(Editor’s Note: In almost a decade of intrepid eating in Istanbul, we still miss the immigrant community restaurants we know from the American big cities where language barriers and foreign customs make a lunch into a real adventure. Istanbul has foreign communities and it has foreign restaurants but the two rarely seem to meet. It wasn’t until we visited Zeytinburnu that what we were looking for, Little Uighurstan.)

Thwap. Thwap. Thwap.

“Do you hear that?” asked Sean Roberts, an expert on Uighur culture and politics and our dining companion for the day. “They’re making the lagman.”

As if inspired by the image of a pizza-maker spinning dough on his finger like a basketball and tossing it in the air, lagman-makers have a similar choreography that includes a deep swing, a flip and a smack of the thick braid of noodles. But unlike pizza dough, lagman noodles have escaped mass production; they are handmade by definition. As fat and chewy as udon at certain points and thin like spaghetti at others, a bowl of lagman is full of surprises. The generous topping of sautéed finely-chopped lamb, fresh red and green peppers that came with the suyru lagman (guyru lagman comes with a more chunky variety of the same ragu) was a delicious and spicy change of pace from the milder Turkish palate.

“This is a good lagman. I’m sweating,” said Roberts.

The location of these thwapping noodles was Zeytinburnu, an Istanbul neighborhood that seems almost as far off of the beaten path as the Silk Road oasis of Kashgar. The last stop on the tramway, it’s a busy little district with a pleasant central pedestrian boulevard lined with that particular style of concrete blocks present throughout all Turkish cities, architectural non-sequiturs. At street level on the main drag, it seems this area is all about the trade of leather jackets, much like the shopping streets of Laleli and Aksaray. But look a little closer and you’ll notice banners in Arabic script and blue and white star and crescent flags in upper level windows, an old-timer with a long stringy beard strolling down the main street in a black velvet skull cap with embroidered totems, the signs of a coherent community of people from a place in the west of China described as Eastern Turkistan, the Uighur of Zeytinburnu.

Often idealized in Turkey as the proto-Turks, the Uighur have enjoyed a privileged status since the 1950’s and their community in Zeytinburnu has steadily grown since then. Though it’s increasingly difficult to leave China and enter Turkey these days, newcomers still arrive regularly, like the cook at Turkestani Restaurant, who took our order with a bashful smile and not a word of Turkish.

We visited three Uighur restaurants in Zeytinburnu, sampling the large Uighur-style manti dumplings, somsa, a savory pastry stuffed with lamb and, of course, lagman. The food was all very good, but it was the scene that captured our attention. We were reminded of tight-knit communities in Queens or the West Bank of New Orleans, where restaurants play a key role in cultural preservation. At one spot, Pan-Turkic newspapers were stacked on one table, while the soft lilt of the Uighur language filtered through a privacy screen where a mother fed her children Kashgar kebab and teenagers gathered around a huge flat-screen to watch a Uighur crooner’s concert DVD.  At Ipek Yolu, another of the neighborhood’s restaurants, we even met the director of a local Uighur kindergarten.

In Istanbul, foreign communities rarely settle and thrive the way the Uighur have, so foreign restaurants rarely feel – or taste – authentic. But in Zeytinburnu, rest assured, there is a Uighur at the next table keeping the cook honest. The lagman will be as fresh and tasty as it is in Kashgar. And the noodles will always be audibly handmade.

Turkistan Restaurant
Address: 63 Sokak #5, Zeytinburnu
Telephone: (212) 547-3822

Urumci Lokantasi
Address: 50/5 Sokak #3, Zeytinburnu
Telephone: (212) 665-2813

Ipek Yolu Restaurant
Address: 60^th Sokak 28 (behind Ziraat Bankasi two blocks back, on the right), Zeytinburnu
Telephone: (530) 923-4088

Still, we’ve found good reason to ladle high praise on traditional manti, although we are always on the lookout for some downright diabolical dumplings. The folks over at Emek Manti, in the ritzy Bosphorus-front neighborhood of Yenikoy, answered our call for something different with a menu stuffed with novelty.

Paneled in dark wood wainscoting with walls painted dark green, with something easy to listen to, such as Lionel Ritchie and Simply Red, piped throughout the vast dining room, the place feels more like a “classy” airport bar than a hole-in-the-wall culinary discovery.  But there is something utterly inspiring going on in the kitchen, namely saray manti. At a glance, this dish – made up of strips of dough that have been twisted and then fried – looks like it would be named “Barb’s deep-fried Frito’s with ranch dressing,” something whipped up by a whacky Texas housewife. After a closer inspection however, we came to think of the crispy manti as bowtie pasta – the ground lamb folded into the knot of thin manti ribbons. One whiff of the sauce that was on top of the manti and we knew that it wasn’t ranch dressing but a yogurt sauce liberally laced with garlic. At once crispy and soft, rich in flavor, never dull, here is a manti to get excited about.

Unfortunately, in the world of manti-making street, cred is not earned with zany schemes like the saray manti, however delicious they may be. Tradition demands that a dainty little boiled Kayseri manti no bigger than the fingernail be on offer. Emek’s Kayseri manti was about as traditional as it gets – firm and masterfully folded, the garlicky yogurt and meat-flavored dumplings joined in partnership, not battle, on the palate. Spooning out the last of the yogurt sauce we were shocked to find not one single scrap of shell or dreg of filling – the hallmark of sloppy kitchen work. This Gulser hanim, the founder and chief of the kitchen, has got mad manti-folding skills.

On the way out, we saw someone digging into a bowl of glowing green manti, which, we later discovered, was made from dough run through with spinach. Holy ravioli! We will be coming back for that one soon with the hope of discovering more unusual dumplings on the menu. With a bit more freedom from convention, one day Emek Manti Evi could very well be the first dim sum ala Turca.

Address: Koybasi Caddesi No. 218, Yenikoy, Istanbul
Phone: 212-262-6981

(photo by Ansel Mullins)

You can read the article, which includes several of our favorites (such as Hatay Akdeniz Sofrasi (pictured) and Canim Cigerim) here.

(photo by Yigal Schleifer)

But we’re not quite sure in what category we would place Zinnet, an appealing Central Asian restaurant located deep inside a newly-created park just outside Istanbul’s old city walls. On the one hand, the surprisingly large park that is the restaurant’s home is one of the few green spaces to be found in Istanbul. On the other hand, the park itself is hemmed in by several noisy highways and has a desolate, almost surreal feeling to it – used more by stray dogs than actual people on a recent fall day.

Although called Kultur Parki, the only sign of “culture” that we found was a derelict amphitheater overgrown with weeds. The restaurant itself is located inside a borderline bizarre compound that’s home to a gaily-decorated yurt and several small wooden buildings that act as mini showcases for the various Turkic republics of Central Asia, a kind of pint sized, poor man’s Epcot Center.

Still, we’re suckers for the hearty food of Central Asia – surprisingly hard to find in Istanbul, despite the proximity and strong ethnic bonds to the region – so we hopped on the tram the other day and headed to Zinnet to check things out.

The restaurant, run by a Uighur family from the city of Urumqi in western China, is inside one of the buildings of Kultur Park’s Turkic republic complex and has an airy, slightly upscale feel to it. We were a bit concerned when we first arrived. Like Kultur Parki itself, Zinnet was devoid of any human presence, save for a Kazakh woman who serves as the restaurant’s waitress and hostess. The extensive menu, though, a kind of Silk Road culinary greatest hits collection, was promising. Things started looking up as soon as a small – and very tasty – complimentary salad arrived (along with a group who started watching a Uighur musical on a large television screen mounted on one of the walls). Made of thin slivers of a crunchy vegetable we couldn’t recognize (uncooked potato, it turned out!) that were bathed in a red pepper and sesame oil dressing, the salad packed a flavorful and satisfying punch. A soup called çüçüre, made of a spicy broth that had delicious little tortellini-like meat-filled dumplings floating in it, hit the spot on a chilly day.

Zinnet’s Uighur-style manti, gyoza-sized steamed dumplings filled with roughly-chopped fatty meat and topped with zingy malt vinegar and spicy pepper oil, were outstanding. The fragrant zireli kebap, a stir-fry of beef and onions, had the look of a Chinese dish but the earthy spicing of a Middle Eastern one. We ended our meal with an order of lagman, the hand-made noodle dish that is a Central Asian staple. Although good, the noodles lacked the depth of character of those made by the cook at Dogu Türkistan Vakfi Aş Evi, a no-frills Uighur restaurant we reviewed a few months ago.

With main dishes averaging around 15 lira, Zinnet might seem a bit pricey, at least considering the rustic style of the food. Then again, since the only other way to taste what Zinnet serves would be to book a flight to Tashkent or Kashgar, think of the place as an absolute bargain – with a great location, to boot.

(Note: to get to Zinnet, take the Zeytinburnu-Kabatas tramway and get off at the Topkapi station, just outside the city walls (not near Topkapi Palace). Take the stairs up from the tram station and head north and into Kultur Parki. Look for the collection of small buildings and the yurt straight ahead.)

Address: Turk Dunyasi Kultur Evleri No: 6, Kultur Parki, Topkapi, Istanbul
Phone: 212-567-1077
Web: www.zinnetrestaurant.com

(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)

With the particularly uncatchy name of Dogu Türkistan Vakfi Aş Evi (or East Turkistan Foundation Food House), it’s clear this restaurant is not aiming for mass-market appeal. Rather, the place functions as a kind of public service agency. Located inside the charming and very pleasant courtyard of a 16^th-century former medresa (religious school), Dogu Türkistan Vakfi Aş Evi (DTVAE from here on) serves up hearty dishes for homesick exiled Uighurs, a Muslim Turkic people who hail from western China’s Xinjiang province, or “East Turkistan” as it is known in Turkey.

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)

We usually steer clear of the touristy old city district of Kumkapi, where you are more likely to be accosted by an aggressive maitre d’ trying to corral you into his overpriced fish restaurant than to find something simple, tasty and reasonably priced to eat. Sadly, in order to beat the competition next door, most of Kumkapi’s famed fish restaurants seem to have invested more in aggressive customer corralling tactics than in kitchen talent. However, tucked into the neighborhood’s back streets, we’ve found a few hidden dining gems that locals in the know frequent.
When in the area, we skip Kumkapi’s fish restaurant strip and make a beeline for Doyuran Lokantasi, a serious little eating sanctuary on a nearby side street. The men at the next table might be wearing spackle-crusted work shirts and have measuring tapes on their belts, but they know their food. In most Istanbul neighborhoods, the working class sets the culinary bar, and they set it high. They want it fast, fresh, cheap and as close as possible to their mothers’ recipes. Offering up four or five daily lunch specials, including homemade Turkish dumplings (manti), chickpeas over rice, and an assortment of traditional stews, Doyuran’s husband and wife team answer the working man’s call with ease, the service both professional and homey.

“Bismillah,” said owner/operator Musa Ergenc, calling on the name of God as he cut the first piece of a steaming musaka from a large pan on a recent visit. And heavenly it was upon arrival at the table – the eggplant richly saturated but not too oily. Unlike the Greek version, which is usually topped with a creamy béchamel sauce, the top layer of Doyuran’s musaka consists of a refreshing blast of chopped tomatoes. In order to try as many of the day’s specials we ask for small portions, or “az.”

Ispanak yemeği, a steam table standard of stewed spinach and rice more associated with filling the belly than exciting the senses, here provoked a double take. This didn’t look or taste anything like the heavy, overcooked green mush we’ve become accustomed to elsewhere. This one had a made to order feel, with each flavor presenting itself separately, from the fresh spinach to the light tomato-sauce base. A dollop of yogurt on the side, if requested, thickens the last few bites into something pleasantly spoonable and leaves the dish with a cool finish.

Though Doyuran’s dessert puddings are perfectly passable, around the corner something truly phenomenal awaits to satisfy the sweet tooth. Boris’in Yeri has been keeping Kumkapi’s restaurants and residents stocked with bal/kaymak, a rich buffalo milk cream served under a blanket of honey, for almost a century. And from the looks of the place, little has changed since Boris first opened shop. Old cracked tile floors, marble tables worn from use and a pair of stainless steel coolers the size of Buicks are about the only decor you’ll find here. Like at Doyuran’s, the focus here is on the food, not on trawling for customers. With food this good, they come on their own.

Doyuran Lokantasi
Address: Ordekli Bakkal Sok. 10, Kumkapi
Telephone: 212-458-2637
(lunch only)

Boris’in Yeri
Address: Ordekli Bakkal Sok. 17, Kumkapi
Telephone: 212-517 -2256

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