(photo by Ansel Mullins)

A migrant from Malatya in Eastern Turkey who hustled tea near the Egyptian Bazaar as a boy, by the mid 1990’s he lorded over an empire of kokoreç stands – 33 at its peak – walked his own production floor, drove a white Mercedes (“when that model was in style,” Vahap Usta pointed out) and counted more than 50 tuxedos in his closet. Beyond the financial gain, though, Vahap Usta was a cult figure – the Willy Wonka of kokoreç – who helped make this street food iconic. And then he disappeared. “Vahap Usta is like a kite without a string. You never know where he will end up,” said Vahap’s old neighbor, optician Bilgin Bilgic, to the Aksam Newspaper in 2003.

The legend of Vahap Usta lives on in Facebook pages (“Vahap Usta Neredesin?/Where are you Vahap Usta?” asks one) and through claims of recent sightings and nostalgic blog posts of encounters long past. But for quite a while no one seemed to know what exactly happened to the kokoreç King himself. Our attention was brought to this story by friend and fellow trencherman Salih abi, author of the great food blog Harbi Yiyorum. We followed false leads for a year before we finally found Vahap Usta, working at his kokoreç counter on a commercial strip in the Sisli neighborhood.

So what happened to Vahap Usta? He sighed and removed his reading glasses, which, we noticed, were missing one arm.  “Nobody can lose money the way I can. It is an art form,” he said flashing a grin.

Though he says that he was the first to grill long thick rolls of kokoreç over coals as a street food, we’ve found evidence to the contrary. And there is no way to verify the claim that he sold around 12,000 kokoreç sandwiches and a truckful of ayran every day from his cart, because, like many things about Vahap Usta, his books are not available for review.

But we do know that Vahap Usta’s boom coincided with a wave of kokoreç popularity, when its image transformed from a somewhat obscure street food into a staple of Turkish pop culture. At the time, conflict in Eastern Turkey raged, Turgut Ozal, then prime minister of Turkey, was selling state assets like hot potatoes and Istanbul’s population doubled (again). As Turkey’s largest city and economic powerhouse, Istanbul was rapidly modernizing and experienced serious growing pains. Fortunes were made and lost along the way. On the streets of Istanbul, meanwhile, a revolution was taking place, with the business principles of western fast food meeting the flavors of traditional Turkish street fare to create a wholly unique hybrid. Did Vahap Usta start the revolution? Did he ride a wave originated elsewhere (at Hamburger University in Oak Brook Ill, perhaps)? What was the situation of street food in Istanbul, and Istanbul itself, in the 1980’s and 90’s that would encourage a man with no experience to declare himself a master of an old trade and model his business on Colonel Sanders?

The answers to these questions lie within the story of Vahap Usta. In this series we’ll try to unravel the rise, fall and possible rebirth of this ambitious culinary entrepreneur, the P.T. Barnum of grilled intestines, and see what created the kokoreç king and, beyond that, his kingdom.

In the meantime, if you’d like to drop in for a kokoreç, Vahap Usta is set up in front of Emek Kebabi in Sisli:
Address: Abide-I Hurriyet Caddesi 124, Sisli
Telephone: +90212 2341065

(photo by Ansel Mullins)

We were then equally puzzled a couple of weeks ago to see a new hamburger restaurant, with the same décor, menu style and a suspiciously similar logo open in the same location. We can’t speak for the food, but in the category of originality, Roll Burger scores very low.

Skulking around Beyoglu, thinking about the injustice visited upon our friends at Mano, we turned the corner at Asmali Mescit, and, like a mirage, saw hanging off the side of a building the sign of Mano Burger – the real Mano Burger.

We stopped in for one of their classic “Oxnard” burgers, fries and a chat with the management about what happened. In the previous location in Tunel, it seems the municipality had complaints about their ventilation system, which often left the square smelling like one big grilled patty. When they extended the chimneys up above the roof, the whirling dervish museum right behind them complained about the unpleasant view from their yard. Stuck between the angry dervishes and municipal inspectors licking their chops, the Mano team decided to leave the Tunel location and moved over to Asmali Mescit Caddesi.

So what about Roll Burger?

Mano’s old landlord seemed to think there was still good burger-flipping potential in the shop despite its ventilator blues. Apparently hoping to retain Mano’s traffic, he opened Roll Burger right on their heels. The Mano crew isn’t pleased with Roll Burger’s ambush but remains confident that it won’t hinder their business or their claim to be the best burger in town. “The flavor is here and people know that,” said Mano manager Cihad bey.

Address: Asmali Mescit Caddesi 7, Beyoglu
Telephone: +902122927542

(photos by Ansel Mullins)

For those New Yorkers who are planning a visit to Istanbul and want to try hamsi in its natural habitat, a roundup of our five six favorite spots to eat the little fish in Istanbul can be found here. Hurry up, though: the impending arrival of summer also means the end of hamsi season.

(Editor’s Note: Unfortunately, Cafe Euro is longer in business. The search is now on for another authentic Georgian restaurant in Istanbul. Stay tuned.)

Last year we ran a guest post by Delicious Istanbul author Olga Tikhonova about Cafe Euro, a rollicking Georgian spot near a bus terminal in Aksaray. But we were happy to read Istanbul-based journalist David Trilling’s recent dispatch from Cafe Euro over at Eurasianet’s Kebabistan blog, which provides even more color about what is an extremely colorful spot (and truly one of the few authentic Georgian restaurants in Istanbul). You can find David’s wonderful report here.

Led by members of the Istanbul Eats team, the Kebab Krawl is a carefully curated nighttime feast of traditional southeastern Turkish cuisine that changes locations with every course, allowing you to take in the best of this atmospheric out-of-the-way ‘hood. The Krawl will begin with the gumbo-like masterpiece soup, beyran corbasi, and then detour for skewered liver from a 4^th generation Urfa griller. There will be a stop at a bakery for artisanal lahmacun straight out of the oven and then we’ll belly up to the kebab bar of Veysel usta, for his exceptionally delicious handmade kebabs, served up with sharp wit. We will not relent until the group has made one more stop, for the neighborhood’s best kunefe, a funky pastry of fresh cheese and crispy shredded wheat spiked with Antep pistachios. As it rolls along, the Kebab Krawl will also make stops at other local food and spice shops for a further taste of local flavor.

Less a tour than an organized movable feast for the hungry and intrepid, the Kebab Krawl may not replace a bus ticket to Urfa, but it is the next best thing.

The Kebab Krawl will be offered regularly starting in February. Please contact us at isteatswalks@gmail.com for more details.

We invite all of our readers to submit their most memorable Istanbul (or Turkey) dining moments of 2011. We will post your dispatches along with our own during the last two weeks of December. If possible, please include a photograph with all submissions, which should be sent to istanbuleats@gmail.com.

Our bazaar bag, meanwhile, is the ideal companion for those trips to the weekly produce bazaar (or, depending on where you live, the farmer’s market). Made out of sturdy canvas, this deep bag has more than enough room to hold all your shopping. And it’s stylish, to boot, its sides decorated with an original print by Istanbul-based artist Olga Alexopoulou. The bag costs $25.

To buy the book, click here. For the bag, click here.