In the back of Osman’s truck, with the winter sun reflecting off of the Golden Horn just 20 feet from the hitch, the subject of discussion on a recent afternoon was freedom. “Commerce has ruined the free spaces, the nature within this city,” said Osman from behind the counter, located in the back of the covered truck’s cargo area, now converted into a cozy café, with low tables and padded benches. “There’s no pleasure in it!” added Mehmet, whose role here seemed to fall between maitre d’ and mascot. A young man speaking beyond his years, he must have grown up hearing stories of bygone Istanbul when there were woods, shorelines and historic ruins teeming with free spirits and enterprise of all sorts. He stood at the truck’s gate wearing a bright yellow sweater and loudly ordered us a tea from Osman when we stepped into the truck. He swigged at a fat brown bottle of Efes and spoke of this place as his own though.

“At least we are free down here,” he said.

Shanty businesses, like Osman’s, used to crowd the shorelines of Istanbul. Many of the celebrated fish restaurants from Arnavutkoy up to Tarabya started as floating pirate restaurants grilling up the day’s catch rent-free. Then the municipality banned such activity, and these fishermen reluctantly joined society, shifting to land-based businesses.

But down in Karakoy, on that lonely stretch west of the Galata Bridge, the spirit of freedom lives on unhindered in Osman’s truck. “It’s not easy to come down here and tangle with a man’s business,” said Osman, explaining how his business operates. His roots in that very spot go back three generations. His grandfather and father spent their working lives piloting the rough and lovely water taxis that run between here and Eminonu. Quite naturally, the small dock and its environs came to feel like an extension of the family’s living room. But to us, Osman’s truck feels just like the little bar in the finished basement of a beloved uncle – a fully stocked clubhouse.

Most of the time Osman slings cay to the boat captains and beers to Mehmet and his ilk. On one recent afternoon a teenager sat quietly on one of the upholstered benches at the mouth of the truck taking a break from his job at a paint shop around the corner. No cay, no beer. He didn’t pick up the deck of cards on the table nor did he chat. He just sat there and soaked in the afternoon sun for twenty minutes and left without a word. Freedom!

In the summertime, after some renovations are complete on the interior, Osman says anything is possible. He’ll exercise his right to grill fish and serve raki to anyone interested. He’s open to the idea of special events and thinks that there might be film crews coming to film something.

He pooh-poohed the thought of the rumored Galata Port project or other development endeavors that threaten to privatize this area, but didn’t doubt what some people will do for money. “In Istanbul, anything’s possible,” he said.

How true, we thought. In Istanbul, even a cup of tea in the back of a rogue tea truck with a priceless view is still possible.

Address: Golden Horn water taxi dock to Eminonu, Karakoy
No phone

(photo by Ansel Mullins)

This was supposed to be a quick run down to the Karakoy hardware market for a faucet and some sandpaper, but our culinary backstreets antenna, always up, automatically changed the the afternoon’s priorities. So we followed the commotion to a tiny restaurant called Urfa Şark Sofrasi and pulled up a stool outside of this humble kebab shop.

The owner, Saim bey, convinced us to start with kurufasuliye, which was kept warm in a charred clay pot at the front. More famous in the Turkish Northeast and Central Anatolian regions, these beans were done in the Black Sea style with meat and plenty of butter, but also delivering a little extra kick of heat, that we attributed to the place’s link to Urfa, home of the diabolical isot, an oily, almost black dried and crushed red pepper.

Faced with the difficult task of choosing between a list of kebab, we ordered a mixed grill platter that included kanat (chicken wings), patlicanli kebab (minced lamb sheesh interrupted by thick slices of eggplant), and a kebab called haşhaş (pronounced, “hash hash”), which was as intoxicating as the name indicates. The meat was buried under mounds of fresh bread slathered with a spicy rub, rolls of soft lavash and spicy green peppers and tomatoes hot off of the grill. Working our way through the platter we kept seeking out chunks of the particularly crumbly, crispy yet soft sheesh. Finding the last piece hiding under a triangle of lavash, we asked Saim bey what we were eating.

“That’s hashas kebabi, knife-cut beef with lamb fat, super!” he said.

Super indeed, we agreed – even bleat-worthy.

Address: Persembe Pazari Caddesi, Keresteci fazil sokak 4, Karakoy
Telephone: +902122496963

(photo by Ansel Mullins)

After the initial surprise of stumbling on this little meatball shack, we quickly took a seat outside and settled into the rhythm of the hardware market into which it is tucked. Across the street from Cemal’s stands another tiny shop that sells nothing but black rubber washers, from the gauge of a car wheel down to that of a pencil. As we got ready to eat, a man who had been going shop to shop with a thick bolt in his hand asking where he might find more arrived at the restaurant. Hakki bey pointed down the street and slapped his forearm indicating a right turn ahead and watched the man disappear behind a colorful pile of rope coiled up outside of a shop that looked to be perfectly coated in axle grease. This is the stage upon which a typical lunch in the Persembe Pazari plays out.

Any corner tea stand in this market delivers such vistas, but Kofteci Cemal, of course, also has meatballs. Hakki bey hand pats them into loose nuggets, roughly the size and shape of the famous spoonmaker’s diamond in Topkapi Palace. These kofte are a precious commodity around lunchtime, when hungry shopkeepers come over for an order or call Hakki on his phone by the grill. Shot through with parsley and spiced with black pepper, these are a common form of kofte, but fresh off of the grill we found them uncommonly soft and as juicy as kofte can be.

Though lacking the secret sauce that got us hooked on Kofteci Huseyin’s kofte or an outstanding piyaz ala Kofteci Arnavut, Kofteci Cemal is still a destination meatball by our count. The meatballs are well above average, but we see them as an excuse to gain access to Hakki bey and his regulars who seem to have stepped right out of the black and white photos of Ara Guler. And like the long-gone gritty society depicted in those photos, there are rumors that this hardware market may be lost to another great urban transformation, the Golden Horn Marina project. We like to think that this little meatball shop would survive such a radical transformation, but without his regulars – men who wear cover-alls, not top-siders – Hakki is not likely to carry on. But, at least for now, the writing on the wall still says “kofteci”.

Address: Yemenciler Sokak 16, Persembe Pazari, Karakoy

(photo by Ansel Mullins) 

(Editor’s Note: This guest post is by Jennifer Hattam, an American journalist living in Beyoğlu whose personal blog can be found here.)

My first encounters with Turkish fish menus were nothing short of perplexing, and not because levrek (seabass), çupra (seabream), kalkan (turbot), and the like were such unfamiliar names. Spoiled by a steady stream of exotic preparations back home in San Francisco – baked in red curry, encrusted with wasabi peas, topped by green mango salsa, drenched in oniony, mustardy yassa sauce – I had never put much thought to the fish itself.

I’ve come to better appreciate (and more easily identify) fresh fish cooked simply so that its natural flavors shine through, but though I hate to admit it, there’s still something I find a bit yawn-inducing about yet another whole fish with a squirt of lemon, no matter how expertly prepared.

That’s why my eyes went straight to the caramelized levrek on the menu at Lokanta Maya, without even knowing it was a house favorite. And for good reason. The flavors still aren’t flashy, but the hint of sweet orangey goodness in the crispy part of the skin tantalized portions of my taste buds I’d almost forgotten were there.

Jokes about the “two kinds of cheese” in Turkey – white and yellow – are common among the Roquefort-loving expat crowd, but after experiencing what Turkish cheese can taste like when served warm with almond chunks and caramelized onions, I may never complain about beyaz peynir again. My dining companions were equally pleased with their appetizer selections of rich chicken liver pate and mücver (zucchini fritters), lightly fried in a soft batter so the vegetables maintain a satisfyingly stringy texture. A not-outrageously priced Umurbey Sauvignon Blanc topped it all off nicely.

Chef/owner Didem Şenol’s contemporary twist on Turkish fare extends to the dessert menu, where the lemony tang of her crumbly şekerpare added welcome complexity to a dish that can be cloyingly sweet. Refreshing, almost sorbet-like mastic ice cream sandwiched between two wafers of kağıt helva struck a playful note.

Şenol’s focus on local, seasonal ingredients includes some rare on Turkish menus: I’ve seen asparagus so infrequently here that the word for it – kuşkonmaz – was completely unfamiliar. But her food achieves a balance that will satisfy diners’ yens for both tradition and innovation. The atmosphere likewise is stylish – rustic wooden tables, sleek hanging light bulbs – without feeling too posh for its working-class Karaköy location. (Make no mistake, though, this meal will set you back more than a kebab. And reservations are a must even during the week.) The well-trained servers seem happy to speak their excellent English or indulge a foreigner’s not-so-excellent Turkish.

While waiting for my friends to show up for dinner, I browsed through Şenol’s sumptuous cookbook in Turkish and English. Tempted, I nevertheless declined to buy it: There will certainly be another chance on my next visit.

Address: Kemankeş Caddesi No.35/A, Karaköy
Telephone: 0212 252 68 84
Hours: 12pm-5pm, 7pm-11pm; closed Sunday, Monday lunch only

(photo courtesy Lokanta Maya)

But she must have been an exception. On one recent visit to NATO Lokantasi, we were pleased to find the place in high spirits. The wood-paneled dining room was filled to capacity with men in ties, tables overflowing with plates, spent hand wipes, crusts of bread, and panicked waiters trying to manage all of the consumption — a glutinous celebration of freedom’s victory.

You can’t help but join in on the party, because everything served at NATO is simply delicious. Like most esnaf lokantasi (tradesmen’s restaurants), the menu is composed of daily specials such as sautéed seasonal vegetables, a couple of soups and plenty of meat dishes. It’s always best to make your way to the steam table in the back and see what looks good.

We started our meal with a hearty yogurt-based noodle soup called Erzincan corbasi, followed by the old reliable hamsili pilav, a savory baked rice cake topped with anchovy filets, as a bridge to the main course. Undecided between, hunkar begendi, tender roasted chunks of lamb over a creamy puree of eggplant, and a plate of doner, we ordered a half portion of both (just say, “az”).

With such a variety of main courses, it might seem like a waste to order doner, but a good esnaf lokantasi usually serves a high quality doner in thin slices over rice.  NATO’s doner was everything doner should be — not too greasy yet fatty enough to keep the meat moist and flavorful. This is not the “donner kebab” of drunken nights in Dublin. The hunkar begendi was perfectly fine, but, truth be told, the one at Karakoy Lokantasi, just a few blocks away is much better.

Two teas and a rice pudding later, we surveyed our table and those around us. Customs agents, small businessmen, office workers from Bankalar Caddesi — everyone looked sated and happy, as if they’d just closed a big deal. Say what you will about the NATO (the organization), that’s a discussion for another lunch, but most everyone agrees that NATO (the lokanta) is just as relevant today as it was when it first opened in 1952.

Address: Karanlik Sokak 4, Karakoy
Telephone: 212-249-6424

(photo by Ansel Mullins)

(Editor’s Note: As 2010 heads to an end, we are looking back at our “Best Bites” of the year and are asking our readers to do the same and share their best Istanbul eating moments with us. This submission comes from Istanbul denizen Jennifer Hattam.)

In my mind, it’s always chilly when I imagine pulling a white plastic chair up to one of the folding tables set crookedly on the patchy grass leading down to the banks of the Golden Horn, behind the Karaköy fish market. A waiter brings over an extra chair to keep my bag out of the mud while I pull my coat and scarf a little bit tighter around me. Just a few feet away, a fisherman pours oil into his boat’s sputtering engine.

It’s always cold because winter is the time for lightly battered and fried hamsi (anchovies), their pleasingly pungent taste balanced with a squirt of lemon, and for a steaming bowl of creamy fish soup, full of tender chunks of seafood. (The fish sandwich served year-round is pretty damn good too.)

The simple, cheap, and satisfying food seems perfectly matched with the view across the Haliç, a working waterway forever in the shadow of the mighty Bosphorus, but one with humble charms of its own. Fishing lines dangle off the Galata Bridge and small ferries steam across the water to the shores of Eminönü, where the mist-shrouded skyline reflects hundreds of years of history.

(Editor’s Note: As 2010 heads to an end, we are looking back at our “Best Bites” of the year and are asking our readers to do the same and share their best Istanbul eating moments with us. This submission (after the jump) comes from regular reader and Paris travel specialist Sally Peabody, whose recent meal at Karakoy Lokantasi reminded her of some of her favorite bistro lunches in Paris.)

On a cool, grey late-October day a lunch for one at Karakoy Lokantasi was memorable for all the right reasons. I tend to favor soulful sofrasi-type restaurants and love zero-atmosphere-but-delicious-food type places when I’m in Istanbul. So Karakoy Lokantasi was a bit of a revelation. This place feels, in the best sense, like the characterful Paris bistros that I frequent. But of course, it is totally Turkish. It offers a warm welcome, classy bistro-y décor and an easy, convivial vibe. I was seated at a long table next to an animated group of women-friends having lunch and just down from two older men who seemed like easy habitués with their friendly banter and newspapers shared over a post-meal coffee. The china and silverware were attractive, there was good bread on the table and a generous carafe of water.

Best of all was the food. The server, who was gracious and attentive, though we shared little mutual language, rustled me up an English-language menu. The choices were varied and abundantly intriguing. I chose a plate of ‘winter vegetables’ poached in olive oil to start. Delicious. Deeply flavored. Slow food in the best sense. For my main, I devoured the roasted, pureed eggplant with the spiced beef atop the smoky, rich puree. Fabulous. Not exactly hungry but not wanting to stop enjoying this delicious place, I had the beautiful Asure pudding for dessert. Made with grain and topped with pomegranate seeds, pistachios and walnuts this was an attractively lovable dessert. Then, a perfect Illy espresso with a real crema… Heaven.

A chic woman who obviously was managing the resto came over to chat with me. She and her husband own Karakoy Lokantasi. They change the menu daily and work hard to serve dishes from diverseTurkish regions. As she said, ‘we have so many good choices from Turkey’s varied regional cuisines’. Indeed. Their customers, many of whom lunch here every day, wouldn’t have it any other way. Dinner menus offer more mezzes and vary from the lunch menus. There is an obvious standard of quality here that assures a very good moderately priced meal in a restaurant with a hip yet convivial vibe. My tab came to $20.50. Astonishing. All the right ingredients!

A reliable supply of spanking fresh fish helps, but we’ve come to appreciate the man at the helm, Muharrem usta, as the main source of inspiration in this place. In nearly a decade of eating at this humble, laughably cramped restaurant nothing has ever been short of excellent. Incredibly, from the perfectly folded and skewered filets of sole to the way they peel the skin from the tomatoes in the salad, nothing has ever changed. The fingerprint of a real usta is in the details and it is what we come to expect at great restaurants.

For us there are two fish soups in Istanbul. One is at Adem Baba in Arnavutkoy and the other is made by Muharrem usta here at T.K.B. Teeming with tasty chunks of fish, diced potatoes, carrot slivers, bay leaves and lemon, T.K.B.’s balik corbasi is more like a hearty chowder. A simple salad of tomatoes and arugula dressed in rich earthy olive oil got us ready for the main event, fish.

The sea bass in parchment, or kagitta levrek, arrived steaming in its paper vessel, the boneless flesh succulent and tender. A fragrance of tomatoes, peppers and lemon wafted out, the envy of the tiny dining room. A similar effect was created by the dil şiş, plump little fillets of sole that are rolled up and grilled on a skewer and that seem to be channeling a sea scallop with their sweet flesh and creamy texture. There might have been hamsi on the menu or a fresh palamut, but, as far as we are concerned, dil sis and kagitta levrek are Muharrem’s magnum opus so that is what we always order.

A meal at TKB might cost more than most rough and ready fish shacks down here on the docks, but craftsmanship and consistency costs a little extra. Since 1923, T.K.B. has been a Karakoy institution, with Muharrem in the kitchen for more than 20 years, reminding us all of what a master is really meant to be.

Address: Tersane Cad. Kardeşim Sok. No:45/A, Karaköy
Phone: (212) 251-1371
(Monday through Friday, Lunch only)

(photo by Ansel Mullins)

(Editor’s Note: This review of one of our favorite places in town originally appeared on May 4, 2009.)
One of the big downsides to Istanbul’s otherwise great food scene is the lack of a credible Mexican option. We’re not asking for anything special, just a place that serves simple, tasty tacos or burritos. But when the craving for Mexican gets strong, we don’t despair – we just head down to the waterside Karaköy area, home of Besaltı Kirvem Tantuni, a hole-in-the-wall (literally) spot whose food and atmosphere remind us of the tiny taquerias in Mexico and the United states that we miss so much.

As the name implies, Besaltı Kirvem serves up tantuni, one of Turkey’s classic – though shamefully lesser known – street foods. For the dish, thin strips of beef are grilled, somewhat like Mexican carne asada, and kept warm on the side of massive circular pan with a concave depression in the middle. When an order is made, the cook scoops some of the beef up and reheats it in the middle of the pan in a steamy combination of oil and water, creating a thin gravy. In the meantime, he starts warming up a long piece of lavash, a flatbread that is the Turkish equivalent of the tortilla, on the side of the pan, letting the lavash soak up some of the meat’s juices. Once the beef is warmed up, he piles it on top of the lavash – along with tomatoes, sumac-dusted onions, parsley and a combination of spices, including cumin and red pepper – and rolls it up into a long, thin torpedo that’s easy to gobble down in a few quick bites. It’s simple, but delicious, served along with nothing else but a side of hot peppers.

Tantuni originated in Mersin, a city on Turkey’s Mediterranean coast best known for, well, being the birthplace of Tantuni. From there, the dish has gone on to become a street food staple in other parts of the country. In Istanbul, the backstreets of Beyoglu have loads of tantuni shacks that do bustling business, particularly late at night. But we’ve found Besaltı Kirvem, which caters to a lunchtime crowd in the more commercial Karaköy neighborhood, to be in a league of its own. It’s a two for one deal: best tantuni – and, we like to pretend, Mexican – in town.

Address: 35b Mumhane Cad., Karaköy
Telephone: 212-244-0347

(Photo by Ansel Mullins)

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.