Carpetblogger

Carpetblog Recommends: Nursever Döviz in Karaköy

During my last two weeks in Istanbul, I am taking care of business that would be impossible/too expensive/tortuous to accomplish elsewhere, particularly France. One of those tasks is getting rid of ten years of accumulated world currencies, several of which no longer exist, and which weighed about five pounds. They weren’t coming to France. What to do?

Currency is only useful if you can find someone to give you something of value in exchange for it. There aren’t a lot of takers for a stack of Uzbek Som that’s worth less than two dollars. So what should I do with it? Throw it out? Seems wrong to do, especially the grossly devalued Ukraine Hryvnia, the $2 of which I have probably makes up half of some poor, cold babushka’s pension.

There’s a döviz (currency exchange) in Karaköy, near the ferry terminal. Every time I walk by it, I laugh at the sign in the window, “we take the whole world’s currencies.” They probably just mean Bulgaria's, right? Still, it seemed worthwhile to check it out, just to see if they meant it.

In preparation, I sat down on the floor of my office and made piles. Pakistan. Libya. Afghanistan. South Africa. Qatar. Uganda. I labeled the piles and put coins and bills from about 25 countries in sandwich bags. I was mocked for doing this, by the way.

I filled a small backpack with the sandwich bags full of coins and bills. I swaggered into Nursever Döviz.

“Really? All the world’s currencies?” I asked the two guys behind the window. I smirked.

“Really, all of them.” They smirked back.

I dumped my backpack out on the counter. I handed them the bag of Azeri Manat, an easy one. They scoffed and counted it out. "Of course we take that." OK, so I handed them the Rwanda bag as test. They laughed and counted it out.

They didn’t blink when I gave them bills from Yemen, Saudi, Indonesia, Israel and a stack of Estonian Kroons, which aren’t even used anymore. They made some phone calls, consulted charts and kept a neat list of value in Turkish Lira. The only one they wouldn't take: 1000 Iraqi dinar. Not sure why.

Too be clear, their exchange rate was not generous, but they took a handful of Malaysian coins from me! What else was I going to do with those?

So, taking into consideration that leaving every country with $1- $20 worth of its currency in your wallet deserves some kind of penalty because it's dumb, I am pretty happy with my 108 TL, or about $46. I will buy myself something nice and not share it with my tormentors. They know who they are.

Promising Developments in the Istanbul Food Scene

In the event that an Istanbul expat doesn't want to go out to eat Turkish food -- something that is extremely unlikely because everyone agrees strongly that Turkish food is one of the world's top cuisines and there's no reason to try something different -- options are shockingly limited for a city of this size. We have theories about why this is, ranging from the conservative Turkish palate to a dearth of non-Anatolian immigrants, but several recent developments have given us hope that options for quality, creative, international dining and drinking here are increasing.

First, we will broker no counter-argument to the assertion that Efes is poison and is the worst beer ever.  Back in the day, we used to like beer a great deal and drank it frequently, particularly the Pacific Northwest microbrew variety which was conveniently available at multiple locations near our front door. Since moving to Istanbul, we have stopped drinking beer in protest at the awfulness of Efes and had forgotten how nice a good beer can be.

Barriers to doing something different and well here are notoriously high. So when we heard about the opening of the Bosphorus Brewing Company, we were cautiously optimistic, but also a bit skeptical. Other brewpubs have come and gone and no one missed them because they were expensive and not very good. But we're willing to try new things, even if doing so requires leaving Beyoğlu, physically dragging our companion out the door and paying for dinner.

BBC receives the highly-sought after, unqualified Carpetblog Stamp of Approval. Other people can comment on the authenticity of its brewed on-site English ales or the legitimacy of its gastropub atmosphere, but we liked everything about it. They have five beers on tap right now (but have the capacity for 10) and we tried them all. We ate almost the entire bar menu (memo to self: next time don't offer to buy). Nothing was wanting. Early rumors suggested it was expensive but it was no more per person than a mediocre mezze night in Beyoğlu-- the primary difference being ample, DELICIOUS BEER. And anyway, if you want cheap beer, go to Istiklal and drink Efes.

Phillip and Jill, the friendly British proprietors promised all kinds of appealing innovations -- like frequent drinker cards, tastings, growlers and kegs (pause, for a moment, to imagine how a keg of Hops and Glory positioned on the balkon next summer will improve your outlook on life). Our companion quibbled about stupid shit that does not even bear repeating, but we have no complaints other than the fact we can't walk there. We hope it becomes the friendly expat hangout that doesn't really exist here. Go support them tonight.

Second development: Culinarist is the project of a Dutch and Turk foodie team and is hosting regular "open table" dinners at a space in Cihangir. In the interest of full disclosure, we haven't actually gone to an open table dinner yet, but we plan to and not knowing anything about something has never before stopped us from offering an opinion about it. The menus offer creative international dishes with a "Turkish twist." Their Thanksgiving menu this weekend includes crostini with smoked mackarel in a dressing of homemade mayonaise, apple and chives and ravioli filled with spinach and Turkish ricotta in butter-sage sauce, all of which sound like things we would consume with enthusiasm.

We have, however, participated in a Culinarist Turkish wine tasting evening which was delightful. It was enjoyable not because the wine was good (it was, after all, Turkish wine), but because Jotham is knowledgeable and we had an interesting discussion about why Turkish wine isn't very good and why it tastes the way it does (there are good reasons, it turns out). It was also a useful primer for folks new to wine tasting. So, go to those events and support local efforts to do something different well.

Third! Wine tasting at the Four Seasons Sultanahmet on Friday nights. This is the best deal in town. For 45 TL you get to try four flights of not necessarily Turkish wines (we tried Italian wines one night, Turkish another night -- some of which were good -- and a different night they offered sparkling wines). They also put out an impressive cheese spread -- mostly good-quality Turkish varieties and a few imports. We don't typically think first of the Four Seasons when seeking a Friday night wine drinking bargain, but this is a good deal.

Photo by Ansel Mullins

 

Fourth! Istanbul Eats and IOM sponsored Migrant Kitchen last week for which Liberian, Cameroonian and Ethiopian cooks living in Istanbul prepared and served a typical lunch. Although we missed two of the three lunches, the Ethiopian chef, in particular, received rave reviews. Sadly, this was a temporary exhibition but we hope it encourages immigrant chefs to establish more formal operations to serve both their homesick compatriots and expats tired of kofte. Istanbul's growing community of Africans, while transient and not well-off, might be the best hope for the development of a more international dining scene in this giant overwhelmingly Turkish city. As always, count on Istanbul Eats to keep you up to speed on developments in this area.

 

 

Carpetblog Recommends: Georgian and Korean in Istanbul

Among our favorite hobbies here at Carpetblog is ranting about Istanbul's lack of ethnic restaurants. After years of listening to easily disputable claims of Istanbul being a diverse, cosmopolitan city (we've got all kinds of Anatolian emigrants!), we are pleased report that two outstanding establishments form the backbone of the very, very slim body of non-Turkish food here.

Both are well off the traditional Lebanese/Indian/Mexican/Pakistani/Thai/Chinese axis* taken for granted in any North American or European city with a population of more than 100,000. Istanbul still has none in that category that can serve a passibly authentic meal at a reasonable price (or at any price, really).

NEWS FLASH: CAFE EURO IS CLOSED NOW! :(   The first is Cafe Euro, a bus station Georgian hole-in-the-wall in Aksaray which has already been praised on these pages and others and most recently, here.  That this place has been around for six years and we only discovered it last summer is one of our biggest failings as an expat. The excellence of its khingali as well as the authenticity of its post-Soviet atmosphere have since been verified by multiple Bakuvitsi. Ingredients are delivered from Kutaisi weekly, but unlike other writers, we're not going to blabber away about what day that happens. You should go on Saturday.

They've got homemade chacha, and, if the planets are aligned, tarkhun (don't let them talk you into trying that other florescent green liquid instead -- it's vile). The other big failing of the Eurasia review is that the reporter failed to inquire about deliveries of the forbidden meat. He has since been sent to a re-education camp.

The menu is neither extensive nor available in written form and it helps a lot if you speak Russian (or Georgian), but this is the real thing. It's cheap, cheap too; we have been told you can sit there all afternoon drinking and eating for about 30TL. Go there, preferably with someone who knows Georgian food and how to wield a knife. You'll make new friends who will share village wine from a jug and you'll leave smelling like a post-Soviet bus station. The owner's money quote from the Eurasianet review: "not all my customers are like you.”

Cafe Euro is at the entrance of a giant bus station in Aksaray. You didn't know there was one? Well, there is. It's called Emniyet Garaji and it's on Küçuk Langa Cad. Google it. You can walk there from the Aksaray or Yusufpaşa tram stops.

The second winner is Gaya Korean restaurant. It, too, has been around for awhile but has recently experienced an inexplicable surge in popularity among Carpetblogger's contemporaries. Indeed, of the only two really delicious meals we have eaten lately that were not served in a bus station, both were at Gaya.

Of all major Asian cuisines, we're least familiar with Korean so we don't really know the names of things. But, based on the noodles that look like glassy eels and the fuzzy spicy pickled leaves, we're going to guess the ingredients are imported from the motherland and prepared with love by a Korean mother for her only son. Most importantly, there's pork, cooked right there on the table in front of you (Is this the only non-pizza restaurant in Istanbul where you can order the forbidden meat? Discuss). We will go back there often, specifically to eat the spicy tofu. 

Most of the other diners in its rather sterile and empty space are either Korean businessmen or post-Soviet prostitutes, which we view as vote of confidence. It's not particularly cheap (60-70TL for a giant set meal, including pork and maybe an Efes or two) but it's more than you can eat and it's delicious. The service is friendly but not exactly attentive. Don't be in a hurry.

Gaya is near Taksim, on Abdulhak Hamit Caddesi, No. 50, in the Green Park Hotel.

 *Please, spare yourself the indignity of arguing there is a credible example of any of these cuisines in Istanbul. We know them all.

Caretblog Recommends: Istanbul Eats Walking Tours

Frankly, it's not that hard to obtain the Carpetblog stamp of approval. We're not out to diminish our own brand or anything, but really, with a few exceptions taken on moral grounds, we'll shill for almost all of our friends.

Indeed, we have in the past shilled for Istanbul Eats, not just out of affection for its founders, but because it is the best guide to eating in this city. We use it all the time (IE recs got us to try current faves Datli Maya and Mohti) and recommend it to everyone.

We have also always recommended IE's culinary walking tours, even though we had never taken one, or, until very recently, known anyone who had. That's how important our credibility is.

But after dear friends visiting from San Francisco last month raved about the tour and promptly signed up to do a second one, we thought maybe we had been missing out on something important and fun. In fact, we were more than a little embarassed when walking around town with them, sharing all our greatest insights about the mysteries of the city such as the difference between dana and koyun işkembe, they said, "oh yes, our guide Angelis already told us that."

So when Carpetblog's Kosovo Korrespondent suggested we do a Festivus Day tour, led by that Greek Angelis Nannos who really made us look bad to our guests, we said, "well, ok."

Have you ever visited your friend in Istanbul and noticed that she doesn't really know anything about the city and seems to be making shit up, or takes you to the places closest to her apartment? Well, Angelis isn't like that. He's your cool friend in Istanbul who really does know good places in unlikely neighborhoods and loves to show them to you with great enthusiasm. Who knows? Maybe he can be your new friend in Istanbul. Other people seem to like him.

Would you travel across town for a doner? We sure as hell wouldn't, not before visting a hole-in-the-wall döner place in the back streets Küçükpazar (you don't even know where that is, do you?), where the dönerci marinates real lamb meat in onion juice overnight and alternates layers of meat and vegetables. Do you think a pide is just beyaz peynir and sucuk toasted on some dough? Try adding Black Sea magic village butter to the crust at a place in Fatıh that, to some skepticism, claims to be the first Pideci in Istanbul. Do you think Turkish Delight is gross? Well it is, but you might find some that's at least not made of rubber in the back streets of Eminönü. Have you tried kokoreç? After five years in Istanbul, we finally did and it's not as bad as we expected. That white matter at the tip of the knife in the photo? Suet. Yum.

This is just a long way of saying that Carpetblog stands by our endorsement of Istanbul Eats' Culinary Walking Tours and has forgiven Angelis for making us look dumb to our visitors. Also, we know from reliable sources that IE's Meghan gives excellent tours as well, even though we haven't been on hers.

And, as long as we're sharing love, we haven't shilled for Istanbul Personal Shopper in a long time. Like IE's food tours, Kathy takes visitors to parts of the Grand Bazaar people who have lived here for years don't know about. The best part? Your visitors will love the tour and you won't have to go to the Grand Bazaar. Everyone wins!

If we were in the FSU, we would pull out our stamp and stamp our approval on both.

Carpetblogger Recommends: Avoid Mixed Gender Hamams

We are big hamam fans. We like the ghetto hamam in Çukurcuma, the hot spring hamams in Bursa and the touristy ones in Sultanahmet a great deal. All these hamams vary in size, luxury and committment to cleanliness but they all have one thıng in common: They're all single-sex.

And you know what? We like them that way. It's always awkward being naked in public when you don't speak the language, so even all-women hamams can be traumatic. For example, you never know if you're supposed to be completely naked or not. (Carpetblogger's Rule of Thumb for Hamam Nudity: Men, never, unless it's one of "those" hamams. However, it's our understanding that most non-tourist hamams are "those" hamams, so you may want to verify this information before heading to, say, Firuzağa Hamam. You know what? To be on the safe side, just use your pestemel and forget we brought the whole issue up. We have no idea what we're talking about. Women: Tourist hamam, underwear on. Non-tourist hamam, underwear optional. If in doubt, do what what the enormous Turkish tazes (aunties) are doing. YOU'RE WELCOME.)

We visited Termal, a small resort village near Yalova for some badly needed R&R. The whole region is known for its hot springs so there are all kinds of little (and big) resorts between Yalova and Bursa. There are trees, also, which are always nice. Birds, too. The one we visited was a newish-built shrine to Turkish secularism, with a Ataturk Museum on the grounds and a nightly floor show. Upper middle-class retirees soaked in the hot pools to cure their eczema or their rheumatism or their drop down stones. They were friendly!

Termal is famous for having won the coveted "World's Most Healing Water" contest in 1911. It is deserved! We swam in the hot pools and won at cards and drank tea and felt quite healed after. We ought to have left the healing at that.

We admit to pre-existing hesitation when we heard about the mixed-gender wet hamam on the grounds of the resort. We know these things exist, but usually only in resorts or tourist areas of Istanbul. Who goes to these? The whole idea seems contrary to the traditional purpose of a hamam. Furthermore, we do not want to electively look at potbellied Turkish men naked. Therefore, our general rule has always been "avoid mixed gender hamans because they are too weird."

We violated this rule. Entering the haman with great caution, one plastic flipflop at a time, we ("we" being Carpetblogger and Mademoiselle Istanbul) left plenty of opportunity for one of the idle men to shout, "Abla, wait! That's the men's side!" No one did.

In fact, quite the opposite. The old guy at the desk told us to buyurun ourselves right in the door. Unhelpful Taras Bulba served as the worst advance team ever, going in ahead of us and returning with the assurance that there were "lots" in there.

By "lots" he meant lots of men floating in the hot pools, splayed on the marble göbek like hairy sea lions and panting in the super hot sauna. We fled in horror to the "family room" which is typically a room in small town restaurants to which unaccompanied women and families are led to protect them from the prying eyes of single men. Two men mid-scrub in the family room gave us a friendly wave.  Yavaş, yavaş, we backed out.

At this point, it is worth pointing out that none of these men in the hamam were nekkid (nor, to be clear, were we, OK?). Had they been, writing this blog post would be impossible because OH MY GOD MY EYES! 

It was bad enough that Taras Bulba made us sit for five minutes with him, and five other men, in the incredibly hot steam room, which could not have been more uncomfortable for anyone if we had been on fire. Actually, it could have been more uncomfortable: if, instead of Turks, the men had been the Saudis we had seen milling around the resort (Termal is huge among Saudis, but we were told they're mostly gay. We can't decide if that makes things better or worse). Also, if Taras Bulba had said at the outset, "O, yah, there are a lot of women in there and they're naked, so feel free" that would have been worse, too.

So, while Carpetblogger can recommend goofy Termal for a brief excursion, we strongly advise you avoid the mixed gender hamam there. We live to serve as an example to others.