TURKISH FOOD: Gözleme – a dish of Adaptation, Convenience, and Versatility

Note from Catie: If you have been around here, even for just a little bit, you will notice food is an important part of Turkish culture and the Funk family LOVES food! From Turkish breakfast to the special Ramazan bread, every bit of Turkey and its food revolves around seasons and events. Gözleme is one of the simpler yet filling choices. I like to call it the ‘fast food’ of Turkey.

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The drive-thru is a concept that differentiates American culture from others. Both a perpetuator and reflection of many American values, the drive-thru is nearly synonymous with the idea of fast food. If your restaurant has a drive-thru, it can very easily be categorized as fast-food, and if it doesn’t, it is not.

American’s love for independence, instant gratification, priority of efficiency, and multi-tasking can all be seen in the idea of the drive-thru. 

While I have yet to see a drive-thru in Turkey, fast, convenient food does exist. Of course, there are foreign chains like McDonalds and Dominos serving up American-style burgers, fries, pizza.

However, if you’re looking for Turkish fast food, there are some great comfort food options, one of my favorites being gözleme.

Gözleme is a very thin flatbread stuffed with an array of various toppings. It is extremely versatile and can be found at the kahvaltı table, being sold at the open-air pazar as shoppers bargain for produce and home goods, and even at a sit-down restaurant. Some traditional toppings include cheese and spinach, potatoes and spices, ground beef and onions. However, I’ve also had some delicious dessert gözleme including tahini and sugar, or chocolate.

Depending on region and season, you can find a wide array of fillings for gözleme. If the American drive-thru represents independence, multi-tasking, and instant gratification, the Turkish gözleme displays adaptation, convenience, and versatility. 

I’m convinced that one of the best parts of eating gözleme is watching the women who make it.

It’s incredible to watch the deft fingers gather and roll a small ball of dough into a paper-thin circle, flip it over a broomstick-like rolling pin, cover it with toppings, fold it in half, brush it lightly with oil and flip it over the griddle.

The final product can be sliced up like a quesadilla, rolled up like a dürüm, or served flat on a plate with a slice of lemon. It is endlessly versatile, can adapt to personal taste or to be a part of a meal or snack at any time of the day, and is convenient to take on the go. 

The flatbread itself is very simple: usually an unleavened mix of flour and water. If you visit Turkey, you’ll often see it advertised as a “Turkish pancake,” but don’t be fooled. This flatbread is a distinct food all its own. To me, it is more akin to a very thin flour tortilla: slightly stretchy and quickly giving in to a satisfying tear which is especially lovely with melted cheese stringing between the halves. 

Some argue that the word “gözleme” derives from the root word “göz” meaning “compartment” (or, more commonly, “eye”). The logic is that the inside of the gözleme is like a compartment for the fillings inside. However, the full word “gözleme” in Turkish means “to patrol/to spy/to eye” rather than “to compartmentalize.”

There is, however, another theory that I tend to lean towards.

Other sources argue that the word “gözleme” comes from the word “közleme” which means to barbeque, grill or cook over embers. It’s easy to see where the food got its name, as it is grilled on a large, round griddle. But how did the word “közleme” become “gözleme”? 

Language, like cuisine, is an ever-shifting, -growing, and -adapting entity. One of the things that cause language to shift is ease of pronunciation. In fact, a similar shift from “g” sound to the “k” sound happened in the Proto-Indo-European language in the shift to the Germanic language that eventually became English.

{Ok, I know my language-loving nerd side is showing, but hang with me. (If you want to geek out with me, check out my more detailed explanation at the end of this post.*) }

Over time, languages shift as people pronounce certain consonants differently depending on the sounds that surround them, so that it is easier to say. For example, when I say “blessed,” it sounds like “blesst” unless I emphasize the second “e” and say “blesséd.” A similar thing happens in Turkish, but where English doesn’t change the spelling of our words based on their pronunciation, Turkish does. So, sometimes a “k” in a word like “renk” (the Turkish word for color) becomes a “g” as in “rengi” (“the color of”). This shift makes the words more comfortable to pronounce. The shift from k to g in “közleme” and “gözleme” is not such a stretch after all! This shift is especially noticeable in the accent of those from in and around Ankara, the capitol city of Turkey. Most people from Ankara pronounce their hometown “Angara” and pronounce the “k” sound as a “g” sound. 

Like the shift in its name, gözleme is an example of both adaptation and convenience. As a food that has its humble beginnings as a village food, it’s starting to evolve and make its mark as a part of modern Turkish cuisine. Its versatility means that you can eat a smoked salmon and egg breakfast gözleme, an eggplant gözleme as a snack, and a banana, walnut, and honey dessert gözleme and still have come nowhere near exhausting your options for delicious fillings! 

*A little further explanation for those of you willing to geek out on language with me.

I’ll teach you something I teach my TCK students: to feel where and how words are produced in our mouths and throats. 

In English, we tend to pronounce the same letters differently depending on the circumstances surrounding the letter. We do this in order to make it easier to flow from one sound to another. However, this is not usually denoted in the spelling of a word, which is one reason it’s so hard to learn English. (Some of us are having flashbacks to phonics in elementary school right now.) Try saying the word “bird” out loud. Now say “faked.” Did you hear a difference in the way you pronounced the “d” sounds? 

The “d” in “faked” sounded more like a “t” which is a voiceless, or whispered, sound.  Put your fingers on your throat where your adam’s apple is. Say “d” (not “duh” or “dee”, but try to isolate the sound at the end of “bird”). You should feel your vocal chords hard at work. Now say “t” (not “tuh” or “tee”, the isolated sound at the end of “faked”). You shouldn’t feel your vocal chords moving at all, because “t” is a voiceless sound.

There are several pairs of sounds that are made in the same way with all the same parts of your mouth or throat, the only difference being that one is voiced and one is whispered. Some examples are: d (voiced)/t (whispered), b (voiced)/p (whispered), j (voiced)/ch (whispered), g (voiced)/k (whispered).

Each of those pairs have one voiced and one whispered consonant. In Turkish, the whispered sound is changed to the voiced sound when a vowel is added to the end of a word. There is an exception. Rather than “k” to “g” shift, a “k” that ends a word usually shifts to ğ (the Turkish “soft g”). In Ottoman times, this “soft g” was pronounced in the same part of the throat as “k” and “g,” but these days is often silent or used to lengthen a vowel. So, rather than “köpek” (dog) changing to “köpegi” it changes to “köpeği” (his dog). 

Now tell me:

• Have you ever tried gözleme? If so, what is your favorite filling?
• Do you think the word “gözleme” comes from the word “göz” or “közleme”? Why?
• What imaginative fillings would you put in gözleme that you haven’t seen before?

Share your thoughts in the comments below!

CULTURE: Ramazan Pide ‘Bread is Life’

Note from Catie: Every bit of Turkey and its food revolves around seasons and events. Ramazan is no different! Here in Turkey, there is a special bread made only during the Ramazan, the 30 days of fasting. It is a must have when attending Iftar with locals or even if you aren’t fasting, it’s worth a try.

P.S. – And no, I didn’t spell that wrong. The most common word used is Ramadan but in Turkey, they say Ramazan!

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Imagine having gone an entire day without eating, walking into a busy bakery, and being washed with the smell of the most delicious bread. Toasty, soft, warm and slightly sweet, Ramazan pide is a treat that is available in Turkey only once a year. During the Muslim holy month of daylight fasting called Ramazan (or Ramadan), this special bread is at every bakery, churned out at incredible rates. The almost mundane ritual of the loaves sliding in the oven, out and into glass cases, the question, “how many” and the varying answers is as rhythmic as a heartbeat.  The line moves quickly and efficiently as the pide, still warm, is wrapped in paper and handed over to grateful hands. Everyone rushes home to beat the sunset when friends and family gather to break the fast together. 

Like in other majority-Muslim countries, Turkey has a high respect for bread in general, as it holds an important position in life. Bread represents the ability to feed one’s family. In Turkey, it is as ubiquitous as it is fresh and delicious. Bread is shared around the table at most meals and has a starring role in kahvaltı (check out my blog post about Turkish breakfast here). It is made and bought fresh every day. Since it is made without preservatives, it goes stale quickly. 

But rather than throwing stale bread away (or using it to feed ducks, like my mom would take me to do as a child), Turks share their leftover bread with the less fortunate. If you walk the streets of Turkey long enough, you’ll see bags of bread tied to fences and trees for those who cannot buy the staple for themselves. Even bakeries have systems in which patrons can “pay it forward” by buying an extra loaf to hang up for those who may come in later to ask for free bread. Here in Izmir, there are many who feed the street animals with leftover bread as well. 

The month of Ramazan is a particular time of being generous and charitable for Muslims. People are encouraged to not only fast during daylight hours, but also to be generous toward the poor: two of the five pillars of Islam.

The very structure of Ramazan pide is a reminder of that community of generosity, as it is perforated to be easily torn and shared around the iftar table. Alongside the various Turkish dishes at the table, this bread is a great absorbent of flavorful sauces, a structured vehicle for sandwiches, or (my personal favorite) a treat all its own, slathered in fresh butter. However you eat it, the bread itself is an enduring symbol of sustenance, generosity, life.

Now tell me:

• Have you ever had Ramazan pide?
• Do you have a favorite way to eat it?
• What does bread represent to you? 

Share your thoughts in the comments below!

EX-PAT FOOD: Pork-less Red beans and rice

Note from Catie: While I live in Turkey, I am a born and raised Southern American gal, and specifically to Louisiana! Which makes this blog post especially near and dear to my heart! I grew up on a good bowl of red beans and rice. And well, a good biscuit that melts in my mouth is always appreciated!

This month, I’m creating another adaptation dish! Native to Louisianan cuisine, red beans and rice is a classic dish and a testament to the rich flavors and readily-available ingredients used in the cooking of the bayou. Cajun cuisine is an American mix of countryside French cuisine brought via Canada, African American, Spanish, and Native American influences using the ingredients native to the bayou.

After Hurricane Katrina in 2005, droves of people who were displaced from their homes in Louisiana settled in my hometown: the metro-Atlanta area. Thankfully, they brought their cooking with them. So, although Cajun cuisine isn’t native to my hometown or my parents’, it’s still a style of food that reminds me of childhood and the comfort of gathering with community. 

In this red beans and rice recipe, I incorporate ingredients found here in Izmir. Sucuk (pronounced soo-jook) is a Turkish sausage made from beef. Check out the blog post I wrote last month to learn more about the spices in sucuk, and for another recipe with this flavorful sausage! It makes a great substitute for the delicious andouille sausage usually used to make red beans and rice, and the flavors really complement the Cajun seasonings that go in this dish.

Sometimes, in Turkey it can be hard to find celery, one of the necessary “Holy Trinity” starters for Cajun stews. I have found, however, that if I’m willing to buy a few celery roots (which is the part of the celery sold in markets in Turkey), I can usually piece together enough of the thin stalks left on the root to make up enough to start off my stews. Additionally, depending on what is available, I sometimes use red beans (often called Mexican beans in Turkey) or kidney beans if red beans are unavailable. Both work well in the dish, and you can even mix the two if you’re feeling adventurous!  

I also include a bonus recipe for an adaptation of “done buttered biscuits” that are dangerously easy. Don’t be surprised if you find yourself making them for every meal of the day! I substitute the usual sour cream for yogurt, and add a cup of cheese to the usual recipe. 

The best thing about a hearty dish like this is that it is so simple to make and easy to double and share with a crowd! I doubled this recipe and it fed 8 adults and 6 kids! 

Pork-less Red Beans and Rice

Ingredients:

• 1 Tbsp olive oil
• 1 link of Sucuk, thinly sliced
• 2 (16 ounce) cans red beans
• 3 cups chicken broth
• 2-3 Celery stalks
• 1 Green bell pepper
• 1 Yellow Onion
• 3 cloves Garlic
• 1 Bay leaf
• 2 tbsp Parsley, fresh
• 1/4 tsp Sage, ground
• 1 Tbsp Paprika
• 1 Tsp Oregano
• 1 Tsp Cumin
• Salt, to taste
• Black pepper, to taste
• Red pepper flakes, to taste
• Tabasco sauce, to taste
• 1 cup white rice

Directions:

1. Prepare the rice as normal, with two cups water. Boil, cover, reduce heat to low and let cook for 20 minutes. Remove from heat, keeping rice covered as it’s set aside. 
2. As rice is cooking, heat olive oil over medium heat in Dutch oven or large stockpot.
3. Add in the sucuk until it starts to brown.
4. Add in chopped onion, green bell pepper, and celery. Cook 5 minutes until they start to soften.
5. Add in garlic and spices, stir and cook until fragrant. 
6. Pour in chicken broth and red beans. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat to low. Simmer covered for 15 minutes. 
7. Remove lid and let the stew reduce, mashing some of the beans to help thicken. Add tabasco sauce, and add salt and pepper to taste.
8. Serve over rice with done buttered biscuit. Garnish with fresh parsley.

BONUS: Cheesy, Done Buttered Biscuits

Ingredients: 

• 113 grams butter, melted
• 1 cup yogurt, plain
• 2 cups Bisquick mix (recipe below)
• 1 cup shredded cheese of your choice (I used kaşar)

Directions:

Bisquick Mix Ingredients:

• 6 cups all-purpose flour, sifted
• 3 Tbsp. baking powder
• 1 Tbsp salt
• ½ cup butter, cold cut in cubes

Directions:

Now tell me:

• Have you ever updated a recipe you grew up with based on what’s available where you live now?
• What’s a dish you grew up eating that didn’t originate in your hometown?
• Have you tried this red beans and rice recipe?
• How did it turn out for you?

Share your thoughts in the comments below!

FOOD: Wintertime Cabbage, Sucuk, + Potato Fry

Note from Catie: I recently tried out this recipe and loved it! Hardy but also light! We only had sweet potatoes on hand (which we pay crazy extra for in Turkey) and the recipe was just at delicious! You can always add your own extra toppings or maybe even some sesame seeds like we did! Awesome job Nia on another great recipe!

It’s March; daffodils pop up persistently through the cold earth to remind us, despite the chilly winds, that spring will return, that it’s just around the corner. If you’re in the Northern Hemisphere, maybe, like me, you’re tired of the cold weather, tired of the process of bundling up every time you go out the door, and maybe even tired of the same soups and stews you’ve been making through the winter.  When I still want something hearty and warm on a blustery March evening, this fry is an easy and filling meal I can whip up on a weeknight and is surprisingly good reheated. It’s adapted from an Irish dish, so it’s a great option for a St. Patrick’s Day dinner on the 17^th! 

The biggest difference in this recipe from the Irish version is the replacement of “bangers” with sucuk (“soo-jook”), a fermented Turkish sausage made from beef that is full of flavor. You will find sucuk at any butcher’s shop in Turkey with it’s delicious mix of cayenne pepper, garlic, sumac, cumin, and, of course, plenty of salt, along with a host of other spices. It is commonly cooked with fried eggs for kahvalti (Turkish breakfast) or as a topping on pide (Turkish pizza). You can also easily find it at a grill-out on a hot Izmir summer afternoon.  Sucuk is high in fat and sodium, so my recipe doesn’t add salt or much other fat to the dish. However, if you’re opting for a healthier sausage, like a chicken or reduced sodium sausage, you may want some more salt and/or fat to your fry. 

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To get your potatoes and cabbage (which is in season right now in Turkey!) to soak that delicious sucuk flavor in, you want to make sure you fry your sucuk first (and remove them from the pan so they don’t burn) add in a little olive oil, and fry your potato cubes in the remaining fat. The hot fat will not only fry your potatoes beautifully, but also add some rich flavor to them. If you are using a non-sucuk sausage, be sure to add garlic to your fry, as well as red pepper flakes if you like a little heat. 

I also add a little vinegar to introduce some acid and brighten the dish. Alternatively, you could add some citrus juice to cut the heaviness of this fry. If you’re using a chicken or pork sausage, you could also experiment by substituting apple cider vinegar for red wine vinegar. Don’t forget to let me know how your fry turned out in the comments below!

Sucuk Potato Cabbage Fry

• 2 links sucuk, sliced (Or chicken or pork sausage)
• 1 lb potatoes peeled and chopped into ½ inch cubes
• ½ cabbage head, chopped
• 1 tbsp Olive oil
• 2 Tbsp red wine vinegar
• Salt, Pepper, garlic powder, and paprika to taste

1. In a large skillet or dutch oven, fry the sliced sucuk until lightly browned and released fat. Remove sucuk to a plate.
2. Add enough olive oil to bring total fat to ¼ inch. Mix and allow to heat up. Add potatoes, stirring occasionally to brown all sides of the potatoes.
3. Once potatoes are mostly soft, add in the cabbage and return the sucuk to the pan. Stir and allow the cabbage to begin to soften. (If adding garlic, add now)
4. Add the vinegar and deglaze the pan, scratching up the brown bits on the bottom of the pan with a wooden spoon. 
5. Add paprika, salt and pepper to taste. Afiyet Olsun!

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Now tell me:

• What about you?
• What’s your favorite type of sausage?
• Can you find sucuk where you live?
• Have you tried this fry? How did it turn out for you?
• What would you change?

FOOD: Aşure, a beautiful community tradition

Perhaps you’ve heard the story before: a great evil, a divinely sent flood, and a man with a zoo on a boat. 

It’s one of the oldest stories told, a story that takes many different forms, but what makes it unique is its ubiquity. In every inhabited continent, there is a myth of a great flood: from the Inca’s tale of Pachakuti, to the Mesopotamian story of Gilgamesh, from the strikingly similar stories of Nu’u in Hawaiian mythology, Noah in the Torah, Tumbainot of the Maasai, and Nuh in the Qur’an, to the starkly different stories from the Egyptians, Chinese, Finnish, and Ojibwe. 

Stories are one of the beautiful things that connects us all as people.

Despite the variety of ways our different cultures play out in the way we tell stories, or even the focus of our stories, this diversity can lead us to see the unifying artistic and creative elements of story-telling. Stories can help us understand one another.  The more we look at the stories we all tell, the more we can see the similarities we share in our experiences and histories. The dish I want to introduce you to today has a similar unifying quality. 

Aşure [pronounced “ah-shoor-eh”] is a Turkish dessert that has its roots in this story of the flood as found in the Qur’an. It is said that when the passengers of the ark were on the brink of starving, Nuh (Noah) mixed together all the leftover grains, nuts, beans and fruit to make what would be dubbed “the oldest dessert.” Together he and the other passengers ate, celebrating the end of the flood, and the next day Allah (God) made the waters of the flood recede.  

Today, while this day is celebrated differently by different sects of Islam, Turks generally share this dessert with neighbors, family, and friends in goodwill and kindness in the Islamic month of Muharram, especially on the 10^th day of Muharram [Ashura]. This year, that landed on August 29^th. Some Islamic traditions hold that a variety of miracles and divine interactions happened on this day throughout history, including the exodus of the Jews from Egypt. 

Aşure, like the flood narrative itself, is a picture of unity and diversity.

A dessert meant to be shared with neighbors, coworkers, friends and family, aşure is one unified dish made up of surprisingly varied ingredients (like fruit, grains and beans!). Likewise, despite the vast differences in the details of the flood narratives around the world, they all hold a unified history, and are shared from generation to generation. Each tells of a great being acting in response to some provocation to flood the world, leaving a few survivors. While the details of who that great being was, what provoked the flood, who survived, and how they survived differ greatly, those same differences helped create the variety of cultures we see in the world today. 

As easily identifiable markers of culture, food and story-telling have always had this unifying effect. What culturally significant moments do you participate in that involve food and/or story-telling? Is there a holiday that your family celebrates with specific food? Is there a time when neighbors, friends or family gather and share stories of religious, familial, or national significance? Aşure is a religiously significant dish shared with neighbors and friends regardless of their religious background. What’s one way you can invite someone new into your traditions this year?

What’s in Aşure?

Aşure is a porridge with a lovely fall taste (similar to cinnamon oatmeal), and a wide variety of textures. if you are an expat in Turkey, you may find yourself easily overwhelmed by the sheer amount you receive from your neighbors. But since it is full of whole grains, beans, and fruit, you can eat this dessert with less guilt than my previous cookie recipes!

The very nature of aşure is that it doesn’t have one specific recipe. Everyone’s aşure is slightly different based on personal taste and what’s on hand. Here are the general categories of the ingredients of aşure, and some options of what you can put in yours. Mix and match! Try some different combinations and let me know in the comments what your favorite is!

• Grains: Barley, Wheat, bulgur, and/or rice
• Beans: White beans and/or chickpeas
• Dried Fruit: Dates, dried figs, dried apricots, dried cranberries, raisins, and/or other dried fruits
• Seeds + Spices + Seasonings: Anise seed, sesame seeds, black cumin seeds, cardamom, cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg, allspice, rose water, and/or orange blossom water + a sweetener like honey (one could also use maple syrup, sugar, turbinado, or a sugar substitute like stevia)
• Nuts: Pine nuts, walnuts, almonds and/or pistachios
• Fresh Fruit: Pomegranate kernels, orange (or orange peel), lemon (or lemon peel)

Start with soaking the beans, raisins and grain separately overnight. Then cook the beans on the stovetop in water, add the grains, and let it thicken. Then add fruit, spices, and nuts until the porridge comes together. Here are links to some more specific recipes if you struggle not having a specific recipe to work from. 

All Recipes Asure

TurkishFoodie Recipe

Personally, I really enjoy the flavor of aşure. The first few spoonfuls are fascinating as I work my way through the high complexity of textures. But, I can quickly become overwhelmed by the complexity, so I tend to only eat a little at a time. Try making aşure yourself, and tell me what you think! Do you enjoy the complexity of flavors and textures? Which ingredients do you use? 

I hope you make some aşure this fall and winter, and share it with a good story, unifying the people around you.

Now tell me:

What are some ways you bring unity to your community through food and story-telling?