Not that there’s anything wrong with the food here, which is reliably well made. The meze tray at Inciralti (which means “under the fig tree” in Turkish) is brought to your table carrying all the classics, plus a few welcome and tasty surprises, such as the zingy brined twigs of the caper plant and a sea bass filet that had been cured in a piquant sauce redolent of curry. Among the excellent mains we had sea bass again, this time grilled wrapped inside grape vine leaves, and meltingly soft uykuluk (sweetbreads), that were also grilled and dusted with oregano and red pepper. Both were winners.

But it’s Inciralti’s location that will have us coming back, especially if we’re looking for an opportunity to take an excursion without leaving Istanbul. Located on the Bosphorus’s Asian side, Beylerbeyi is a like a miniature and untouristed version of the more popular Ortakoy neighborhood on the European side, mercifully free of the tchotchke vendors and crowds that today line Ortakoy’s narrow streets. Stepping off the evening ferry from Eminonu at Beylerbeyi’s old wooden one-room ferry terminal feels a bit like stepping back in time. There are few Bosphorus-side neighborhoods that have managed to keep their unpretentious original charm they way this one has.

Inciralti, meanwhile, is located inside a welcoming old house on a small side street a few steps away from the ferry terminal. In the back there’s a leafy garden (home to the restaurant’s namesake fig tree) that, like Beylerbeyi itself, has a transporting quality to it. On a recent night, we found it to be one of the better places in town to forget about Istanbul’s hustle and bustle and to get away from the city’s summer heat.

(Note: to reach Beylerbeyi, take the Bosphorus commuter ferry that leaves from Eminonu. Check the schedule here: www.ido.com.tr)

Address: Arabacılar Sok. No:4, Beylerbeyi
Telephone: 216-557-6686
Web: www.inciralti.com.tr

(photo by Yigal Schleifer)

But as much as we like looking at the car-free island’s Victorian mansions and visiting its quiet, forested backside, when it comes time to eat on Buyukada, we feel like we’re stuck inside an airport, forced to eat mediocre food at outrageous prices. (Although we very much like the food at Kiyi, a seaside restaurant on the island that we’ve previously recommended, even a casual dinner there ends up costing more than what one would like.)

If a trip to Buyukada is on your agenda this summer, here are two recommendations that have helped us get around the island dining blues:

Club Mavi
Considering you’re on an island, you probably want to eat somewhere with a view of the sea. Most visitors to Buyukada end up getting lured to the row of busy fish restaurants found just beside Buyukada’s ferry terminal. All have seaside terraces with a view of Istanbul’s rapidly developing Asian shore (and of the occasional piece of urban flotsam and jetsam that drifts by) and similar, predictable menus with decently made, but uninspiring food.

A more pleasant (though not cheap) island experience, though, can be had by hailing one of Buyukada’s numerous horse carriages and asking the driver to take you to Club Mavi, a restaurant and hotel located inside a rambling old house on the island’s undeveloped backside. The carriage ride – past many of the island’s grandest mansions and through a scented pine forest – is already part of the fun. And while the restaurant has a menu of fairly typical, though well made, meze and grill items, it more than makes for the lack of any culinary pizzazz with its stunning location: up on a bluff that overlooks a nearby island and the open sea. Particularly at around sunset, the view from Club Mavi’s outdoor tables rivals those you would find on the Greek islands or the Dalmatian coast.

When dinner is done, a carriage driver or two are usually waiting at the restaurant’s gate to take you back to town for a ride under the stars in order to catch the last ferry back to the city. It’s probably one of the best endings to a meal that we know of.

Address: Büyüktur Yolu No: 12, Büyükada
Telephone: (216) 382-6075
Web: clubmavi.com/ada/ada.html

SofrAda Restoran
One of the questions that we frequently ask ourselves during visits to Buyukada is just where do the locals eat? The seaside fish restaurants are too pricey, while even the “budget” places away from the sea are clearly aimed at the tourist trade.

We recently found the answer to our question in the form of SofrAda Restoran, a homey version of an esnaf lokanta, located on a small side street near the aromatic lot where the horse carriages are parked while their drivers wait for rides.

Run by an islander who clearly knows what she’s doing, the restaurant features a large daily menu of prepared dishes, freshly made with a loving touch. After several visits to the restaurant, we’ve grown fond of their vegetables stewed in olive oil – okra and green beans, in particular – and served at room temperature. Everything else that we have had, including their mücver (zucchini fritters, köfte and karniyarik (eggplant stuffed with minced meat), have been very tasty and, unusual for these parts, offered up at mainland prices.

Address: Isa Çelebi Sok. No: 10, Büyükada
Telephone: (216) 382-7639

(Photo by Yigal Schleifer)

With the heat of summer finally descending upon Istanbul in full force, we thought it might be a good time to offer up some suggestions for winning spots to eat outdoors. Here are five of our favorites (plus one bonus entry):

Abracadabra
Although we’ve heard some reports that the kitchen has been slipping, the Bosphorus-side location in the charming Arnavutkoy neighborhood and the funky menu help this fun spot keep its magic. Full review here.

Akin Balik
This spot right on the Golden Horn has a laid back vibe that makes us feel like we’re no longer in the big city but instead relaxing in some seaside village. The fish on offer comes straight from the fish market next door and the beer is served in brown paper bags. What more can we say. Full review here.

Çukur Meyhanesi
Eating outdoors at one of the restaurants on Beyoglu’s side streets is an Istanbul summer classic, although some of those side streets have become too popular for their own good. Çukur, one of our favorite Beyoglu meyhanes, has a wonderful outdoor area that has managed to keep its original charm. Full review here.

DTVAE
This charming Old City restaurant serving excellent Uighur food is located in what may be one of the most enchanting outdoor dining spots in the city: the courtyard 16th-century former medresa (religious school) that is shaded by massive maple trees. Full review here.

Kalpazankaya
One of the great joys of spring and summertime in Istanbul is the chance to get awayfor a day to one of the Princes’ Islands, the car-free and forested archipelago that is a short ferry ride away from the city. The out-of-the-way Kalpazankaya, on Burgaz island, is one of our favorite spots on the islands. Full review here.

Suna’nin Yeri
This small fish restaurant that, with its army of tables, chairs and frazzled waiters, seems to have conquered the waterfront of the Bosphorus-side Kandilli neighborhood, is a favorite spot on Istanbul’s Asian side. Ful review here.

But our mood quickly changed as we made our way past the valet marked “Lucca,” the chic restaurant across the street that was the Ferrari driver’s actual destination, and up the stairs to the simple but stylish Fish. Inside, there was no burly security there to stop us from touching the scaly metal walls, so we gave them a feel as if petting a giant goldfish swimming down to the bar. Upstairs on the terrace, old style filament bulbs and blue awnings are all that adorn the comfortable, quiet dining space.  While the Ferrari-driving types were busy seeing and being seen across the street at Lucca, everyone on the terrace at Fish seemed focused on the food in front of them.

The founders of Fish – the people behind some of the more glam spots around town – are no strangers to the high life. But if their other ventures, the ritzy 360 and Suada, express a Crockett and Tubbs aesthetic, then Fish is channeling Colombo – cool, smart and to the point. Stripped down of the glitz, Fish wins with the food, course after course, the meze in particular

Our meal at Fish began with fresh salty rolls and flatbreads served alongside a sort of tarama-infused butter and a tiny marble mortar that held a single roasted clove of garlic sitting in a bath of olive oil and pesto. The waiter produced an equally tiny pestle, mashed the garlic and left us to it.

The meze selection seemed designed to please a range of Istanbul diners. For the finicky meyhane stalwart there was a wedge of white cheese with melon to go with a duble raki and an excellent fava puree. For the slightly more adventurous, Fish offered interesting spins on meze classics such as a whole artichoke stuffed with rice and mussels served alongside a butter sauce for dipping the leaves. And for those at the table who have seen and eaten it all, there is a world-class fresh catch carpaccio, and roasted kumquat with caramelized onions. We indulged in all of these along with excellent stuffed squash blossoms.

After several skewers of fat, tender octopus legs and a plate of squid stuffed with smoky eggplant puree, there was no tempting us into one of the lovely fresh catches we’d planned to eat that night. The waiter brought over a beast of a turbot and two beautiful sea bass, but in the end, we agreed on a chocolate soufflé and apple baklava.

“Next time,” we promised the waiter and ourselves, but in the three times we’ve eaten at Fish we’ve never managed to save room for fish. Someone at the table suggested they rename the restaurant “Meze,” but we’re sure that the fish are equally stunning. When the bill came – Ay caramba! only $60 per person – we decided we’d definitely be giving Fish another try very soon.

Address: Cevdetpaşa Cd. No: 224, Bebek
Telephone: 212-257-7361

(photo courtesy of Fish)

It was a promise of false hope. Inside that glass-fronted case there were no fish. Nor were there any at the fishmonger next door. Around the corner we found a few measly bream that the vendor admitted, with a shrug, had been raised in a swimming pool. Then, by chance, we happened upon a minivan stuffed to maximum occupancy with swordfish sitting upright in the back like passengers in a dolmus, but it drove off before we could strike a deal.

We’d come to southern Turkey’s Kaş for all the usual diversions – sunken sarcophagi, hot sun, blue sea – but also to test our grill skills on the fishy kings of the Mediterranean. But after a few nights of chicken and köfte we’d come to accept that in seaside Kaş, unfortunately, “Balik yok!” There are no fish.

On our final night, feeling very much at the end of our tether and wondering how one might clean and prepare one of the shaggy goats we’d seen prancing around the peninsula, we broke down and headed for the restaurant-packed Kaş harbor, hungry.

Following a tip, we headed straight for Bahce Balik, a charming fish restaurant with a patio shaded large leafy trees, one street back from the hustlers at the waterfront restaurants.

Before taking a seat, we asked, with a good measure of skepticism, about the fish. “Balik var,” we were told and led over to a glass case packed with all of the big catches of the area. We took a table.

After a round of exceptionally good meze – cabbage leaves stuffed with mussels and fragrant rice, a light curd of mashed fava laced with dill and a plate of beets the color of Barney himself – we had our first taste of the Mediterranean. The grilled octopus we were served looked frighteningly tasty – eight thick tentacles charred up at the tips yet so soft at the center that we cut it with a fork. When asked what the tenderizing secret was, the waiter responded elusively, “People ask us that all of the time.”

After much deliberation, we selected a hefty three and a half pound mercan, Pandora fish, to be grilled for the table.  It arrived split into two large pieces down the middle. A batter-like crust encased the head and clung to the exposed spine where the fish’s fat collected and cooked on the grill. Flaky, tender, juicy and startlingly fresh, this was the fish we’d been waiting to eat. The head released two oyster-sized cheeks of sweet meat, which we lingered over in place of dessert.

After all, we’d found the fish we were pining for and in great abundance.  There was so much fish on the plate that even the cats gathered around our table got a toss.

At 280 TL for a dinner for six, we could hardly do better self-catering, assuming a fish so fine could be found in the market at Kaş. On our next trip to Kaş, we’ll probably leave the grill tongs and lighter fluid at home and rely on the promise that at least at Bahce Balik, “balik var.”

Address: Suleyman Sandikci Sok. 18, Kas
Telephone: 242-836-2779

(photo by Ansel Mullins)

One afternoon at Suna’nin Yeri, a small fish restaurant that, with its army of tables, chairs and frazzled waiters, seems to have conquered the waterfront of the Bosphorus-side Kandilli neighborhood, a small boat from a nation we could not immediately identify pulled up in the wake of a tanker and unloaded two hungry patrons.

A closer look revealed the word “Guernsey” written on the back of the  boat and we wouldn’t be surprised if the couple actually did come all the way from that island in the British Channel. The food at Suna’nin Yeri (“Suna’s Place,” in Turkish) is just that good. The chilled fava bean puree, for example, was so delicious that we immediately ordered two more for a further inspection. Usually not our first pick from the meze tray, Suna had coaxed something smooth and rich, almost custard-like out of the humble fava without abandoning its earthy beany flavor.

A plate of fried calamari was also a pleasant surprise – rough bundles of crispy legs and tiny rings mixed with large, soft flat pieces like a breaded sail. Each bite was a new chapter in texture accompanied by a delicious, tangy garlic sauce. We relished this rare moment – perfectly prepared, fresh food served in an environment that celebrates nothing more than the inherent beauty of the city itself – feeling that this was what a dining experience was inherently supposed to be. It felt specifically Istanbul.

Though big catches such as levrek, çupra and kalkan were tempting, we took the cue from all of the tables around us and ordered a large plate of small fried fish –  hamsi flayed and ribbon-like, istavrit, and, our favorite, tekir.  Each fish played its part with ease, as if Suna had a pep talk with the group before perfectly frying them in her little kitchen. After all that fish and a few rounds of “special cola” (cans of Efes Dark delivered with a wink in a plastic bag and served in Coca-Cola glasses), like real Istanbulites, we wanted more.

Tankers passed by – Romanian, Ukrainian, Lebanese – as the shadows grew long in Kandilli. The crew onboard those ships were likely oblivious to what was transpiring at Suna’nin Yeri, but not the folks from Guernsey. Like us, they were swooning over a plate of homemade baklava prepared by one of the wife of our waiter. We’ll carry that sweet memory with us until our next visit.

Address: Kandilli İskele Caddesi 4-17, Üsküdar
Telephone: (0216) 332 32 41

(photo by Ansel Mullins)

The only downside to an island hop is actually getting there. As soon as spring makes its first appearance in Istanbul, the hordes descend on the mainland’s ferry terminal, filling the boats to beyond capacity (at least on the weekends). With your neighbor’s picnic basket sticking into your ribs, the boat ride to the islands is usually less of a pleasure cruise and something more resembling those scenes in natural disaster or science fiction films where a frantic population is forced to huddle together after barely escaping their city’s demise.

Fortunately, most of the people on the ferry are heading for Heybeliada and Buyukada, the last two stops on its route, allowing you to step off on Burgazada, the smallest and least visited of the Princes’ Islands. The island has few easily accessible beaches and picnic spots, but what it does have is a laid back atmosphere and several charming waterfront restaurants and cafes in the harbor. Better yet, Burgaz is home to Kalpazankaya Restaurant, an out-of-the-way, open-air meyhane on the island’s backside that will quickly help you forget about the crowded mass of humanity left behind on the ferry.

Getting to Kalpazankaya is easy: take the road that leads to the right when leaving the ferry terminal and continue walking along that road for about 30 minutes until it comes to an end. In front of you, sitting in splendid isolation on a hillside overlooking the blue waters of the Marmara Sea and a small pebble beach below, is the restaurant, a collection of vine-shaded terraces with rickety wooden tables and chairs.

The meze tray holds all the classics, plus a few surprises, such as a ceviche made with sea bass tossed in what seemed like a mustard vinaigrette. Kalpazankaya also serves up a wide variety of fresh fish, either grilled or fried, and different types of kebab and meats (including lamb slow roasted in a clay oven, the house specialty). Everything we tried was delicious, the flavor enhanced by the bottle of raki we finished, the tranquil view and the cool breeze blowing in from the sea.

Save for buying an airplane ticket to some remote destination, a meal at Kalpazankaya is the easiest way we can think of really forgetting about city life for a day. That is, at least until you have to take the crowded ferry back.

Address: Burgazada, Istanbul
Telephone: (216) 381-1504
Web: www.kalpazankaya.com

(photo by Yigal Schleifer)

(Editor’s Note: Our celebration of the upcoming May Day workers’ holiday continues. Today we take a look at the dining possibilities at two union halls, Istanbul style.)

Gazeteciler Lokali-Beyoglu: The Write Stuff
Journalists in Turkey are notoriously overworked and underpaid (at least that’s what Turkish journalists will tell you). The part of the story they tend to leave out is the free reign they enjoy over Istanbul’s Journalists’ Union lokal, a classic little dining room and clubhouse with an Ottoman-era fireplace, dark wood wainscoting and a ritzy address right on Istiklal Caddesi. This faded elegance, almost entirely lost in Istanbul, sets the stage for a raucous affair that sometimes resembles dinner and at other times a gypsy wedding celebration. On the weekends, journalists and those-in-the-know pack this place for a long meal accompanied by live music.

The set menu includes a bounty of seasonal cold meze, including artichokes stewed in olive oil, pickled beets and smoked eggplant puree. From the hot starters we recommend the sarma, chard leaves stuffed with ground beef and drizzled with garlicky yogurt.  A fresh green salad leads up to the main course crescendo of meat or fish – take your pick, they are both good.

The food is reliably good and the location is excellent, but we think it’s the price of this all you can eat and drink deal that appeals to the hard luck hack. At 60 Lira, it’s a night out even a Turkish journalist can afford.

Address: Istiklal Caddesi 22, 1^st floor, Beyoglu
Telephone: (212) 292-4167

Metalurji Muhendisligi Lokali: Fish Alchemy
We never thought much about metallurgy as a profession. Nor did the concept of union membership ever seem very appealing, with all the meetings and monthly dues. That all changed after a mighty fine night at the Metallurgist Union’s lokal, where dinner can be a communal affair – during our meal a dish of pickled anchovies was sent over by another table of friendly metallurgists. The simple, fresh food here is always tasty and, as all fans of this place point out, very cheap.

About the food, one regular said, “I don’t go there to eat fancy food. I go there to sit at a table with my friends and eat a heaping plate of fried fish.” That about sums up the dining experience: there’s nothing dainty about it but the place has a convivial spirit that seems to infect the entire room as if someone left the laughing gas running.

A few meze – of which the patlican soslu (fried eggplant cubes in a tomato sauce) was our favorite – a large green salad with shredded cabbage and carrots, a plate of fried “chacha” (pinky-sized bait fish), two orders of unidentified but very good boneless white fish that fried up like a catfish, and enough raki to make us giggly and then sleepy cost 25 TL/person. That’s reason enough, for some, to consider a career change, and union membership.

Address: Taksim Caddesi 14, Taksim
Telephone: No phone

(photo by Yigal Schleifer)

Unlike the fish markets of Beyoglu and Kumkapi, which have grown savvy to the tourist hordes that trample through, that of Samatya – a thoroughly authentic neighborhood by the southwestern edge of Istanbul’s city walls – seems a place frequented mostly by Samatyans. The feeling, upon entering this small plaza of meyhane and fish stands, is that you’ve wandered into the kitchen of a very hospitable, curious family.

That’s the Samatya fish market for you – a sleepy place with small town main street atmosphere ala Turca, where a text message sent from America is a newsworthy event. In this case, it was a way of introduction to the table of foreigners eating plate after plate of grilled sardines so moist and tender that they seemed to liquefy on the tongue.

On one recent Sunday afternoon stroll we’d set Samatya as our destination for this homey village vibe and small streets dotted with Greek and Armenian churches to explore, but we decided to stay because of the hamsi and cold beer on offer at Kuçuk Ev, a corner fish shack with but a handful of tables.

The Black Sea sardines on offer were plump and finger-length; their silver streak capturing our attention like a fishing lure saying “eat me.” The grill man took a handful and dusted them with red pepper flakes and thyme before tossing them on a flattop grill in the kitchen, flipping them quickly and then plating them.

The salad accompanying our hamsi was most notable for it’s dressing of lemon, olive oil and tangy pomegranate molasses, perfectly balancing the sweet/bitter range of rocket greens, carrots, dill, red onions, scallions and carrots.

Six beers and four plates of hamsi came to 70 TL, making this the best deal in town, aside from the fellow next store selling hamsi by the kilo for one measly Lira. But clearly, he was not to be taken seriously.

Address: Kuleli Cad. 46, Samatya, Istanbul
Telephone: (212) 588-5101

(photo by Yigal Schleifer)

This time around, the street’s siren call was Istiridye Balik Lokantasi, an old-fashioned fish restaurant that caters to a lunchtime crowd of local office workers and executives. Karakoy, once a busy port area, remains a mostly commercial zone, with elegant buildings housing shipping and holding companies. The people who come to Istiridye expect the restaurant to serve food whose quality doesn’t vary from day to day, because, it would appear, many of them seem to come here every day.

Istiridye had intrigued us over the years, always walking by but never going in. The entrance, with its dark wooden façade and exuding something of a private club aura, seemed less like a doorway and more like a portal into another time and era. On the other hand, the prices listed on the dry erase board at the front – 20 liras for a swordfish kebab, for example – seemed firmly 21st century.

Nonetheless, the stomach is always stronger than the mind and through Istiridye’s doors we came on a recent lunch break. Inside, we found a rectangular-shaped dining room with dark wood beams supporting a wraparound balcony, looking something like a cross between an Old West Saloon and a Ukrainian village wedding hall. Serious-faced waiters in crimson vests and crisp ties hustled about from table to table.

The menu was basic. A chowder-like fish soup (delicious), green salad and a small assortment of fresh fish, most of them – perhaps so that the busy clientele don’t have to work too hard to eat their lunch – deboned, skewered with green pepper and onion and grilled over coals. We opted for the dil şiş, thin strips of flounder that are rolled up and grilled on a skewer. The fish was superb, the outside of the rolled-up fillets slightly charred and crisp, the inside moist and tender. The table next to us ordered levrek şiş, large chunks of sea bass fillets that were also skewered and grilled, and which also looked very tasty.

We finished our meal off with nothing more than a simple glass of tea, delivered from a nearby teahouse by a worker who dutifully stood at the entrance to Istridye and waited for one of the waiters to take the tray from him, as if he knew that crossing that threshold meant something more than simply entering a restaurant.

Address: Mumhane Cad. No: 24, Karakoy
Telephone: 212-249-1772
Web: www.istiridyebalik.com

(photo by Yigal Schleifer)