Adra Writes

I came to Turkey back in August of this year to be with my beloved boyfriend of two years. It had been our longest stretch without seeing each other at over 5 months, and I had been holed up with my family in East TN since March at the time. It had been the longest 5 months of my life. Needless to say, it was time to get out of there and spend some cuddles on the couch without my family asking, “So, what are you doing today,” as if I have a life.

So, I found my ticket, packed my bag, stress vomited about traveling during a pandemic for the 3rd time, and set off for my 19 hour travel day.

Now, this wasn’t my first time coming to Turkey. I made my debut visit back in February before shit hit the fan (for the Western world), and I was meandering back to East TN for what I thought at the time was a “short visit” (how wrong I was). However, that first visit was short-lived and crammed full of finding a new apartment, buying furniture, and rainy days.

This time around I was more excited since all the home preparations had been made, summer weather had set in, and I could enjoy my time by the seaside with my beloved, pretending that the world wasn’t melting. 

Thankfully, my job allows me to work from anywhere at the moment as I teach online, so Monday thru Friday is business as usual, while the evenings and weekends are free to my imagination.

Unfortunately, sightseeing places are closed due to the pandemic, but that is not my favorite part of a new place. For me, it’s all about the food. And Turkish food is absolute heaven.

For most foreigners traveling, one of the biggest things to avoid is food poisoning from bad meats, unclean vegetables, or a slew of other culprits. This I have experienced many many times in my life, especially living in China, and I have even had the privilege of enduring 6 weeks of E.coli as a result of such a mishap in my food choices.

However, with Turkish food, a foreigner never has to worry about such happening because they are so meticulous about fresh foods, meats, and vegetables that are properly prepared.

When going out to restaurants, I am presented with an array of wonderful dishes that I have never experienced before. Such as baba ghanoush, cold fish in a sauce that I still cannot put my finger on, kebabs to your heart’s content, stuffed mussels, summer salads, and roasted eggplant to perfection.

Possibly my favorite meal to prepare or go out for is breakfast. Turkish people take breakfast very seriously, going so far as to have breakfast shops where you can find all your breakfast needs in one place. The local quince jams, dried apricots, cheeses, cured meats, breads, simit, eggs, and sausages. It is truly the most important meal of the day.

But my favorite is the local butcher shop and veggie shop where I can find what is fresh and local to prepare meals with for the week. For me, this is like going to church, a sacred ceremony of choosing only the purest carrots, tomatoes, turnips, greens, pears, plums, and lettuces. My wonderful assistant always standing by my side, pointing and assuring me he also knows the English words and helping me with my Turkish vocabulary.

 Then I walk into the shop, and I am greeted with a long aisle with fresh meats to my right and my smiling butcher. I see baskets of fresh eggs with the occasional spot of chicken poop on the shell (always a good sign for a fresh egg). And on my left, I have made – daily cold dishes and fresh cheeses that stretch the length of the shop. I make my way down, choosing and chatting with the butcher, acquiring my meats, and tasting whatever new sausages he has.

I round the corner marked by the tower of fresh butters and make my way past the barrels of olives and breakfast preserves. I make my last stop by the bakery area where there are always people waiting for their loaves, and I patiently wait my turn. The moment I grasp it, I immediately feel the freshness, and give a nod to the clerk as my “thank you” (since ‘thank you’ in Turkish is unbelievably long and difficult for me to remember).

I exit the shop and head back home to return to the monotonous routine of remote work and staying in quarantine every weekend, as all the businesses are closed. But with every meal I prepare for myself and mine, I am always thankful for the fresh ingredients I use. And with each ingredient that runs out, I carefully prepare my list for my next holy visit.