Chilli Heaven: Biber Evi, Behramkale

In an old Greek village (Behramkale), on top of a big hill, in the shadow of the ruins of an old temple to Athena sits Biber Evi. Biber Evi, or quite literally Pepper House, is a lovingly restored Ottoman-rustic style hotel-cum-gourmet restaurant. The restaurant serves Turkish food made from uber-fresh ingredients from their kitchen garden. The garden, amongst other things, boasts more varieties of chilli pepper than most people have either heard of or can imagine existing.

Unfortunately, our budget didn’t stretch to both sleeping and eating at this wonderful place. Being far more concerned with food than sleep, we opted for the latter, choosing instead to sleep across the square in the homely (and much cheaper) Dolunay Pansion and pull out all the stops for dinner at Biber Evi.

Now, if you want to eat here you have to pop in two to three hours in advance and arrange your meal. There is no menu, but instead, a serious discussion about what you will have for dinner (impressive), a tour around the kitchen garden (amazing), and complimentary Turkish tea. Those not in the know have turned up here on the spot, thinking that it is an ordinary restaurant and that they can just sit down and order off of the menu, but alas, they have been sorely disappointed.

Having been tempted earlier by the evening’s offerings and knowing what was in store for us, there was a big build up to dinner and a real sense of occasion. For starters was a selection of cold mezzes. These were a trio of vegetable dishes cooked in olive oil, the traditional Turkish way, and featured peppers (of course), leeks, and celeriac respectively. Accompanying these was a basket of freshly baked bread, a selection of four homemade chilli chutneys, and the piece de resistance, a small bowl of freshly smoked assorted chillies from the garden. Oh my Goodness – these babies were hot! I almost burned my tongue off with the Scotch bonnet and habanero.

We got the hostess to pick us some locally produced wine to cool our mouths down and compliment the rest of the meal. Sam chose the swordfish with potatoes, bay, and deep-fried dill (trust me, it works!), while I opted for the slow-cooked lamb, rice pilaf, and chargrilled vegetables. All of this may not sound that exciting, but this stuff is all as good as it gets, believe me. Every bite was savoured, and groans of pleasure could be heard from the diners at the other table, just for confirmation. We ordered another bottle, and finished the meal with the best crème brulee I’ve ever tasted – and I’ve had a lot of bloody crème brulees.

P.S: The welocome and service here is warm, friendly, and every bit as good as the food and surroundings.

Barclay

Troy - if you squint hard enough, you can kind of imagine what it was like...

Don't get on the tourist bus to Troy, get on the dolmuse (minibus) and go through some mad little villages with the locals.

Thanks to some dickhead called Heinrich Schliemann (1822-1890) the ruins at Troy are exactly that - ruined. He was obsessed with finding the Troy of Homeric legend. He religiously studied the Illiad and got permission from the Ottoman Empire to dig for it where he said it was located. He was spot on with the location, but a little messy with the archaeological methods he employed. He basically decimated the site. It subsequently came out that he was more interested in finding the treasures that hid within Troy, rather than the city itself. He found the treasures and they are still housed, rather controversially, in Berlin today.

Anyway, here's a picture of Barclay inside the wooden horse.

Across the Bosphorus

You can take a five hour bus to the town of Cannakale (which is the hop off point for the ruins at Troy and the battlefields of Gallipoli), or you can jump on a boat and sail across the Bosphorus Sea. The latter seemed a lot more romantic. How wrong can you be! Awake at 5, ripped off in a taxi because we were too sleepy to see that he hadn't put the meter on, and sick as a dog because of the sea.

That said, the boat was very comfortable, and I can personally vouch for the cleaniness of the toilets and the sinks (oh yes, there was some hunks of my chunks in the sink - not pretty).

Take a look if you don't believe me; not at the hunks of chunks, but at the general loveliness of the boat.

All of this for only 30 TL (15 squids to you). The ferry takes you to the port of Bandirma, and then you have to jump on a bus to Cannakale.

Cannakale is by no means a bustling metropolis, but we had decided that we wanted to stay in a more peaceful place. We decided on the tiny town of Eceabat, which was over the Dardanelles Strait (yep - another boat). This time it only took 25 minutes to get there. We stopped in this delicious lokanta (workers' cafe) for lunch and didn't realise that there was only a boat an hour to Eceabat. The ferry was just pulling away as we got to the port. I took a picture for prosperity.

Oh well, there was cafe next door selling ice cold Efes, so we wandered over and whiled away an hour.

We were staying in a hotel called The Crowded House Hotel. Yes, it is named after the Antipodean band. Why? I hear you ask. Well, Gallipoli is a kind of pilgrimage for many Aussies and Kiwis. Cannakale is all geared towards it. Most hostels play the film Gallipoli (1981 - starring a young, non Jew-hating Mel Gibson) every night. Barclay also told me that at Petra they play Indiana Jones in the hostels at night. I can't wait for that (as long as it has that little Chinese kid in it - he is mint).

I had a vague idea about Gallipoli, i.e. I knew it was a massive battle in WWI, but I had no idea about the extent of lives lost on the beautiful penninsula. Basically, in 1915, the allied forces tried to knock Turkey out of the war and open a relief route to Russia. To say it turned into a bit of a fiasco is an understatement. 130,000 men died. A third were from the Allied forces and the rest were Turkish. A lot of the Allied forces were British, Australian and New Zealanders, hence why the place has become a bit of a pilgrimage. Although we met one or two British people there, there were definitely more Antipodeans.

Keyif: The Turkish Art of Chilling

Maybe surprisingly, Istanbul has a huge wealth of opportunities for the consumption of alcohol. However, the best place to chill out and socialise with friends in Istanbul is not necessarily down the pub. The numerous cay bahcesi, or tea gardens, throughout Istanbul and the rest of Turkey are the perfect places to escape the madding crowds or the midday heat and relax, drink copious amounts of sweet cay, smoke nargileh (water pipe), play backgammon, and eat snacks such as gosleme, which is a savoury filled pancake perfect for chopping up and sharing at the table.

Locals don’t usually bother with the apple tea often served up to tourists by hopeful carpet salesmen. Instead, most (including us of course) opt for Turkish black tea served sweet in a rather elegant tulip-shaped glass.

Next is the nargileh: the water pipe is brought to your table, filled with the aromatic tobacco (usually apple-flavoured), and hot coals are placed on the top to keep it burning. Each smoker is given their own little mouthpiece so that you don’t have to have any of your mate’s tea-flavoured saliva with your smoke. The trick is to keep it going by not taking too long between each toke, but you don’t smoke it like Chich and Chong; slow and steady wins the race here.

The gosleme are usually prepared by a couple of old ladies in a little booth. One cuts and rolls out the dough, and the other one fills it with your choice of fillings, folds it over, and cooks it on the hot plate. The waiter then slices it up and brings it to your table, and you’re away.

When the pipe dies out, and you know you’ve had far too much tea (use the toilet before you leave, or that will be your next mission!), it’s back onto the frenetic streets of the big city, suitably relaxed and ready for anything!

Barclay

Balik Ekmek Salata: The Istanbul Fish Sandwich

One essential culinary stop on a visit to Istanbul should be to the Eminonu end of the Galata Bridge to join swarms of locals in buying a fish buttie from a boatman at the docks. But this is no ordinary fish buttie, my friend. It is a freshly caught, freshly fried fish fillet stuffed into a quarter of a Turkish loaf, topped with salad, and sprinkled with salt and lemon juice; and all this for less than two quid.

We started our journey on the tram from Sultanahmet to Eminonu, where we disembarked to the sight of the Galata Bridge and a decidedly fishy whiff. We decided to walk over the bridge and back before lunch in order to work up an appetite. It was a Saturday morning, and it was nice to see hoards of hopeful locals dangling their fishing rods into the Bosphorus to catch their dinner. We could have stuffed ourselves silly on the bridge itself, with vendors hawking savoury treats such as simit (Turkish bagel covered in sesame seeds) and roasted chestnuts, but we managed to save ourselves.

We arrived at the fishing boats, and Sam grabbed a table with plastic kiddy-seats at the harbourside while I queued with hoards of hungry punters to get the grub. On a violently rocking boat, the bread dude cuts the loaf and passes it to the dude frying the fish. He stuffs a fillet into the loaf and passes it to salad dude. He stuffs the sarnie with salad, wraps it in paper and passes it to Grandad, who (at the precise moment that the boat rocks your way) swaps the package with the punter for their 4TL.

After eating our tasty bounty, we wandered through Eminonu's famous spice bazaar, and haggled for an assorted box of locum (Turkish delight to you, mate), but that is another finger-licking story.

Barclay

Istanbul

Look who we saw on our second day in Turkey!

I'll let you into a little secret. That man wears a hell of a lot of make-up. Seriously, he was caked in the stuff!

Apart from the odd celeb politian, our time in Istanbul has been spent drinking tea, eating a lot of grilled meat, and trying to bargain with people far more skilled than ourselves! It has been absolutely wonderful.

Here are some of the highlights:

1. As we were walking along one of the main streets in Sultanahmet (Divan Yolu), we suddenly felt the need for some cay (tea). We had been to a couple of touristy places, so as we entered this one place, we thought it would be much of the sameness. How wrong we were! It was 3 times cheaper than the other places and filled with locals having a brew and nargileh (water pipe with apple tobacco). We whiled away a couple of hours and did copious amounts of people watching.

2. Looking at the the Blue Mosque and Aya Sofya in all their glory. They are some of the most amazing structures we have ever seen.

3. Discovering the joy of Efes beer. It is so tasty! Destined to be drank in warmer climates.

Kolsch und Wurst: A Taste of Cologne Beer Halls

Cologne is full of excellent beer halls, and naturally, visiting one of them was at the top of our tick list - beleive it or not, even higher than climbing 900 odd steps to the top of the Dom. These places all serve the local brew, Kolsch. A very refreshing libation, served only in 200ml skinny glasses and washed down with various hearty Rhenish dishes.

Our hall of choice was Schreckenskammer. This choice was based on the facts that it was the nearest to our hostel (in case of emergencies), was off the tourist highway and frequented mostly by locals, and therefore served the best fodder.

We chose two wurst based dishes - well, you have to don't you? One served straight up with mash and saurkraut (not pretty back in the hotel room - someone open a window, please!), and the other in a 'gypsy' sauce. No, I don't think there were actually any gypsies in it, but still, worth every penny.

The beer etiquette in these places is very simple and user friendly, and with true German efficiency, doesn't require you to either get up to go to the bar or call over the waiter. The man comes around with a holder full of ready poured Kolsch glasses, and if yours is empty, he swaps it for a fresh one and chalks up another mark on your beer mat. If and when you don't want any more, you simply put your beer mat on top of the glass. When you want to go, they just tally up the marks on your beer mat and away you go.

After our fill, we walked (not staggered as you may imagine) home feeling refreshed and satiated yet neither hammered nor bloated, and drifted off to sleep feeling proud that we'd experienced the beer hall with and in the style of locals, and left the tourists down in Altstadt (Old Town)to over-indulge British style and do wee-wees in the street.

Barclay