Simit is the “Turkish bagel” or so they say. I did not think so until I had the kind that sort of reminded me of a bagel. There are subtleties to simit that I have not yet fully comprehended. Some are coated in butter, some are coated in sesame seeds, some are baked harder, and some are coated in molasses. These are the five types that I have discovered in Adana. Apparently the molasses one is special to Adana. (Scroll down to see it)
Fluffy sesame simitTwisted slightly chewy simitBaked like pizza simit – also chewy — pizza bottom crust.Dipped in molasses simit – crunchy and sweet.Kazan, I think. These are twisted, chewy, and basted in molasses.
There is an old simit shop that has been around for more than 100 years, supposedly. They do one kind of simit. The kazan. Each simit costs around 10 lira. Bread prices are controlled by the government.
Generally, simit is a breakfast item, or a tea item. There are simit vendors who roam the streets and usually the simit they sell is the kazan simit. Simit is often paired with a processed cheese product sort of like the pie shaped Laughing Cow. The Turkish variety is funkier and takes getting used to. I am now digging it.
I have my favorite places and those usually bake fresh simit all the time. It is wonderful to smell fresh baked simit and even better to chew into it.
Many years ago, I went to a fabulous hammam (the idea of it being a “Turkish bath” was introduced in 1644 even though the tradition is more than 2,000 years old and started as “thermae” in Rome) in Istanbul. Now that I live in Adana, I wanted to find the experience again.
I asked some colleagues if they went to the hammam. As one man said to me, “No, I do not like strange men touching me… and especially when I have no clothes on.” Fair comment, fair comment. I asked others who told me that they did not go the hammam. No tradition of it now that everyone has a bathroom in their own home. In the old days, people had no running hot water in the home so they went to the bathhouse.
The hamman tradition is a remnant of the Romans (again, it’s all about those roads leading to Rome). The Romans also had no baths at home. The bath houses were a place to do more than bath. One went there to exercise, eat, and socialize. Everywhere the Romans went, they built baths (and roads). Even after the “fall of Rome” the Roman empire continued as the Byzantine Empire, then as the Ottoman Empire. Fast forward a century, and the hammam still exists.
Recently I learned that in olden times (I assume Ottoman times), mothers would go to the hammam to find a wife for their sons… well, I guess that is a sure way to do a visual inspection. I cannot speak to the visual inspection thing, but what I do know is that most young people and many others do not use the public hammams anymore. On top of which at many of the hammams, they have private rooms.
A hammam in Adana which is easy to identify by the skylights.
Despite what the modern Turks prefer, I was looking forward to getting regular Turkish baths. So I went searching. Most of the hotels have Turkish bathhouses. So far, I can see that they are staffed with Balinese women. One hotel had Balinese women for the English speakers and Turkmen women for the Turkish speakers. Generally the price is around 2,000 to 2,500 for a Turkish bath at a hotel. You do not need to be staying at the hotel to use the hammam.
It may seem a mystery for many so I will explain the basics of the Turkish bath. The men and women are separated either by location or time (some days or parts of the days for women and others for men). You can make an appointment or walk in and see if they have someone available.
This is one of the hammams in Adana. They have a plunge pool. Note the Turkish towels on the shelves.
Some places will have blue “shower caps” for your shoes for you to put on before you enter the spa area.
Some of the shoe cover machines do not use blue shower caps.
Once you enter, you will be taken to a locker room where you put your belongings in a locker (including your underwear although I’m told that some people keep it on). Then put on the robe or cotton wrap and paper slippers. Some places will make you shower before, but some do not have showers at the beginning. Then someone will guide you to the sauna, then the steam room (the sauna and steam room are optional), and then to the room with the golden taps and golden dish to rinse yourself. The person bathing you will be wearing a Turkish towel as well or maybe that and a top (if a woman). After you, and they, have rinsed you enough, they will indicate that you lie down on the warm marble slab (which is usually octagonal and in the center of the room) where they have placed a Turkish cotton towel.
Then, the person will take a special scrubbing brush and scrub a few layers of skin off you. This will be all over you, except for the genitalia. But very close. They will indicate when you need to roll over, when you need to sit up, and so on. They will scrub your face and wash your hair as well. They will massage you a bit. Then you will be rinsed off again.
Then you lie down on the warm wet towel again. And the best part happens… they take a cotton “pillow case” and suds it up in a cauldron. From there, they squeeze the suds and bubbles over you. It is marvelous. The warm bubbles effervesce on you like giddy bubble bath champagne. It is bliss.
A view showing the marble bench where you would sit and rinse yourself (also from the fancy place in Istanbul).
After the hammam is over, you may be covered in more towels and taken out to a rest area. There you may be offered tea or other restoratives.
Typical rest area in a hotel spa.
And then you pay. You can tip if you want to. Some places want cash payment which I find a bit…
I have now been in Adana for almost a year. These are recommendations I got from a local (and their comments) before I got here. I have been to almost all these places. In a way, this is a recommendation list of Adana specialities. I wrote about those earlier.
The “milk shake” at Kazim’s Buffet is more like a banana smoothie.
Of course, I now have my own recommendations. And it doesn’t mention most of these places. But then again, I’m not local. But, I have a sneaking suspicion that these recommendations were made for me as a foreigner. I made my own list of expat friendly places.
Okay, there is only one. There are a few by name, more on that below. But, this one may be the only one that will, perhaps, scratch that itch if you are desperate. Otherwise, go to Ankara or Istanbul. But, the one that is here in Adana is quite pretty and has a nice vibe. The decorations were done by a Persian artist and the owner of the restaurant is from Georgia (the country next to Turkiye).
There are all the elements, except for pork, that could make for good Mexican or Tex-Mex food here in Adana. But the local tastes are not really into it. While there is chile spice, it’s not quite like the ones in Mexico. While there is grilled meat, the seasonings are not the same.
Like anywhere, the food will get adapted to fit the local tastes. I say, deal with it. Enjoy a drink or two. Enjoy the music. Enjoy the vibe. And go to Mexico for your Mexican food.
Oh, sure, at other places there are things like burritos listed on the menu. It will be a wrap. It will not scratch the Mexican food need in your soul.
So, sit back and enjoy the place.
Oh, and if you smoke, you can smoke indoors. That might be a plus for some people.
There are few other places with nachos on the menu or available. There are two others in name, By Taco, and Mex Casa. Mex Casa has a Mexican themed artwork on one wall. That’s it for Mexican.
By Taco is a food stand on the side of a big road. They do well because their prices are so low. They are also friendly. But the “taco” is not Mexican in any way other than it is a flat bread stuffed with stuff. At 75 Turkish Lira or $1.78, it is a cheap eat.
Still, it tasted fine. It tasted Turkish. I predict that “Tex Mex” food is the next big way after sushi so watch this space…
Hey, before ya come at me with your ‘tude, keep in mind that I cannot taste all the burgers in Adana. I tried. I ate a burger and fries for dinner for seven days in a row… my conclusion is that I cannot try them all.
Some of the best burgers I’ve had were in the United States. American beef is famous for being delicious. It is the land of the burger. The cattle are different here.
But Adana is the land of meat. They have “kofte” which are meatballs and they have them all over. They even have the kind that are not made of meat. But I digress. Which burger did I like the best?
Los Brunos: The meat tastes the best. They have nachos. Their fries are fine.
Barks Burgers: Famously the most popular with the expats. Good burger. Good fries.
Grill Lab: Best fries — hand cut and awesome. Homemade aioli (mayonnaise). Other sauces homemade. AND, the best pickled jalepeno I have tasted, ever. Also house made. I did find gristle in my burger but the chef says that he will soon grind his own meat.
Grill Lab’s fries and sauces are handmade and delicious.
I went to other places (there are hundreds and hundreds of burger places in this town) but either the meat was too “animaly” or the meat was like a wool sweater.
One day when in Flushing, Queens, I felt the need to find a foot rub. Maybe Chinese reflexology. After all, I was in one of the largest Chinatowns in the world.
I looked at the map and there was a place nearby with a 5-star rating. I eventually found it in a high rise behind a bakery (to the left of the green awning in the photo).
The reflexologist was a gentle soul who bathed my feet first before working on my meridian lines. Luckily my Mandarin-speaking friend showed up so she could do some translating. Not that I remember very much as I was too busy feeling relaxed.
Ms. Annie Wong was a treasure. I wish I lived nearby. Because I was the first customer of the day, I got my 90-minute foot massage for around 50 bucks.
I highly recommend finding places like AW Spa when in Chinatown Flushing.
Maybe I’ve mentioned it before, but instead of collecting tangible things like racing cars or stamps, I collect Korean restaurant experiences. It is more fun in cities with fewer of them. I have now been to all the Korean restaurants in Adana. Here is my rundown of them from best to worst.
Korean Cultural Center, Toros, 78178. Sk. NO:3 A, 01170 Çukurova/Adana, closed on Sundays. Best (and maybe only tapioca boba tea in town) ramyun, ttokbokki, and their kimbap with tuna is okay. You can also dress up in Korean clothes for a photo op.
In Seoul, located in the north. Popular place for instant noodle ramen, seaweed rolls (kimbap), and fried chicken.
Kore A Cafe, is across from the train station. Owned by the In Seoul Koreans. Same menu.
Kimchi from Quick China.
Quick China, has a Korean menu. And the best kimchi in town. It’s odd that their kimchi is the best.
Sopung, no relation to Korea other than someone thought it would be a good idea. Costumes also available here for photo ops. Food is not Korean. But it’s a popular place.
So overall, there is only decent instant/student/fast Korean food here. It is weird that there is no decent Korean barbecue because, just as with Mexican food, all the elements are here.
The Korean wave is a real thing here and there is now one Korean shop that also sells instant noodles.
Since you can’t take an Adana kebab as a souvenir, one has to (has to) find a magnet or mug as a souvenir. Recently, I was at the women’s cooperative, Adana Kadın kooperatifleri Birliği, for brunch and it turns out that they also have a shop (one is sitting surrounded by things to buy) so that is my recommendation for where to buy souvenirs.
Adana is famous for its clock tower, orange festival, Roman bridge, and the kebab. This shop, located conveniently in old Adana (just down from the clock tower, on the side of a park, Ziyapaşa Parkı), is a nice reprieve from the heat and bustle. Or cold and wet.
The orange festival is the biggest event of the year in Adana.
Aside from souvenirs like magnets, they also have handmade items and food for sale. And as I mentioned, you can eat there. The staff are very nice. It is hard to not buy a basket or hammer pants (which is the baggy style that many people wear here).
The other place I would recommend for souvenirs is Starbucks. Sounds odd? The Adana mug is adorable.
There are also other places to find souvenirs but one has to search. Or stick to the main touristy street.
The trend in Adana is sushi rolls. Sushi restaurants are everywhere. Metro, the Costco-like store that supplies restaurants, carries everything you need to run a sushi roll, maki, restaurant. There is a popular chain of eateries called Maki. They serve everything but sushi rolls are a big part of the menu.
An assortment of sushi rolls including with fries on them…
I can’t figure it out, but I also saw it in Italy.
Korean rice rolls called kimbap.
The other thing, and sort of connected, is the rise of Korean places. Maybe it’s the rise of the “cute” culture? Kawaii is the Japanese word for “cutsie culture” and this infantilization is popular in many places. So far I have only seen one person dressed sort of in this way. But, Flying Tiger arrived in Adana. Flying Tiger is a Danish “dollar store” chain that sells many cute, and sometimes practical, things. (Flying Tiger is derived from the sound of a “tenner” in Danish sounding like the word for tiger).
Recently a Korean store opened up. Also filled with cutsie things.
Sushi with mayo…
Maybe the sushi roll is not so strange. Adana has rolls made with meat and flat bread.
Turkish flatbread rolls.
I predict that the next trend is tacos. You read it here!
When a cup of tea costs $20, then you might as well get as many brews out of it as possible. The tea tasting I did in New York seems a world away from Adana, and centuries ago.
One of the pours.
When I went to Chinatown Flushing in New York, I went on a tea tasting at Fang Gourmet Tea. After selecting two teas (at $20 each), the tea connoisseur explained the tea, washed the miniature cups in hot water, and brewed the tea. Five times for each tea. After each brew, we tasted the tea again.
The tea changed color with every brew.
I’ll admit that this may be too subtle for me. After a while, it just tasted like ‘tea’ to me. I could see the change in color, but I started to hallucinate that I was making up flavors and aromas just because I was supposed to be able to detect them… actually, what I found most interesting was the tea person. She had worked there for decades. She was calm and deliberate with all her movements. She really sensed every nuance in each brew… and I think she found our obtuseness a bit amusing.
The skein of a filter.
After the tasting, we could buy the teas. These are not cheap. Nothing below $45. The shop was filled with tea paraphernalia that we could buy.
Fast forward a few centuries and I live in Adana where tea is offered at every meal. And in between. But here the tea is the color of mahogany. (Turkiye has the highest per capita of tea drinking at three kilos per person, per year.)
One should only expect that every pilaf eatery is host to its own Turkish drama.
As I mentioned in another article about the meat market, I was actually on my way to a famous pilaf restaurant. After the meat market, I found my way back to the rice eatery. This type of rice restaurant is most common in Istanbul but there are some in Adana. This particular one has been open for 60 years. Now the grandson runs it on a daily basis although the grandfather does show up to keep the wait staff in order (like to tell them to get to work instead of talking to me… oops, sorry)
Like in most local places, or so it seems, the young teen touts are the ones that get you into the shop. Here there were two of them. One was wheeling a scratched blue wheelbarrow containing a large tinfoil covered cauldron. I followed him in. He proudly lifted the cauldron onto the counter and lifted the foil to reveal the steaming broad beans simmering in tomatoes. I did not order that. I was here for the rice pilaf with chickpeas (garbanzo beans) with shredded chicken breast meat on top. And the potato vegetable sauce. Oh, and the yogurt dressing not to be called tzatziki. It is called cacik (jaw-jik) here. But that is also another story.
I ordered and was guided to a table near the action. Once I sat down, the teen waiter sat down across from me with his lunch. The other teen waiter chatted to me from the next table as he used his Google translate to find questions for me. As I tried to eat without spilling (almost impossible when being watched and filmed?), the 20-something manager and the teen waiters asked me questions… Are you married? Where is your family? Where are you from? Are you here alone? Why? What do you do for work? Is America beautiful? Why are you not married? Take me with you. Mostly the teen waiters asked me these questions. I tried to deflect them as vaguely as possible and with my own questions. How old are you? Why aren’t they in school? They leave school at 12? The other waiter, a man who looked familiar in that way that he looked very Turkish, stood quietly and said nothing. I am sure I have seen his face somewhere. Maybe on the eatery’s social media.
Salt and spicy pickled chilis to taste.
Then, a man entered. He had a strong jaw and longish locks of hair curling over his thick brows. Omar worked there as well. The other boys and men in the pilaf shop extolled Omar’s English skills. Omar (I don’t recall his real name so I’ve named him after the main character in Black Love Money, a Turkish drama) had worked in Istanbul for six years at a deluxe hotel and that was why his English was as good as it was. Omar took a plate of food and sat on the tiny stool next to me. He had a moody sort of attractiveness about him that I could see the ladies might like. He looked to be about 38 so he was probably 22. Life can age one here, especially for those working since the age of 13, and smoking from before then.
Omar had recently returned to Adana. To fight with his family. He has ten brothers and sisters. He fights with his mother, his father, his brothers, and his sisters. The teen waiters and the grandson manager told me this. The silent one, who looks so familiar, nodded in concurrence. Omar fights with his family. Yes. It is so.
I asked why.
It seems that Omar lives, lived, his life as he wants and is not married with children, like he is supposed to be. Omar then said that life is bad here. He wants to go to America. The teen waiters chimed in at this point. One told me that he wants to go to Germany. Omar, and the teen waiters, wanted me to take them to America. (This reminds me of a taxi ride I had a month or so ago when the driver, through my friend’s translation skills, at first suggested that I marry him and take him to America… but then, when I told him that he was too young, offered to be adopted by me. As a joke, I said that I would have to give him a new name as well. He spent the next ten minutes laughing and saying, “Give me a name! Adopt me!” which made my Turkish friends laugh so that the taxi was rocking with our collective merriment.) At the rice shop, the question was, “When do you go? I go with you.” As if life were so simple.
Rice pilaf with chicken and meat gravy, yogurt sauce, and bread.
Speaking of proposals, this is when the drama gets Turkish. And romantic. And tragic.
Omar told me that he had met a Lithuanian girl. They fell in love. She went back home. He was going to move to be with her. Then, he found out that she had died in a car accident. As he told me this, Omar quickly wiped the corner of his eye and said, “I am not going to cry. My heart is broken.”
What a sad story.
Always tea.
At that moment, the grandfather gave a command and Omar got up. There were tables to clean. Customers to serve. Not.
I got up and paid. I had places to be. One of the teen waiters told me to give them a five star rating.
If you are wondering, the rice pilaf with chick peas was good. My meal cost 130 Turkish Lira ($3). I left a 200 note. One of the teen waiters said, “Ah, the tip” which I am sure they got from the YouTubers who made this place famous. I am not sure that the Turkish drama is told every time.
The lunar, Chinese, new year is February 17 to March 3 this year. Here is a memory of eating Chinese hotpot last year.
The OG (original gangster — a name from the 1970s for the “original”) of hot pot is a place called Hai Di Lao.
We ordered too much.
The first Hai Di Lao restaurant was opened in Sichuan, China, in 1994. Now it is a global chain with over 1,000 locations. When in Flushing, New York, we had to go.
Selection of meats.
First, even if you think you can hack spicy, go lower. We got the spiciest and the pain for the next, sleepless, 12 hours was not worth it. Never again (I hope I remember this next time!).
More stuff, from lotus root, tofu skin, dumplings, etc.
Second, make a reservation. The location in Flushing is massive. We were at table 89. The place is fun for families and there are treats in the waiting room (fresh soy milk! wowza).
Multi level swinging shelves.
Third, remember that you can order more… don’t go all out first time round. Remember to order the hand pulled noodles so that you get some good video of the guy spinning around and flipping noodles at you like a lasso.
Chicken skin.
Fourth, enjoy the aprons. It helps with the mess (and drooling?).
My dipping sauce bowl.
As you may know, sichuan peppercorns and other chiles are addictive. So while I enjoyed the spicy hot pot, I could not sleep that night and the pain in my tummy was too much.
A final note on OG. I always thinks it stands for original goat.
