June 27, 2017

Kadikoy, Istanbul. June, 2007

I wanted to go to Asia. Easier than it sounds, actually, given that Nick and I were in Istanbul and ready to board one of the many cross-Bosphorus ferries on our first full day in the City of the World’s Desire. Sailing the fabled waterway was a thrill in itself as I thought of the history that had transpired on this very spot. Kingdoms come and gone, intrigues that resulted in empires, sultans and emperors welcomed or slain. My first foot onto the Asian continent was marked with appropriate ceremony and then Nick and I headed off in search of Çiya, a restaurant with true Anatolian cuisine that I had been reading about. Actually Çiya is three restaurants, all of them located within a stone’s throw of each other on this shadowy street not far from the docks. We settled in at Çiya Sofrasi and then let our waiter “John Travolta” (whose limited English just about matched our Turkish) bring us whatever he recommended. It was a fine introduction to the high level of cooking we would find throughout our ten days on both the European and Asian halves of this magical city. And, happily, we would return to Çiya again before those days were up.

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