Hayri Balik
We always feel a bit like a cheating spouse when we walk past our longtime favorite – albeit dry – fish spot, Arnavutkoy’s Adem Baba, toward Hayri Balik, a lovely little fish shack up the street. But sometimes, well after the brunching hour, we like to have something a little stronger than a Fanta with our fish. Any sense of guilt is quickly numbed, though, as we drain a cold beer in the afternoon sun sitting outside of Hayri’s humble dining room…..

Cukur Meyhanesi
Çukur serves up other meyhane classics, such as grilled lamb chops and kofte, but – somewhat unusually – the folks at Çukur  have also figured out how to grill Black Sea sardines, or hamsi! Long considered a lost cause by grill men for its tendency to slip through the grill and into the coals, hamsi is usually fried or baked. At Çukur they’ve thrown caution to the wind and worked about ten of these little squirmy fish onto a skewer and bookended them with tomato and pepper. Hamsi is agreeable in just about any form, but fresh off the grill the fish’s characteristic smack of the Black Sea is even more pronounced….

Furreyya
From the outside, Fürreyya Galata Balıkcısı, a tiny new restaurant in Beyoglu’s quaint Galata area, doesn’t look like much. Two tables, two stools at a short counter, a smoky grill and not much else. But Inside this modest fish shack beats the heart of a more ambitious place. The friendly husband and wife team who own the place and share kitchen duties used to run a restaurant in Istanbul’s upscale Bebek neighborhood, and it’s clear that Fürreyya is in experienced hands….

Kemal’in Yeri
The neon sign in front of Kemal’in Yeri shines like a “Last Chance for Gas” sign seen on the highway before entering the desert. In your rearview mirror are the crowded tourist traps of the Galata Bridge. Ahead lie the shipyards and decrepit chandleries of the Golden Horn. But Kemal’s Place is not only the last place to eat on this stretch of the Golden Horn, it’s one of the last places in all of Beyoglu where you can eat reasonably well on reasonable budget sitting outside beside the water without another hungry soul in sight…..

Mohti Laz Meyhane
“My heart starts pounding when a pregnant lady enters the room,” said Huseyin, the artist turned owner/operator of Mohti, a new “Laz Meyhane” in the back of the backstreets of the Asmalimescit area. While this might sound to some like the unsavory confession of a man with an exotic fetish, to us it was a breath of fresh air, redolent with the old-style charm of a classic meyhane patron, something that’s increasingly harder to come across these days….

Hayvore
The Black Sea area is Turkey’s culinary misfit – not really about kebabs or meze. If anything, the food there seems to have been mysteriously transplanted from the American Deep South. We’re talking corn bread, collard greens and smoky bean stews. It’s simple, filling, down-home food and Hayvore is a great – and affordable – spot to get acquainted with it….

If Adem Baba commands a battery of grillers in its three locations, Hayri Balik is more of a one-man show, the leaky rowboat of fish restaurants. On a recent visit, every few minutes the dining room went dark, raising the blood pressure of Hayri, who stomped over from the kitchen to the switch, located right next to the light for the bathroom, to flip the lights back on. Indeed, without him there could not even be light at Hayri Balik.

Speaking with Hayri we felt certain that he wouldn’t serve anything that he wouldn’t gladly sit down and enjoy himself. And you won’t catch Hayri calling anyone “efendi” or clearing the plates too quickly. If anything, it seems he’s about to sit down and eat with you.

So in Hayri’s hands, we felt comfortable to dig into the forbidden fruit of the Bosphorus straits, midye dolma, or stuffed mussels. Back in Beyoglu’s side streets, huge plates of mussels stacked three deep are ferried around on the head of young boys. Late at night, men crowd around these boys, squeezing lemon on the half shells and shooting the contents back with liquid courage and machismo pushing them along. As tempting as this snack on the go may look, we’ve seen the grim shucking rooms in Tarlabasi basements. There is probably a good reason that the mussel boys flee the scene when a cop turns the corner.

We are careful where we eat our stuffed mussels, but when given the green light, we can really indulge. At Hayri, the medley of rice, currants, pine nuts were informed by the fragrance of the sea, almost within view, and cinnamon. It is an intoxicating bite that wasn’t lost on a cat that prowled our way as the pile of spent shells accumulated at the center of the table.

With another drink we inquired about the fish. Bluefish? Grouper? Sole?

Hayri cut us short with a smile and suggested we have the istavrit, or horse mackerel. He told us that he’d just picked them up from a local boat and they looked great. So we ate the istavrit fried, a fresh little salad with shaved carrots and cabbage on the side.  The sweet flesh of the fish flaked from the bone easily leaving something to toss to the cat. Hayri does have more fish on offer most days but he’ll tell you what to order regardless of what the menu says.

A fling with Hayri cannot challenge our devotion to Adem Baba and the two remain incomparable in our minds. But every so often, when we are feeling frisky, we’ll sneak over for a bit of the Hayri experience, shamelessly.

Address: Satis Meydani 7, Arnavutkoy
Telephone: (212) 263-4875

(photo by Ansel Mullins)

(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, Heybeli Island
Telephone: (216) 351-1111

(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)

(Editor’s Note: In honor of the May Day workers’ holiday, we are rerunning last year’s post that takes a look at the dining possibilities at two union halls, Istanbul style. Happy May 1!)

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)

There was a time when every meyhane around here had a true character at the helm, someone who knew how to work the crowd, comp a drink and indulge in the art of hospitality every night. Now, sadly, as Asmalimescit and other traditional dining zones go upmarket, the only trace of that old school proprietorship is found in yellowed photos on wall.  In this context, Huseyin — a boisterous host in an exceedingly sterile market — is almost as odd a fit as Mohti’s concept: thoroughly home-style Black Sea cooking in a meyhane setting.

Huseyin’s confession was elicited one night recently, when we showed up at his meyhane with a pregnant lady in tow. The plan was to have a quick dinner, but Huseyin (pictured below) wasn’t having that. He wanted to see the pregnant lady moan with delight over multiple courses. So our modest order quickly turned into a Laz tour-de-force featuring nearly every item on the menu and one, which happened to be our favorite of the night, that was prepared for the kitchen staff’s meal.

In previous reviews of Laz restaurants we’ve stated our belief that the Laz are actually a long lost clan from Alabama — hence their affinity for what seems like American-style soul food and fiddle music. And like a true southern diner, the mark of a Black Sea restaurant comes in the breadbasket. If there’s cornbread in that basket, the place is probably legit. At Mohti, the bread offering was set to a higher frequency, with fresh chunks of hamsi ekmek alongside the cornbread. Truth be told, Turkish cornbread can often be a bit dry and dense, but when laced with fresh anchovies, it comes alive, as it did at Mohti. Following the hamsi ekmek came tursu kavurma, a plate of sautéed pickled vegetables, and a Black Sea garden omelette made with kale, leeks, and hamsi filets called kaygana. A skillet of muhlama – a fondue-like dish made out of cheese melted in clarified butter – followed, requiring us to pull and stretch the long glistening strands of cheese which we wound up on a fork as if they were pasta.

And then came the surprise final course in the form of large steaming dumplings. Before Huseyin said the word hinkali, we were already having flashbacks of Georgian feasts we’d enjoyed in Tbilisi, Moscow and Tashkent. Even if dumplings are simple and standard in construction, they always leave a strong impression on us. Dumplings, particularly Georgian ones, have personality and Mohti’s bulky fragrant bundles filled with coarsely ground lamb and stock were supremely evocative of the Caucasus.

Basking in the hinkali afterglow, we should have called it quits but no Black Sea feast is complete without at least one plate of fresh hamsi lightly battered in cornmeal and fried. Ours appeared and were devoured in what seemed like an instant, leading to the arrival of a second order.

The pregnant lady admitted to Huseyin, now sitting at our table, that it was the best hamsi she had ever eaten. He swooned. Pregnant lady excluded, we all had another drink and clinked glasses to the novel concept of a Laz Meyhanesi and to the success of one of Beyoglu’s newest meyhane dons, Huseyin bey.

Address: Orhan Adli Apaydın Sk. No:15/A Kat-2, Asmalımescit
Telephone: 212-249-7181

(photos by Ansel Mullins)

There is not much in the way of farm land, but the Black Sea is blessed with particularly tasty anchovies, or hamsi, that appear in a wide variety if dishes throughout the winter harvest.

What follows is one of our favorite forms of hamsi, hamsili pilav, a savory rice cake cloaked in thin hamsi filets. At Klemuri, a terrific Black Sea restaurant near Taksim, the hamsili pilav, with its currants and pine nuts, is a little dressed up compared with some of the village versions we’ve had, but it is the real deal. This recipe comes straight out of the Laz heartland courtesy of Sevim hanim, the mother of Klemuri’s owner.

Ingredients:

1 kg of fresh, whole anchovies
1.5 cups of white rice
1 large onion, finely chopped
1/3 cup currants
¼ cup pine nuts
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
½ cup chopped dill
Salt
Black pepper

Preparation:
Sautee the pine nuts in the vegetable oil at medium heat, add finely chopped onions and keep cooking until the onions turn golden but still soft. Add the rice and continue cooking for a few minutes. Add the currants, dill, black pepper and salt. Mix well and add enough water to cover mixture. Cook over low heat until the water has cooked off. The mixture is ready when the rice is still a bit “underdone” or “yarim pismis” (half cooked) as Sevim hanim explains.

Debone the anchovies and remove their guts, patting them flat to create mini filets (or, better yet, ask your fish seller to do the deboning for you). Cover the bottom and sides of a well-oiled oven tray or casserole dish with the anchovies. Spread half of the pilav over the anchovies. Add another layer of anchovies on top of the stuffing and then spread the remaining pilav on top of the fish, as if layering a cake. Finally, add one more layer of anchovies. Add enough water to cover the top layer of anchovies. Drizzle a bit of vegetable oil on the surface and bake at 200 degrees Celsius until the water has been completely absorbed by the rice, or about 30 minutes.

To serve, use a sharp knife to score the pilaf’s top into square portions and then use a spatula to take the squares out of the tray.

(photo by Ansel Mullins)

(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: 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.