be. I usually make these pancakes with ground pork but we had ground turkey so I said to myself, 'why not?'. About a pound of ground turkey, a 1/2 cup of flour, 2 eggs, scallions, a good handful of cilantro, thinly sliced red cabbage and about 2 cups of roughly chopped kimchi went into the p-cakes. (This is from memory, use your own judgment...) Fried in olive oil until crispy. I'd say I made at least 20.



Oddly enough, they REALLY tasted like crab or fish. It is quite bizarre but perhaps an achievement! I didn't mind that; they were spicy, soft inside, crisp outside and really delicious, if I do say so myself. And made me want to make them with crab (though I guess that's not necessary).




The full meal turned out to be; the pancakes, home-made pad thai with shrimp (brought by a friend), coconut sushi rice, pork and leek dumplings, cucumber & mango salad, green beans with garlic and ginger -- all doused in lime and ponzu.




How romantic.

Afternoon Delight

After a walk home from class in brisk, November weather, I was more than eager to arrive 'home'. My house mate was there, and we pondered lunch possibilities until settling on something quite extravagant for a measly Monday afternoon.

A lightly kimchi'ed broth (kimchi run-off (juice)) with garlic, carrots, sriracha, soy sauce and spinach. Cucumber matchsticks thrown in just before serving.




Simultaneously, soba noodles and pork&leek dumplings were boiling. Roughly chopped kimchi was added in too.

The components were plated; soup first, noodles second, kimchi last. Then sesame oil.




Add one cool spoon and a splash of ponzu and you've got yourself a deal.



(For the record, I would have added ginger but we didn't have any)

break fast

break egg

Nice Rice

A Wah: 5 Catherine Street. The place that many publications (now including this lil one) have insisted is the place to visit in NYC for superior bo zai fan, a Chinese rice-casserole with a multiplicity of protein possibilities. You may wait and you will be overwhelmed but the ensuing pleasure will outweigh everything.


But before the rice, there is no viable option beyond crispy skin duck in a soft bun.




'Perfect' comes to mind with little hesitation, even in this distant recollection of the pleasure I enjoyed this summer when I ate here. Crispy skin meets tender meat in one square inch. A few vegs for balance and a thick sauce so unite each bite. Those pillowy buns are just as soft as they look (trust me, I rubbed one on my cheek).



Next, the bo zai fan. To paraphrase my close friends at the Village Voice, 'bo zai fan are made by depositing cooked rice in a porous and lidded clay pot that's been pre-soaked in water, then dumping two or three ingredients on top, from a catalog that favors frog, pork, preserved vegetables, duck, chicken legs, and aromatics such as scallions and ginger. The pot is then heated on the brazier for 15 minutes, so the flavors fully penetrate the rice.'
Once it arrives at the table, it is up to you to dress it up with thick, house-made soy sauce, a dense, pink vinegar, or spicy, pastey oil. Each layer is a different experience; the softest rice at the top is most imbued with the flavor of the add in, the middle layer is a mushy delight, and the bottom is a cripsy and burnt reward for stretching your stomach.




No matter how full you are, there is always room for an egg white & ginger custard. I'll leave that gelatinous wonder up to the imagination.

Resurrection

It's been so long I no longer remember what font I use, how I format, but I'll figure it out soon.

With a little help from my friends I realized it was due time to come back to this project (omg).
Especially after such a good dinner tonight.

So this is no longer exclusively Turkey -- besides, I eat so many other delightful things.




It's November. Real fall has just set in. Kitchen Kreativity was on the low this week and last... Our senior-status has challenged our engagement in procedural and complex culinary expeditions. But we decided to fight back...


Ricotta gnocchi; made with part-skim ricotta, 2 eggs, and a mixture of whole wheat and white flour.




The dough was gently formed into "babies", rolled out into a tube with excess flour coating the hands, and then segmented, dropped into boil water and removed after they floated, roughly 2-3 minutes. Next, they awaited their true fate in a pot with some butter and fresh sage.




A map of the operation. And the spinach.





The side-project (pretty central though in reality); grated ambercup squash cooked with butter, sage, nutmeg and a bit 'o water.



a + b + c = d licious




& why not complete the occasion by pudding some soft, spiced, bread, banana and pumpkin in my mouth?




Pumpkin & Banana Bread Pudding. Super moist, not quite sweet enough on its own but I am always happy to adjust such things on a case by case basis.

More to come soon.

Final Remarks from Constantinople

So we sat down at this restaurant;



on the corner of Minare Sokak in Beyoglu / Tunel area. I had walked by a number of times and the piles of fresh vegetables in the window were always appealing.



So after being asked 'meat' or 'vegetables' (and answering MEAT, of course), plate upon plate arrived one by one; arugula, parsley and lemon, tomato salad with pomegranate vinegar, scallions and mint...



Then nicely charred and spiced vegetables and an onion-sumak salad...



Then roughly 9 mini lamb şiş kebaps per person!



This array of possibilities allowed for countless permutations. Each combination of meat, grilled vegetables, hot pepper, mint, fresh tomatoes, lemon'd arugula was rolled up in thin, warm bread.




Highly, highly recommended -- encompasses and epitomizes all important factors in a meal; spice, citrus, heat, freshness, variety. Order ayran with it.




Other recommendations enjoyed recently:

1. Antiochia Concept (For Dinner)

Address: Minare Sokak, Asmalimesict
Phone: 212-292-1100
Web: www.antiochiaconcept.com

2. Van Kahvalti Evi (For a top-notch Breakfast)

Address: Defterdar Yokuşu No: 52.A, Cihangir
Telephone: 212-293-6437

Off to the east!

respite from thunder

Still in Greece (in this post, not in real life)...

I chose this little lunch spot as droplets started falling. I heard the hum of a TV and saw an elderly lady in an apron in the back and decided it could not be a bad idea.


The menu was completely in Greek, so the chef's son helped me--I expressed a love for eggplants and a desire for the feta and chili pepper spread I saw up front. So, 70 cents for a glass of chilled white barrel wine was enjoyed while I waited. The channel was soon changed to Greek Idol.



Like most Greek food (I learned) the eggplant came fried with tzatziki, the spread was creamy and spicy, and bread was crunchy and ample. The salad was salad.


It definitely wasn't the most stunning meals of my life (but very enjoyable, just being frank)--I wanted to wipe the oil of the eggplants and was cheesed out by the end. But sitting alone in a restaurant, with mother and son speaking Greek, chuckling at wannabe celebs, the open storefront revealing the thunder storm outside... Lunches like that are just another reason I so enjoy meals.

Sweets

Greek Sweets.

Of course most Baklavah looks good but this was just too honey'd for me.


Bread, cakes, ya know.


Candy.
I didn't buy those sour straws but they appeared in my dream the night that I saw them. There was something in the middle of them. I think I should have bought some.



To the left, a treat that I sometimes enjoy in my own country (Turkey, that is); two thin wafers with nougat and pistachios (or even better, fig paste) sandwiched in between.



All sorts of creamy puffs.



I settled on two (lighter) snacks whose photos aren't so entrancing;
1. a homemade, soft and chewy sesame-honey-almond bar. Delicious. Nice roasted flavor. Good for the bus home, finger-lickin good. There's something I like about eating seeds.
2. a bar made of intensely cooked down apples - think solid apple sauce, studded with almonds. Quite sweet, I found it most pleasurable open-sandwich style on a banana slice.

Thessaloniki, Grease (part I)

The food is Greasy.
Greecey.


If you find yourself in Thessaloniki, a coastal city in Greece, birthplace of my BFF Ataturk and Europe's 1997 "Capital of Culture", you will probably be pretty happy. Or so I suspect. While the city is not overwhelmingly beautiful or exciting, it is undeniably charming, manageable, walkable, and wrought with history (a byzantine church hides around every corner). It is also wrought with some pretty delicious food.


So, if you find yourself in the port area of Thessa, find this street where it meets the shore.


Look to the right and see this restaurant. Looks less than desirable, but I thought an image would be good.




I grabbed a table on the side street, partially shaded. No menu. I asked for some fried cod, a tomato salad and a beer.



These came promptly and the fish arrived soon after on a piece of paper.




Thick, crunchy/chewy crust, oily for sure but housed inside was warm, tender, moist, meaty cod.



I usually would have doused this in vinegar, red pepper flakes or anything if I'd be given it--it was nice to just enjoy it as it was, with onions from the salad and a cold beer (not Efes, finally!) to wash it down. And a long walk to follow.

Perfect first lunch.

If you find yourself in Beirut...

Eat here:

Abu Hassan, on Caracas Street, Manara.

Order as much as you can (be wary, portions are large). It is exquisitely delicious. Undeniably similar to but also distinct from Turkish food. Sorry, I can go no further than that.

Drink here:
The Rabbit Hole on Makdissi Street. Their happy hour is just 2 happy 2 handle. Try (so I've heard...) their "doodoo" shot (maybe it's spelled differently in Lebanese, I don't think so but I'm not sure) (its vodka + lemon juice + tobasco + an olive) or their bloody mary martini, or their long island iced tea.

Destination Dining

Yusuf Usta'nin Yeri in Bostanci. I'd read about it in a few places, praised for being a great neighborhood spot with incredible kebaps. So a few friends and I went to check it out. Bostanci is a neighborhood about... 20 minutes away from Kadikoy (so its a bit outside of my normal sphere), but I was glad to adventure there, via bus, then ferry, then cab. But it was definitely worth the trek, to find both the neighborhood and the food. The restaurant was set halfway below street level, with tables both inside and out, and (I'm pretty sure), no other americans. It's a good thing we brought a turkish friend along.
Our selection of Mezes out of a pool of about 6 (nice to not be overwhelmed with 12 or 20, as usual); hummus, baba, and Cacık (Turkish tzatziki), served with lettuce.


My plate: with mini-pide, mini-lahmacun, lettuce and sumak'd onions.



My choice (of two, no menu) -- charred, grilled liver, tomatoes, and hot peppers. The other option was an adana kebap, a specialty of Adana (it is spicier than the usual kebap).



Served with a bowl of cumin for sprinkling. That I loved. The liver... it was good. I think that an appetizer serving might have suited me better, some of the pieces were a little dry or too big while some were small, crispy on the outside, juicy on the inside, and held their grilled taste perfectly, as most Turkish food does.


They serve the meal with arugula, a definite plus.



& the perfect dessert for this awesome meal? tart green plums (eat with a sprinkle of salt) and strawberries with powdered sugar.


If you got the time, give some to this place. And maybe stick with the Adana kebap, unless you have a certain penchant for liver or a good friend to "do business" with (that means share).

Eminali Paşa Cad, No:63/5, Bostancı, Istanbul

Days in the life

Another fine dining experience at my favorite spot, Ciya.
After a round of salads, two soups.
#1 (and it was #1): yogurt soup with lamb, artichoke heart, chickpeas and saffron. Unlike anything I have had before... subtle and soft and oh so delicious.


#2. Lamb meatballs, Köfte, with sour cherries. Not my favorite, but still delectable, sweet and savory. With a nice sprinkling of fresh parsley and some soggy bread underneath.




After, some beautiful (and best) marzipan in Kadikoy. With a hint of something I just can't place until it's in my mouth, these cuties are much better than average, airbrushed to perfection and they come in an impressive plethora of shapes and sizes (note the white growths coming out of the potatoes). The peaches are my favorite.





It's not often I find a brew that ain't Efes... Let alone something so close to home...


That means "yes"!

It's the international edition.



Cool.
Still haven't popped it. Waiting for the purrrfect moment.

Lessons from a Master

So, I have Turkish family friends... a Turkish family. Not only have they lead my family and I to amazing restaurants (for baklvah this place is top notch, and head next door for amazing lentil soup, iskender kebap, and a quiet, mostly-male-business-lunch crowd (that wasn't meant to be a deterrent), or their favorite stall in the spice bazaar, with the finest spices, nuts, and dried fruit that I rave about weekly. They helped us find (and order at) Borsa, which was doubtlessly the best meal I have had here, despite my concerns about the slightly... well... mid-40s-Madison-Avenue-feel. Not going here would have been a grave mistake and if you are willing to open your pockets you will not regret it, I promise.

Anyway, they have been helpful and hospitable in all sense of the word, they have opened their home and their family to me. But we reached a whole new level of closeness when I was invited to cook dolma with the matriarch! So last Saturday, I headed up the Bosphorus to Tarabya, where they live, which is a quieter, slightly suburban area. I headed in to meet Layla ("the mom"), and she had prepared a "simple lunch", but it's simplicity was in how simply amazing it was. An artichoke heart, boiled, drizzled with olive oil, with cooked beans, carrots and onions atop. Chard, cooked down with onions. A heaping spoonful of yogurt (which she makes every morning) from a terra cotta pot. Dill and lemon partnered these components quite nicely. Lastly, a salad of arugula, golden raisins (which I usually don't like...), mint and walnuts. Perfect little lunch, enjoyed on the terrace, listening to Layla talk about slow food, cooking, and her mother ("the matriarch" (I named her that, not them)).

A quick hummus lesson before heading out--boiled and shelled chickpeas are smashed with a fork. Then lemon juice, tahini, salt and yogurt are added. Yogurt, how clever. Layla said that they like it white and tahini heavy, and that it was.

So we head over to meet ye pint-sized matriarch, who opens her arms to me. I am lead into the kitchen and broken english + broken turkish commence, but smiles, gestures and saying "çok güzel" (which means "very nice" or "very pretty" (it's really the most important phrase to know)) does the trick. Layla translated her dolma secrets; cooled white rice combines with cooked onions ("always onions, everywhere"), parsley, pine nuts, cinnamon, olive oil, salt, pepper, currants(I think I'm forgetting a thing or two... sorry).



This is a nice, oily mixture, with crunch, subtle sweetness, and warmth (ahhh, cinnamon). The leaves, picked from their grape vines, are washed and boiled and cooled/dried, and ready to be rolled. Ye Matriarch taught me the right way (I was being way too geometric and planned, its all about faith in the fingers), and we rolled leaf upon leaf, filling a whole pot with dolma. A little water/lemon juice/oil on top, the pot is sealed, and they are cooked at low temperature for about an hour. These would be eaten at Mother's day brunch, the following afternoon.



But for our own enjoyment, some Börek. It is a common pastry, sweet or savory, which comes in many shapes, sizes and varieties, though all share layers of some sort of dough and some sort of filling, baked. Börek is made with a kind of thin pastry dough, but there is also Su böreği ("water börek"), which is uses boiled dough (hence the water aspect), giving it an incredible thick-and-eggy consistency. It is very difficult to make (says ye Matriarch), I believe her. Layla had made some earier (and froze it), so we merely defrosted it, painted it with egg yolks, sprinkled it with black cumin, and stuck it in the oven. Ours was filled chard and cheese. It was enjoyed warm with multiple glasses of tea and very pleasant company.




The extras, to be saved for another day.


And yes, this all does mean that I got to enjoy the Mother's Day brunch at Layla's sister's house. Never have my eyes or stomach been so delighted, with every Turkish breakfast food imaginable, all homemade, all fresh. Fresh tomatoes, peppers, cucumbers, grapes. 5 kinds of cheese (including special spicy cheese from Antokya, in the southeast). 3 kinds of sliced meat. Turkish s savory crepe/pancakes filled with meat or spinach. Su böreği with meat. Sugar soaked figs, black walnuts, melon and pumpkin. Black carrots. Dolma. Bread. Rose jam. Clotted cream. Tea. And a slice of moist, light, strawberry cake with heavenly cream for dessert. And I know that I am forgetting things, because I couldn't even see the end of the table. All to say, what an amazing two days! Layla and her mother promise to teach me some of their ways, as many as I can absorb while I am here. (Including a personal favorite, Moussaka!)