skinny girls & mayonnaise

It is a noteworthy thing when, having gone your entire life never meeting anyone named “Mehmet,” you meet two at the same time. Of course, it is less remarkable if you are in Turkey — as we were — were every third guy is named “Mehmet.” (The Turkish version of “Mohammed.”)

Cats in the Grand Bazaar

It was more than a decade ago, in the seaside town of Kusadasi, to be precise. Our honeymoon — a friend with a cruise line that I did a lot of work with had arranged the gift of a voyage through Italy, Croatia, the Greek Isles and Turkey. On a day in port, we had gone to see the ruins of the ancient Greek city of Ephesus, and were en route back to our ship when we stopped in a bar for a beer and a bite to eat.

It was a narrow alley of the type they only have in that part of the world, where you must navigate through stalls selling carpets, ouds and sazs, glass lanterns (with genies inside, perhaps), and the vendors who are very insistent that you need each of these things. Business was slow at the bar, and the two Mehmets were in a festive mood. They motioned us cheerfully in, and we spent the better part of the next four hours sitting there, drinking beer and eating snacks, and hearing all about their friendship and their lives, watching them play practical jokes on one another. They were very interested in California, so we shared about our lives. We left as the day faded, hugging our new friends and exchanging email addresses with promises (unkept) to keep in touch.

Foraging for wild figs at Ephesus

That was late August, 2001. Our introduction to the Islamic world — ironically, just a couple weeks before we would be stranded in Nova Scotia trying to get home from Paris on a flight through D.C. the morning of September 11 — had been wonderfully warm, enriching and exciting.

During our brief time in Turkey — the day in Kusadasi with the two Mehmets and a couple days in Istanbul — we ate many good meals, and gained an appreciation for Turkish cooking. I’ve often said that everything edible on the Mediterranean between Greece and Morocco is simply a variation on a theme — parsley salads, skewered and grilled meats, eggplant and hummus, etc. But this is an oversimplification. And there was a definite personality to the food we experienced in Turkey.

Swarthy Turk preparing our lunch

It was not in Kusadasi but elsewhere — in a quiet little alleyway eatery in the center of the famously bustling Grand Bazaar in Istanbul, in fact — that we ate what would be my favorite dish we had there. I don’t know what the dish was called — I pointed at it, and was served. It consisted of long cooked eggplant flavored with tomato and a red pepper of some kind, a more exotic eastern ratatouille of sorts. It came with slices of french baguette. While we ate, two feral kittens hopped in and out of the shadows, surprising one another.

I have made the dish several times in the intervening years — sometimes as part of a Turkish meal, sometimes just a huge batch to keep in the fridge and snack on. I’m still not sure what it’s called, although a bit of web research led me to “şakşuka”, a meze (appetizer) that seemed close to what I remember. (Say it with me: shahk-SHOO-kah) The recipe below is my version, as I remember it from the Grand Bazaar in Istanbul.

Lunch in the Grand Bazaar

Meanwhile, back in Kusadasi… Here’s to our friends, the two Mehmets, wherever they may be now.

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Şakşuka
serves 4 – 8

1 large eggplant, cut into cubes
1 onion, chopped
4 large cloves garlic, crushed
2 ripe tomatoes, chopped
1 large medium hot red pepper, seeds and veins removed, cut into strips
1 cup olive oil
1/2 tsp. saffron
salt & pepper to taste

In a large pan or skillet, heat 1/2 cup olive oil over medium heat. Add eggplant, onion and garlic. Cook, stirring occasionally, until they begin to become golden — 5 to 10 minutes. Add tomatoes and pepper, cover and cook for 30 minutes until vegetables begin to break down. Remove cover and continue cooking for 15 more minutes, stirring occasionally.

Add 1/2 cup more olive oil and saffron and stir. Adjust seasoning to taste with salt and pepper. Cook 5 more minutes and remove from heat.

Serve warm or at room temperature with a baguette or loaf of Turkish bread for dipping/scooping.

The harem room at Topkapi Palace, Istanbul (I’m just sayin…)