Where east meets west, food is a communal affair – a feast to provoke conversation. Tastes to share. Portions to negotiate.
‘Is that last piece mine?’ you say.
To which there is only the British answer.
‘You have it.’
In Istanbul would they pounce the same on the last sausage sliver or the slick aubergine, of which there can never be enough?
My Turkish isn’t what it should be.
My restaurant Turkish is just fine:
People-watching, yes, but great company,
so no need for such distractions.
Citrus fresh tomato salsa.
Warmly spiced sausage.
We were as swooning imams!
(if you get my meaning)
the world of words,
books of spooks,
Antarctic freeze, Irish cheese.
Then Turkish coffee:
Blythe scores Yeni Meze
3.5/5 for food
3.5/5 for presentation
3.5/5 for service
3.5/5 for setting
giving an overall 14/20
Today’s questers were: Sara, Blythe
We ate: ezme, sucuk, hummus, falafel, borek, imam bayildi
We drank: water, coffees
We wore: green dress, brown suit
Total bill: £23.80