The outside perception of Turkish food is that it's all very much the same. I agree partially, in that the ingredients are always from the same Ye old 10 faithful: tomatoes, peppers, pepper paste, garlic, yogurt, beans and (insert your favourite one here, you will be absolutely right ; and this is the new interactive style of food blogging).
So some days it can be hard to write an enthusiastic blog entry for a site solely dedicated to Turkish food. However, there is this regional pride that can be found in whatever city you are going. Prior to visiting any place, I do my research. Of course on the sightseeing opportunities, check my maps, accommodation and how to get there. But every single time I also google "CITY yemekleri". More interactive reading at this point, and a little activity before we continue: Try this with any Turkish city you care to think of, and you will find a website dedicated to the delicacies of that particular place. I had been in Kars for a few days already, not able to find any gourmand's page-turner. Sure, I treated myself to the local goose, almost a must. Goose is pretty rare in Turkey. I used to be no fan of it, every childhood Christmas ruined by this oversized bird being pulled out of the oven on the 25.12 - the magic already fading once that Advent-feeling fell off somewhat, and long anticipated presents had been unwrapped. But perhaps age turned me again, or the lack of German dumplings (that I so detest). Instead, here goose is served with slices of fresh onion and tomatoes, side meze and of course flatbread. I particularly enjoyed the slathering of butter and grated Kars cheese that came together with the freshly-baked bread. If I'm honest, it stole the show of the actual main dish. The goose was delicately cooked, the flesh a deep purple colour, not to the well-killed desiccated state that is customary in my native Germany. It was all very nicely done and presented, but I wouldn't want to go back a second time, especially given the high cost of goose. Or perhaps I was just in a particularly expensive place, one of Tripadvisor's 3-dollar sign places.
Bozbaş
The next day I walked past a little family dinery. I had noticed the Tava a few times before, the flat, slightly domed pan, in which cubes of meat were being cooked. Tava kebab was just the starlet from the front window, but upon entering I was greeted by many stainless steel tubs of unknown foods. An elder gentleman greeted me warmly. He was so happy to answer my questions, going through all the concoctions, ladling out samples to show me the ingredients. Many old familiar friends, of course, Kurufasulye (beans), minced meat dishes - nothing I can't find in Istanbul. A tray of metal cups caught my attention. Is this local?, I asked. Yes, it is. Cubes of meat, chickpeas ... The colour and presentation intrigued me. It was to be this: Bozbaş. I agreed to a plate of rice too, his upselling skills very finely honed. When served, they brought a little basket of flatbread. I first wanted to reject it. Both the elder gentleman and the cooker usta stood near my table, and said something I didn't understand. So they helped along, rolling the two breads tightly, then plucking them to pieces into a soup bowl. Finally the oil and liquid was drained from the aluminium cup, poured over the bread. This was a meal to my heart's content. Exactly something my Bavarian farmer family would have done. The now-drained mix of meat and chickpeas were tipped into a second plate. I was ready to go. It may have been 'same same' for many people - the usual consistency of güvec, Turkish casserole. But it was fragrant, very reminiscent of Iranian food cooked by my friend. Indeed, when I saw recipes and photos of Patatesli Erişte Pilavı, it looks exactly like something that I've seen many times from various Iranian friends. I guess, Kars is a lot closer to Tabriz, then say.... Ankara, to explain the resemblance to other cuisines.
This Bozbaş definitely had that extra 'Kars twist'. Slightly yellow, I guessed turmeric. The staff were all happy with my obvious interest in the food. Plus it was an otherwise slow day in this restaurant. So it was revealed, it contains saffron - I'm guessing the cheaper 'fake' variety, as it had a slightly turmeric-like by-taste, ever so pleasant. The meat was quite oily in parts, otherwise cooked to a tender softness. It was a wonderful meal to eat while outside Kars was being quietly covered in a white snow blanket, and a biting cold gripping the city.
On researching this food, I found that it is also a dish of Azerbaijan, Armenia (no surprise, given where we were), and Georgia. Also logical. Kars has seen so many wars, attempts to conquer, to bully, besiege and re-capture. It was torn and tossed between empire s and kingdoms. And here is this wonderful food that is cooked, eaten, enjoyed here and yonder. If food could unite us, like a flag could, if it could define who we are - like a common language, city, county or country boundaries - surely any artificial lines drawn into sand would simply cease to exist. Here would be the people of the Bozbaş. It's probably prudent to return, and travel the extra few kilometres across the border (that is actually not open, one must approach via Georgia). I want to sit on the other side of this invisible cold curtain, and find the same dish again. It might mean that I write an addendum to this article. It would be a most wonderful mission.
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AuthorInnate curiosity, learned (discovered) deep love and appreciation for Turkey, a bit of time at my hands, and always hungry: voila, a food blogger! Archives
September 2019
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