...Turkey (Part 3 - Home-cooked Food)



Whirlıng Dervishes in Konya

 Konya is the home of Sufism (a mystical branch of Islam), whirling dervishes and most importantly, Finn's ex-student Emine and her family who let us into their home for a truly unforgettable experience.

Emine had emailed us to tell us to 'come hungry' and so we did. At least we thought we did but their idea of hungry seemed to vastly differ to ours (there's a first) and when we arrived, Emine's mother had laid on a feast for us. The first of many. We ate stuffed aubergine, pilav (rice with chickpeas), dolma and fried cauliflower. And lots more. Meals were spent with the five of us - us, Emine, her mother and brother and sister - sat on the floor around a small table, our laps covered with a large cloth to catch the crumbs.




A feast! The first of many...

 Eating with the family was a communal event and we took bits of whatever we fancied whenever and then filled up on endless cups of tea. At the ninth cup, I declined but Emine's mother was having none of it. It was cold outside and tea would keep me warm. So I drank three more cups. That evening, and every other evening we were there, Emine's mother came out with big bowls of fruit and carrots with knives and vegetable peelers, along with bowls of seeds, nuts and popcorn. Because clearly we hadn't eaten enough already.

We woke the next day to busy sounds in the kitchen and I was ushered in and given a front row seat next to Neslihan, Emine's little sister who was on dictionary duties. I was there to watch their mother prepare her special couscous.


Emine's mother making her special couscous

 With Neslihan's help to translate ingredients, I slowly got a vague recipe. Ingredients included pomegranate molasses (a staple of Turkish cooking), a spicy paste and lemon juice. Rolled into sausage shapes, we ate them wrapped in lettuce leaves for breakfast, once again astonished by Emine's mother's culinary skills. And the amount of food she thought we could eat. We were set up for a fantastic day exploring Konya, and even skipped lunch which is a first of the trip! Cold, hungry and tired, we returned to another amazing meal largely consisting of rice layered with meat and vegetables which we all dug into with spoons.

Emine and a demolished rice cake

 Refuelled, we ventured back out into the cold to watch a performance of whirling dervishes, an incredible and moving experience (if you are interested, Finn has more on it in his blog: tothecaravanserai.blogspot.com). On our return, the bowls of fruit and nuts made a very welcome appearance.

Walking around where they lived, I discovered that neighbourhoods have their own tandoor, a place where people take their dough to be cooked. A small hut is placed over a whole in the ground which is filled with hot coals. The dough is flattened and slapped onto the sides of the tandir and you return later to collect your fresh, hot breads.

A neighbourhood tandir

We debated whether this would work in London but I pointed out that making the dough is the difficult bit and no one could be bothered! Enter the firin. This is the opposite idea to the tandir. Emine's mother was making us etli ekmek, a local dish basically like a pizza with a dough base but with meat, tomato and herbs on top. Emine's mum had made the meat topping and we took it to the firin where they supplied the dough bases, slapped on the topping and cooked it in a stone oven with hot coals in.

Working the firin - from right to left: person who puts the topping on the bread, person who cooks the bread and person who chops it up.

We then debated whether that would work in London but came to the conclusion that you'd probably just go to a pizzeria instead. Never mind.

That evening we picked up the etli ekmek and took it to Emine's great aunt and uncle's house. Again, we sat on the floor eating the pizza along with small jacket potatoes straight from the stove and fresh borek. Our Turkish is very limited (although from this experience we have added words for 'I am full' and 'delicious' to our vocabularies) but eating with the family enabled us to live like them and experience Turkish hospitality. We also learnt how food can replace language when a common language doesn't exist and the importance of dining together and sharing food. We left promising to return one day. There is a lot that we have taken away from this experience. Including a massive bag of olives, etli ekmek and borek that should keep us going for a while...

Us with our Turkish family. And the bowls of fruit.