We’re especially fond of the islands in springtime, when their Judas, Mimosa and wild plum trees are starting to bloom and a walk along one of their tranquil trails serves as the perfect cure for the lingering effects of the Istanbul winter blues. Of course, a good meal is essential any time of the year and we’ve been lucky enough to find a few spots on the islands that are worthy destinations in and of themselves. For those planning a visit to the Princes’ Islands, some suggestions below:

Burgazada – Kalpazankaya Restaurant
Burgazada is 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…. (Click here to read the rest of the review)

Heybeliada – Heyamola Ada Lokantasi
The new-offshore-kid-in-town, Heyamola Ada Lokanatasi, is a perfect storm of inspired food, chill ambiance, and small-label Turkish wines, all at ridiculously low prices. Heyamola is reason in and of itself to plan a day trip to the Prince’s Islands, and if you are already organizing your island adventure, this place is a compelling argument for ditching the ferry at Heybeli Island, often overlooked in favor of the more popular Buyukada….(Click here to read the rest of the review)

Buyukada – 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 (but 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…. (Click here to read the rest of this review)

Buyukada – SofrAda
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….(Click here to read the rest of the review)

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)

Dear Istanbul Eats,

Dear Concerned,
Thanks for the great question. Pandeli is indeed a venerable spot and, for a certain generation of visitors to Istanbul, often the first culinary stop made in the city. Which is to say that we haven’t been there in years. In order to answer your question, we asked our resident guest blogger, “Meliz,” to check things out over at Pandeli and come up with strategies for others who plan to visit the restaurant. Her report is below….

Someone mentioned the film Midnight Express to me the other day, and my first (ok, second) thought was hmm, wonder how Pandeli is these days? Let me explain.

When I first arrived in Istanbul, there were two things I used to hear about with some consistency: the film Midnight Express, and the restaurant Pandeli (not due to any connection between the two, mind you). Interestingly, as the years have passed and the city has gussied itself up a bit, one hears about both of these cultural touchstones less and less. I cannot argue that it is a shame that nowadays visitors are thinking more about what events to attend at the Biennial than “Joey, have you ever been… in a Turkish prison?” But I have to say, after a recent visit to Pandeli, after a decade-long hiatus, the place deserves a little revival of interest.

This is not to say that every single item on the menu is earthshaking. Nor that every item on the menu is priced within the average diner’s budget. But, the menu has not changed in a decade, and the things that I recall as special are still consistently so today. And those things are tasty enough to justify a visit if one happens to be skulking around the Spice Bazaar, especially with out-of-town guests. Because, let’s face it: Eminonu holds quite a treasure-trove of street food, but sometimes, after bumping elbows with its teeming masses, even the most inveterate chowhound might crave a linen tablecloth and a bit of quietude.

At Pandeli, as is the case with so many places in Istanbul/the world, you are paying for the ambiance and view. But only to an extent, and as these things go, I for one would rather pony up for Pandeli’s turquoise tiles and 17^th-century domed ceilings than fork over my precious lira for a panoramic city view blocked by grazing socialites. But that’s just me. So how do you ensure that all you pay for the ambiance is the two-lira cover? Let’s get to it.

Be forewarned: the first page of the menu had me breaking a bit of a sweat. At first blush, this appears to be a listing of appetizers priced between 30 and 60 lira each. And it is just that. But the appetizers are not your average meze. And 30-60 lira per portion for things like caviar and smoked bonito is not utterly outrageous. Just sort of outrageous. The list does smack of a funny nostalgia, a sort of executive’s lunch circa 1962, but as Pandeli does not offer martinis or champagne, I would skip it (and insist that no unordered plates of anything stay on the table).

For small plates, Pandeli offers a variety of vegetables cooked either with olive oil or butter – not something you find everywhere. That said, this is not an esnaf lokanta, not really, and while the veggies may be good, they will not be the most beautiful you have ever eaten. Better to go straight for the eggplant salad, a creamy puree of smoky deliciousness. Having said all that, the donerli patlican borek (henceforth DPB), listed as a small plate, is a) a good solid-sized portion, and b) the single best item on the menu. You know how quiche often comes close to perfect, but is held back by an eggy or over-cheesed heaviness? The DPB at Pandeli delivers on the elusive textural promise of quiche. You have a buttery but not lumpen yufka crust at the bottom, on top of which is a baked layer of that amazing eggplant puree, mixed with a subtle amount of kasar, the hard melty cheese of Turkey. There is enough kasar so that the top bakes to crispy perfection, but not so much that the eggplant puree loses its fluffiness. This stuff is darn good, but then, then, they heap on a generous but not gratuitous portion of doner slices. The crispy texture and the meaty flavor of the doner bring the perfect counterbalance to the creaminess of the eggplant borek. And at 10 lira for a portion the size of a Dickens novel, DPB also wins the prize for best deal on the menu.

If you are in for a somewhat more substantial meal, there are a few main courses particularly worth noting: the hunkar begendi (lamb bits over eggplant puree), the kuzu tandir (roasted lamb) and kagitta levrek (sea bass baked in parchment). None of these are cheap, but they are good. The sea bass dish is the single most famous dish at Pandeli, and it is done in a style one would be hard-pressed to find elsewhere. But at 38 lira, this is where one starts to pay for the ‘experience’. For my money, the prices on these main dishes indicate a splurge, but I am not convinced that the dishes themselves warrant that splurge.

Time to hit a sweet note, no?

At Pandeli, you will want to save room for dessert. We went for the sample plate, being the gluttons that we are, and while all the items on the plate were tasty, when I return, I will go straight for the standouts. The kabak tatlisi (stewed pumpkin) is a light, beautifully textured take on a dish I usually find to be a bit too much, like a sugary punch to the solar plexus. Not so at Pandeli, where it has a great texture and a balanced sweetness that allows the pumpkin to flaunt its flavorful self. Pandeli’s sweet specialty is an almond cookie, a bademli kurabiye of the crumbly variety. The spicing is a light touch, and the ground almonds in the cookie are crunchy-licious, great with after-lunch tea or Turkish coffee. The third standout is the kazandibi, and here I am about to get myself into trouble. Let me just say, reading Istanbul Eats was a big part of how I learned to stop worrying and love the Turkish chicken-breast pudding. Now one might even call me a pudding snob (I’m looking at you, Saray). So before whipping yourselves into a frenzy of clucking rage, take a deep breath and hear me out when I say I really like the kazandibi at Pandeli. I fully acknowledge that it is not chewy. It does not fight the spoon. In fact, it is more of a crème brulee texture, a bit custardy. But it is the real deal, the chicken breast was in there. Proof’s in the pudding, so to speak. And, when I head back to Pandeli, I’ll be calling dibs on the kazandibi.

Pandeli is a lovely space (worth reserving a table in the rooms facing outside onto the square), the service is old school and nonintrusive, and offers a quiet refuge from the madding crowds below. In the wild and woolly world of ‘touristed’ restaurants in Istanbul, there is much to be said for consistency, and Pandeli seems to have that down pat, judging by my experiences, decades apart. The place does deserve a visit, both for its pleasantly anachronistic vibe, and its time-tested tasties. I will definitely head back soon, most likely dragging a gaggle of guests shell-shocked by the Eminonu backstreets, for a lunch of their donerli patlican borek, followed by a little sweetness with my coffee. No more, no less. The 2 lira cover thus ends up being very little money, very well spent.

The More You Know… Pandeli is a lunch spot, though they get the busiest around 2 P.M. It is worth making a reservation for a table in the front rooms, though not necessary. To reach the restaurant, one must climb a somewhat daunting staircase. Alcohol is served, but expensive, and selection is not particularly exciting.

Address: Misir Carsisi No. 1 (just inside the main entrance to the Spice Bazaar, door is tucked away on the left)
Phone: (212) 527 39 09
(Open for lunch daily, except for Sundays, when bazaar is closed as well)

(Photo by Yigal Schleifer)

(Editor’s Note: This guest post was written by “Meliz,” an intrepid explorer of Istanbul’s culinary backstreets who would like to keep her anonymity.)

While the Princes’ Islands make for a great escape from the city, it’s been hard to think of them as a culinary destination. Until now. The new-offshore-kid-in-town, Heyamola Ada Lokanatasi, is a perfect storm of inspired food, chill ambiance, and small-label Turkish wines, all at ridiculously low prices. Heyamola is reason in and of itself to plan a day trip to the Prince’s Islands, and if you are already organizing your island adventure, this place is a compelling argument for ditching the ferry at Heybeli Island, often overlooked in favor of the more popular Buyukada. So let’s get to the nitty-gritty…

The meze tray rolls twenty deep, and shifts with the season; during a first visit, in May, the meze selection revolved around the herbs and greens chef Semra Hanim was foraging on-island – a wild fennel sauté and a nettle and black-cumin-seed salad being the two that truly blew my mind.  Semra Hanim ran one of the best places on the Datca Penninsula for years, and she has a genius for innovative takes on Aegean standards. Her partner in the kitchen, Esra Hanim, worked for years at Bi’ Lokma in Kas, and her touch can be tasted in the slow-cooking side of the tray. For example, in the richness of the cevizli kabak (walnut and zucchini) meze and in the exquisite creaminess of the patlican salatasi (eggplant salad) – usually a meze tray workhorse, but here something much, much more profound. The cold meze cost between 7-10tl a portion. If you go for lunch, I recommend that you ask very nicely if Semra and Esra could put together a tasting selection – small portions of each of the day’s meze.

The hot meze are (as always) more expensive than the tray selections (17-21 tl), but again, for what you are getting, the prices are more than fair. We tried the grilled ahtapot (octopus), a perfectly marinated tentacle of octopus driven up from Cunda Island the night before. One rarely finds a place that does octopus like this, let alone does it well – here they nail it. We also tried the sardalya guvec (fresh-caught sardines stuffed with fresh herbs and stewed in a small terracotta dish with lemon). Clean, flavorful, divine. They do a fish soup that is similarly delicate and delicious.

The main courses are a short-list of great uses of fresh fish. We made quick work of a grilled iskorpit (scorpion-fish) kebab, and I would expect to see bonito and red sea bream showing up on the menu, as they come into season! Whee!

Semra and Esra make desserts to suit the season: all I am saying is, save room, people. For the more mature of us, they do a baked smoky Saganaki cheese with a thin cinnamon crust to it…and this brings us to the wine list.

The owner of Heyamola is a well-traveled epicure, and a true gentleman. He also knows his wine. The wines available at Heyamola are primarily from two Turkish lines: Melen and Ganohora, and on both sides of the list, you get to choose from a number of wines that are a) NOT all basically the same and b) NOT much more expensive than they would at your local supermarket (if Turkish supermarkets stocked wine this good). I am not kidding. We had to ask the waiter if the prices listed were for a glass or a bottle. Most bottles are between 30 and 40 tl, with only the tip-top of the line at 70tl – which, I just want to point out, is the usual restaurant charge for a bottle of the Turkish equivalent of Almaden. Again, go ahead and ask for a recommendation or a taste of the ones you find intriguing.

And not that this is the most important thing, but it does seem worth noting that Heyamola is the exception to the rule that exceptional food and cool décor are mutually exclusive. The indoor space is clean and bright; the outdoor space is dotted with bouganvillea and hydrangea, the location is ideal for people-watching and the tables and chairs are sturdy and comfortable, and well-spaced.

In every way that matters, a great spot to spend an extended afternoon that will easily melt into evening and beyond!

Address: Yali Caddesi (on the ‘kordon’), opposite the IDO (hydrofoil ferry) iskele, Heybeliada
Telephone: (216) 351-1111

(Editor’s Note: This post is part of our occasional “Since You Asked…” advice column. We welcome our readers’ questions, so feel free to send any you might have to istanbuleats@gmail.com)

Dear Istanbul Eats: The Asian side’s Korfez was always my very special night out when friends came to town, especially since they had their own boat that would come pick you up on the other side of the Bosphorus. Being swept across the water by private boat was always an impressive start to a reliably excellent meal. Now that Korfez is closed I don’t know what to do. Can you help? Marooned in Mecidiyekoy

We feel your pain. Cruising over to Korfez was certainly one of our favorite Istanbul dining experiences. There are some other options, though. Lacivert, also on the Asian side, offers a boat pickup service, although the food and service are not quite up to Korfez’s standards. Kordon, a very nice restaurant housed in the same Ottoman-era building as the waterfront Sumahan hotel, can arrange for pickup on the hotel’s boat (as long it’s also making a run to collect Sumahan guests).

But we suggest cutting out the middleman and chartering your own boat. There are lots of freelance boatmen looking for business along the shore of the Bebek area, but we’ve had good luck with Kaptan Erdogan, who docks his boat on the Eminonu/Fatih side of the Golden Horn. He can be reached at 90-(0)532-651-0331 and even has his own Facebook page. Expect to pay 80-100 lira per hour for his boat, which accommodates ten comfortably.

Whichever boat you end up with, ask the captain to take you up the Bosphorus to Suna’nin Yeri in Kandili or Ismet Baba in Kuzguncuk. You’ll have excellent food at better prices than the fancier spots along the Bosphorus and you can put the money you saved on dinner into the cost of the boat ride. Happy sailing!

(Editor’s Note: This week, Istanbul Eats hops on the bus and heads west to sample the Thrace region’s most famous köfte in its native environment.  Guest writers Sherri Cohen and Alex Hallowell, Fulbright English Teaching Assistants at Namık Kemal University in Tekirdağ, have run the gust-busting gauntlet to bring you their top choices for Tekirdağ köftesi, the meatballs that have are their namesake town’s claim to fame.)

Although Tekirdağ’s city limits start at the standard blue sign at the edge of town, countless highway-side restaurants and truck stops advertising “meşhur Tekirdağ köftesi” fool the novice traveler into thinking she’s entered the small city of 130,000 long before that.  The lure of the spicy meatball draws visitors far and wide to this hilly seaside town (equally famous for its rakı) about two hours west of Istanbul. Since most home cooks rarely undertake the mixing and spicing process required to make this kind of köfte, it is a dish best eaten out.  The more motivated can buy pre-mixed beef and lamb at a local kasap (butcher) for home grilling, but with multiple köfte shacks beckoning on every street, there’s no need to.  Each köftecisi offers the same lineup (beef meatballs, sometimes mixed with lamb), piyaz (white bean and vegetable salad dressed in oil), çorba (usually lentil soup), and ayran (salty yogurt drink), but too often you’ll end up with a mushy, greasy meatball in a ketchup-y sauce. We’ve been leisurely expanding our waistlines for 4 months in pursuit of the perfect meatball; here are our top choices.

Köfteci İbrahim is the first quality restaurant you’ll see on your way into town.  By night, the towering hilltop building bears more than a passing resemblance to Psycho’s Bates Motel.  Luckily, unlike Mother Bates, İbrahim is alive and well and has been grilling köfte in this warm family spot since 1974. Don’t try to distract him from his duties, though; after a quick nod of acknowledgement, he’ll return to flipping the köfte. Start your meal with the thinner-than-average but satisfying mercimek çorbası, but avoid the piyaz, whose colorful fresh carrots and tomatoes hid a sea of white beans drowning in bland salad oil. The köfte offered a satisfying first bite through a well-grilled exterior; roll it well in the thick red pepper sauce for the full flavor experience. The accompanying plain rice cooled the palate after a spicy bite. Service was prompt, though lacking a bit in warmth. Head here during the summer months, when the outdoor patio overlooking the Sea of Marmara makes up for any meal slip-up; our table by the nearly floor-to-ceiling windows made us long for summer breezes.

We stumbled upon Nefis Tat Kofteci on a cold, snowy Thrace night. We hesitated at first – the restaurant has the unappealing vibe of a fast-food joint, with garish lighting and soda-combo meal deal photos above the dessert case — but we were frozen and they were the first köfte spot with hot soup. The mercimek corbası thawed out our faces with its thick, stick-to-your-ribs pureed lentils, and the piyaz didn’t disappoint. We slowly began to forget the awful weather as a cadre of waiters, with few guests to serve on a Monday night, hovered over our table. We were split on the köfte analysis, though, with one of us rating them only slightly above average and the other raving over the expert grilling and spicy tomato-red pepper sauce. Either way, Nefis Tat was a pleasant respite from the great outdoors, and it’s been serving hungry Tekirdağlis since 1961. Its central location across from Tekirdağ’s city hall and near the main town square add to its curb appeal; visit on a sunny day and see if the meal holds the same magic for you.

Head further into the city center and you’ll likely pass right by Tadim Tavuk Doner ve Köfte  Salonu. The spinning chicken döner, trays of cooling lunch specials in the window, and unassuming storefront do little to differentiate it from other cramped salons and lokantas on the street. But there’s no better place in town to people-watch, and owner Ali will make you feel like an instant member of the lunch crew. He’s been grilling his fresh (never frozen) köfte for 35 years and over that period Tadim’s become a place for city regulars, where everybody knows your name and the butcher shakes your hand after he delivers the midday meat. The young waiter (shouldn’t a 12-year-old be in school?) promptly appeared with the mercimek çorbası, whose wan color and think texture were disappointing. While our suspicions were raised when the piyaz was magically delivered from next door, the lettuce, carrots, and beans were dressed with the fruitiest, lightest olive oil we’ve tasted yet. Ali’s köfte was softer than the norm, and presentation wasn’t his strong point; a half-portion came accompanied only by some salad-from-a-bag. But the leaner, less greasy köfte, when rolled around in the sweet-tasting hot-chili sauce, was perfect when matched with restaurant’s full-bodied homemade ayran, and with pleasant conversation with our neighbors, we kept hoping our lunch break would never end.

Ask Tekirdağ locals for a köfte recommendation and most will unhesitatingly answer, “Özcanlar.”  With three restaurants, a factory, and a butcher shop within Tekirdağ alone, it’s easy to pass its good reputation off to ubiquity. Except we agree: Özcanlar reigns supreme. Bypass the waterfront location and its big-box, overlit impersonal atmosphere for an upstairs table at the cozy city center location. While the mercimek çorbası is better than average, Özcanlar’s piyaz is the real winner: crispy carrots and juicy tomatoes mixed in equal measure with well-marinated, firm white beans; a slice of hard-boiled egg is an unlikely but welcome garnish.  Save room for the full portion of köfte, though. Özcanlar’s meatballs are so expertly spiced only a quick dab in the brilliant, rich red pepper sauce is necessary. But what really makes this location special is the service: from the attentive waiters to the jovial, booming cashier who talked our ear off, we immediately felt like part of the Özcanlar family. It’s the first restaurant we ate at in town and the one we bring our friends and guests to as the Tekirdağ köftesi par excellence. Skip the desserts, though, and head to nearby Sar Patisserie for the town’s most tempting sweets, including Tekirdağ’s famous fluorescent yellow peynir helvası. They’ll have to roll you back to Istanbul afterwards, but it’ll be worth it.

Köfteci İbrahim
Address: Nasrettin Hoca Sk. No: 47, Tekirdağ
Telephone: 0282 293 12 56
Web: www.kofteciibrahim.com.tr

Tadim Tavuk Doner ve Köfte  Salonu
Address: Peştemalet Cd. No: 30, Tekirdağ
Telephone: 0282 260 1015

Nefis Tat Köftecisi
Address: Kolordu Cad. Belediye Iş Merkezi Karşısı, Tekirdağ
Telephone: 0282 264 08 44

Ozcanlar Kofte
Address: Eski Cami Geçidi No: 7, Tekirdağ
Telephone: 0282 260 16 33
www.ozcanlarköfte .com/

Despite this bit of culinary espionage, our initial impressions were not positive. The food served at the restaurant usually failed to pack the flavorful punch that similar dishes had at its competition across the Bosphorus. While meals at Çiya almost always left us marveling at the new flavor sensations we were experiencing, something about the food at Kiva Han left us cold. There was no soul there, something that could not be fixed simply by stealing away Çiya’s staff.

What the restaurant did have – and still does – is a great location, especially when the weather is nice and its outdoor tables offer diners a chance to eat in the shadow of the Galata Tower. Unlike Çiya, Kiva Han serves wine, which makes it an interesting option for those looking for a bit more of a night out.

In the name of fairness, we recently returned to Kiva for lunch to give the place another try. Lucking out with the weather, we were able to get one of the restaurant’s outdoor tables and then made our way inside to choose some food from among Kiva’s numerous prepared dishes, all of which looked very appealing. We ended up an assortment of items based on recipes with intriguing and far-flung regional roots: kofte from the east’s Elazig, sarma (stuffed vine leaves) in a tangy plum sauce from central Anatolia’s Tokat, a moussaka-like ground meat and smoky eggplant dish from southern Turkey’s Antakya, and several other dishes with unknown origins.

Things had clearly improved since the early days, with the Antakyan mousakka and the plum-flavored sarma standing out in particular. While nothing totally wowed us, there was certainly more soul in Kiva Han’s cooking these days. From merely being an imposter, it appears that Kiva Han has worked its way up, although it still has some more work to do before becoming a true contender. The restaurant is a perfectly good choice for a leisurely and enjoyable meal that doesn’t require taking a ferry to the Asian side. But for a truly knockout culinary experience, we still recommend heading over to Çiya.

Address: Galata Kulesi Meydani No: 4, Galata
Telephone: 212-292-9898
Web: galatakivahan.com

(photo by Yigal Schleifer)

(Editor’s Note: Although the new year is already upon us, we had so many memorable Istanbul dining experiences in 2010 that we wanted to take one last look at the past year’s culinary highlights. So, before we get to the work of further exploring Istanbul in 2011, here’s our top 10 bites of 2010.)

For us, the best bites are often the ones that are most reliable. Before we review a restaurant for this site, we try to return several times to make sure that that best bite wasn’t a fluke.

1. Pera Sisore was always a reliable favorite of ours. However, after a shakeup in management we’ve noticed a dip in quality and consistency. Luckily, half of the Sisore team, including the kitchen staff, recently opened a new place in Beyoglu called Hayvore. We are happy to report that all of the Sisore favorites are on offer at Hayvore. Perhaps one of our last bites in 2010, Hayvore is definitely among the best.

2. Just down the street from Hayvore is another standard in our playbook, Cukur Meyhanesi. Excellent meze and fried liver aside, this is always one of the first places we head to when the hamsi, or Black Sea anchovies, start swimming. A plate of these tiny fish — skewered and grilled — help us understand the hamsi mania that envelopes Istanbul every winter.

3. Another unforgettable fish was set before us just last week at the Arnavutkoy favorite Adem Baba. We aren’t sure how many times we’ve eaten sole at Adem Baba — rolled, skewered and grilled with wedges of tomato and peppers, fried or grilled whole — but every time feels like the first time. After a double portion, we considered abandoning Beyoglu for the restaurant’s Bosphorus-side neighborhood just to be able to eat here everyday.

4. Along with the reliable best bites, there were also transcending moments when we felt we’d stumbled on something Bigger than a great meal. Smearing creamy fava puree on toasted bread, munching fried fish and drinking beer from a can dangerously close to the lapping Bosphorus at Sunanin Yeri in Kandilli was certainly one of these moments.

5. The first time we walked into Fatih Karadeniz Pidecisi in Fatih there was such intense pide-worship going on we thought we’d stumbled into the temple of a secret cult. But we were heartily welcomed into the ritual taking place and it was very special. This too was one of those out-of-body best bites.

6. If a few years ago you told us we’d be craving liver for lunch everyday, we would have laughed in your face. But the truth is that we can’t stop thinking about the Arnavut Ciger – aka “Albanian liver,” tiny morsels of calf’s liver that are dusted with flour and red pepper flakes and then fried and served with thin slices of raw onion – at Beyoglu’s Sahin Lokantasi. We really would be eating this dish for lunch seven days a week if it were not for the fact that Sahin – perhaps in an act of kindness to the other restaurants in the area – only serves liver every other day.

7. The Besiktas-based bistro-like Meyhane Sidika was one of our most satisfying finds of the year, with a great out-of-the-way location and lovingly prepared food. One of the restaurant’s meze specialties is a chunky, light green spread that turned out to be an utterly delicious mash made out of feta cheese and chopped pistachios. Nothing fancy – just good, honest food that was completely memorable.

8. In years past, the exceedingly short growing season of loquats always seemed to pass us by, which meant we usually missed our chance to have “Yeni Dunya Kebab” – a springtime specialty made by wrapping pitted loquats around minced meat and then grilling them on a skewer (in the picture above) until the fruit turns tangy and jam-like, serving as a perfect counterpoint to the fatty meat. This year we made a point of catching this unique and delicious kebab’s limited-run at Samatya’s Develi kebab house and we’re already counting the days until the first loquat appears this spring.

9. We’re all for culinary innovation, but there are some things that need little improvement. Take, for example, grilled ribs – a dish that has changed little since our earliest ancestors started putting meat to fire. Over at Taksim’s Zubeyir Ocakbasi, the kaburga – lamb ribs – are the kind of thing that awaken our inner caveman, an unbelievably satisfying mix of meat, fat, smoke and bone that always finds us ordering a second round.

10. There are several good spots to try durum – kebab wrapped in flatbread – around town, but this year we finally had a chance to try Aynen Durum, a superb joint just outside the Grand Bazaar that we had been eyeing for a long time. While the durum there was great, what we truly loved about this microscopic place was the vibe  and the crowd of hungry bazaar locals chowing down with a kind of reckless abandon rarely seen in other places around town.

(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.

Reviewers are often tempted into using metaphors that portray the restaurant as a sacred place — the sushi temple, a t-bone pilgrimage, chili-cheese fry heaven. But in Istanbul’s Moda district on the Asian shore, we’ve found a praiseworthy fish restaurant that could justifiably be described as a shrine – literally.  For more than 50 years, a local Greek family has been serving saints and sinners alike at Koco, a rambling seaside fish house situated atop an ayazma, or sacred spring. There’s meze and fresh grilled fish with raki upstairs, candles and a shot of holy water downstairs.

Judging by the size of the dining room, Koco is preferred by very large groups. One recent weeknight, though, there were just enough customers to fill in the tables lined along the windows. The view of the old Moda ferry dock and the Marmara Sea from the window side of the room is excellent but leaves you leagues from the coat check where the staff hangs on a slow night. The time it took the waiter to make it across the vast restaurant with the meze tray was almost comical.

All worries were washed away once he made it across the room, though. Balancing the heaping wooden tray on the back of a vacant chair, he sorted through the options, “We’ve got eggplant puree charcoaled, very nice brains, you like brains? Lovely beets, beets? Octopus salad, very tender, take the octopus salad.”

We couldn’t resist, and tender it was, sitting in a drizzle of olive oil alongside chopped pickles. If the quality of an octopus is decided by its tenderness, smoke is the factor the patlican salatasi, or eggplant puree. A good dish of this lovely spread should not only smell and taste of the grill but give the impression that its been down there socializing with the charcoal for days, as Koco’s did. Cibes, a large leafy Brussels sprout-like vegetable was the meze trey wild card. Cool, soft and pleasantly coated in garlicky olive oil, this was unlike any Brussels sprouts we’ve had.

But the real pleasure of the meal came in the form of a perfectly grilled lufer, or blue fish. Our fish was so moist and tasty it almost seemed as if it had been doused in butter. But no, it was just a very fresh fish in the hands of a grill man with a lot of practice and the power of prayer behind him. Clearly, whatever blessings were being recited down in the basement must have passed through the grill on their way up to the heavens.

A full spread at Koco with local wine or raki costs about $40 per person. A $2 donation for a candle downstairs in the shrine is optional.

Address:  265 Moda Cad., Moda
Telephone: 216-336-0795

(Photo by Ansel Mullins)