What to do? We stepped outside and took a look around and saw few promising options in this part of town, known as Laleli, a wholesale clothing district dominated by shops selling cut-rate leather and fur coats and by cheapo kebab joints. That’s when we remembered a recent tip we had been given about a new “Uzbek” restaurant in the area. After making a few inquiries with some locals, we found ourselves inside the gleaming Mihman, a Central Asian restaurant that opened its doors only a few months ago.

Things looked promising right off the bat. The vaguely gaudy décor and the frilly tea cozies on the tables telegraphed Central Asian authenticity. This was quickly reinforced by the pot of steaming green tea that was brought to our table, to be drunk – Central Asian style – out of small bowls. The encyclopedic menu, meanwhile, promised a long list of tempting dishes, both familiar classics and intriguing obscure ones that will make a return visit a must.

Perhaps overcome with hunger and a sense of nostalgia for previous meals we’ve had in the land of the ‘stans, we went ahead and ordered several things. Perhaps we were again overcome by hunger and nostalgia, but we can report that everything we ordered at Mihman – run by an Uzbek who hails from the Uighur city of Kashgar in western China – was a winner. The extremely fresh puffy little round loaves of Uzbek naan seemed as if they had been flown in from Tashkent that morning. The plump Uighur-style manti were superb. Çuçure, a soulful reddish broth that had tiny dumplings floating in it, hit the spot on a rainy night. The very tasty Kashgar kebab, grilled chunks of lamb flavored with an earthy-tasting mix of spices, took us back in time to a long-ago visit to the dish’s namesake city.

We ended the meal by renewing our plov affair with plov, the Uzbek rice dish that conquered Central Asia. Like any good plov, Mihman’s hid layers of complexity beneath a deceptively humble façade, with fragrant basmati rice, slivers of sweet carrot cooked until they are almost candied, assertive cumin seeds and chunks of flavorful meat all working together to create one of the more appealing comfort food dishes we know of.

We take the opening of this enticing plov shack (which is located near an excellent Uighur restaurant) as a very good sign for Istanbul’s dining scene, which until recently had been devoid of good, authentic places serving food from other parts of the wider region surrounding Turkey, particularly east of the border. Considering how many Uzbeks, Uighurs, Iranians and others call Istanbul home, we’ve always found it a bit strange that it’s very hard to find any restaurants serving food that caters to them.

Much has been made recently about Turkey’s possible drift eastwards. We don’t like to comment on political matters here, but when it comes to culinary ones, we say: drift, baby, drift.

Address: Gençtürk Cad. No. 65, Fatih
Telephone: 212-526-0803
Web: www.mihman.com.tr

(photo by Yigal Schleifer)

We’ll never know for certain, but we do know that finding a plate of well-made manti in Istanbul can sometimes be as tough as finding authentic ravioli. Which is why we were very excited to be introduced to Gönül Abla (“Big Sister Gönül” in Turkish), a heavenly manti spot in the leafy Asian side neighborhood of Moda.

Owing to its rustic roots, manti is a rather humble dish (yet one that packs a surprising amount of flavor).  To make the dumplings, an elastic dough is rolled out thin and cut into long strips, from which little pockets of dough filled with minced lamb and onion mixture are made and then dunked in a pot of gently boiling water for a few minutes. When ready, the steaming little dough packets are topped with garlic-infused yogurt, creating a very pleasing combination of hot and cool.

So, why go potentially out of your way to Moda, and then to Gönül Abla for dumplings?  Well, first of all if you’re coming from the European side you have the pleasure of the ferry crossing and a pleasant walk along the seashore to Moda. Then, of course, there’s the manti itself. Most restaurants in Istanbul prepare their manti in advance in the morning, just boiling it up as required. At Gönül Abla, on the other hand, they make it to order, mixing the filling, rolling the dough and cooking it up right there and then.  In short, you’re going out of your way to have probably the freshest handmade manti you’ll find in Istanbul. (The restaurant also serves up other traditional home style dishes as well. The köfte was marvelous, and the çiğ börek, a kind of fried meat pastie, is also worth a mention.)

Like manti itself, Gönül Abla – with its handful of tables and low-key setting – is humble and unassuming, but packs a mighty punch.

Address: Bostan Sokak No: 50, Moda, Istanbul
Telephone: 0216-336-1947

(This guest post was written by Jonathan Lewis, an Istanbul-based photojournalist.Photo by Jonathan Lewis)

Turks and Uighurs share a linguistic bond, and many in Turkey romantically think of the Uighurs as the “original” Turks. But the two people also share a strong culinary bond, with Uighur cooking providing perhaps a blueprint of what “original” Turkish cooking might have tasted like. Where the classic Turkish kitchen reflects a mix various regional influences (Aegean, Middle Eastern, Balkan) and the highfalutin tastes of the Ottoman court, Uighur cooking retains the simplicity of what were originally a nomadic people. So simple, in fact, that the menu at  DTVAE is basically limited to three items – and two of them are different takes on manti, the traditional Turkish dumpling.

The restaurant’s centerpiece dish is lagman, a main staple of Uighur cooking, which is made from handmade noodles that are boiled and served along with a stir-fry of beef, onions and green peppers. On a recent visit to DTVAE, the head-scarved cook was busy in the kitchen rolling out long strips of lagman, which somewhat resemble udon noodles. In another room, an older man was methodically stuffing small pockets of dough with a ground meat mixture to make one of the restaurant’s manti dishes. Boiled and then topped with yogurt and red pepper flakes, the manti was delicious, putting most of the other versions found around town — which seem to favor dough over filling —  to shame. The restaurant’s other manti dish – a much larger dough pocket stuffed with a meat/onion mixture and which reminded us of a Chinese soup dumpling – was also very nice, especially when eaten with a schmear of the oily, red pepper paste that we found in a jar on the table.

DTVAE has a few outside tables, where you can eat under the shade of three massive maple trees, and a handful of tables inside. The restaurant – a peaceful oasis located on a side street not far from the grand Suleymaniye Mosque – is connected to a Uighur cultural center housed inside the medresa, and on a recent visit, the place was plastered with copies of articles from the Turkish press reporting about the recent ethnic violence in Xinjiang, in which some 200 Uighurs and Han Chinese died. Nearby us sat small groups of Uighur men chatting and slurping up their lagman along with bowls of steaming green tea, transported back, as we were, to East Turkistan.

Address: Dedeefendi Cad. No: 4, Eminonu
Telephone: 212-512-6406

(photo by Yigal Schleifer)

In eastern Turkey, a lamb is consumed literally from head to tail, with hardly any part of the animal going uncooked. One of the specialties from the region, particularly in the area around the picturesque city of Mardin, is kaburga – breast of lamb – a cut akin to short ribs that often ends up in the scrap heap in other parts of the world. Over at Kaburga Sofrası in Aksaray (the restaurant also has two other locations: one in the Şişli area and another in Laleli, a district near the Grand Bazaar), an Istanbul neighborhood filled with cheap hotels, seedy internet cafés and a surprising amount of good restaurants, kaburga is given the royal treatment, stuffed with peppery rice and slow cooked for some eight hours, until the meat turns meltingly tender.

Despite its rib shack wooden façade and slightly grungy surroundings, Kaburga Sofrası tries to spiff things up, with cloth napkins on the tables and piano music playing over the sound system. The presentation of the kaburga, meanwhile, is done with a flourish: a waiter brings it to the table on a large platter covered with a silver dome, delivering it to another waiter who then takes over, de-boning the steaming, tender meat and shredding it into bite-size morsels. Along with the flavorful iç pilav – the rice that was stuffed and cooked inside the ribs – the kaburga is served with a side of rice mixed with fresh parsley and roasted almonds, which offer a crunchy contrast to the soft meat.

Of course, lamb also appears in other forms on the menu. In the icli köfte, ground meat, sautéed onion, parsley and spices that are stuffed into a bulgur wheat shell and then poached to make a very large and tasty dumpling. Mumbar, another specialty from the Mardin area, is lamb intestine stuffed with ground meat, rice and mint (and frankly, something whose rubbery funk we’ve never warmed up to, as much as we’ve tried). In the excellent and earthy guveç, cubes of lamb, eggplant, tomatoes and green pepper are slowly cooked in a clay pot until all of the ingredients become soft as butter and almost meld together.

To make things easy, dessert is limited to one choice: a kind of helva made out of sweetened semolina studded with pine nuts and served warm. It’s quite tasty, but chances are that by this point you’ll be feeling as stuffed as a, well, lamb.

Address: Sekerci Sokak No: 8, Aksaray (note: there are plans to close this
location, so please call ahead)
Halaskargazi Caddesi No: 252/4, Şişli
Fevziye Caddesi No:1, Laleli

Telephone: 212-532-7373 (Aksaray)
212-225-9595 (Şişli)
212-520-1515 (Laleli)

Web: www.kaburgasofrasi.com.tr

According to our Turkish-English dictionary, the word “Çerkez” means “Circassian,” but in our book it is synonymous with “delicious.” As evidence, look no further than Fıccın, a friendly restaurant serving the unique cuisine from the mountains of the Caucasus. Many a Turk trace their roots to this culinary Xanadu, including the folks over at Fıccın, who have put together a Turco-Circassian menu that includes specialties from both kitchens.

Cold chicken and walnut spread (Çerkez tavuk), found on many Turkish menus, is here a bit richer and redolent with red pepper and garlic. Tulen, an aromatic chicken soup is an unusual surprise in a country so loyal to the lentil. Shreds of chicken lace the thick slow-cooked stock, whose garlicky essence travels with the steam nose-ward, a whiff of ecstasy.

The Çerkez take on the dumpling is similar to a pierogi, filled with meat or potatoes and served in a bath of yogurt and light red pepper oil. Though the menu describes the restaurant’s namesake dish, fıccın, as Circassian borek, this is not the little flaky pastry sold throughout Turkey. In this case, savory, almost cake-like dough is layered over fragrant ground meat, and then baked like a pizza. One slice of fıccın is best shared among the table.

Unfortunately, the Çerkez dishes on the menu stop here. On the other hand, Fıccın’s Turkish standards – though found on the menus of numerous other restaurants – are particularly well made. Notable among them is the sublime karnıyarık, baked eggplant stuffed with peppers, onions, minced meat and tomatoes.

Though open for dinner, Fıccın thrives on its bustling lunch scene when its three dining rooms and clusters of outdoor tables fill quickly. Turnover is quick, but be sure to come early or you might miss the daily specials.

Address: Kallavi Sok. No:13/1 – 7/1 Beyoğlu Phone: (212) 243 83 53 www.ficcin.com

From Western China all the way to Istanbul, Turkic people roll out dough, fold it into small pouches, boil it and call it mantı. When it comes to dumplings, Turkish tradition dictates that the tortellini-like mantı be no larger than peanut-sized. With its unusually large (and sometimes fried) dumplings, Bodrum Mantı & Café has taken traditional Turkish mantı to soaring new heights of which we strongly approve.

Don’t be put off by the modish décor, the dour bow-tied waiters or the high street address; this is the real article. This 24-hour Arnavutköy staple with a Bosphorus view never fails to serve it up hot, fast, good and cheap. The icli köfte – boiled or fried bulgur and ground meat football-shaped patties – is always made to order, unlike many oil-soaked renditions found around town. Stick a fork in the ciğ börek and watch, or, better yet, smell, the hot airy pocket pastry deflate in an aromatic whoosh, revealing a light filling of ground meat. Like the mantı, these appetizers come jumbo; so be forewarned.

The mantı is offered in a few varieties – whole wheat or white dough, boiled or fried. When fried, we couldn’t discern the wheat from the white dough, but in boiled form the whole wheat offered a pleasant change. Ordering half portions allowed us to try many combinations of fillings and toppings.

The piece de resistance, temel feriye mantı, is fried just enough for the thin shell to crisp up and the stuffing of spinach, onions and cheese to meld nicely without being greasy.  This mantı even holds up well under a generous topping of garlic yogurt sauce. Supermantı, indeed.

Address: 1. Cadde 111, Arnavutköy
Phone: 212 263 2918
www.bodrummantı.com