Exploring local places is a bit like trick or treating. Here are some places that are a bit of a mixed bag in terms of experience but exploring them is a treat.
Ali Emre Simit Dunyasi
Honey water for the Simit.
Resatbey Simitci
Try unusual local places like these:
Cadir 01 is a yurt harking back to the steppe background of the Turks.
Arya Kebap, mostly because it’s a challenge to find it. Located on the north side of the D400, in an industrial zone. Turn off main road at the orange notary sign.
Dolmus Kafe, for the experience of talking to really local people.
A bus turned into a cafe.
Or maybe avoid these places if you find them spooky.
Of course lots of the locals are wealthy or middle class so if you want to feel like a bougie local, try going to the places on my expat list.
Now that I have lived in Adana for a year, what do I think of it?
A mocktail overlooking the paradise that could be…
Well, I think it is not as hot as people told me it would be. Last summer it was as hot as people told me it would be. It was 109 F (43 C) in the shade. But this summer was not as hot. The weather is a favorite topic here. But that is true of many places.
After a year here, what has surprised me is the live and let live attitude of this “village” of two million people. It was a nice surprise. Also, I am thankful for google translate, but often, I do not use it anymore. Smiles and charades often do enough communicating. And there is always tea. Always say yes to the tea. It is not about the caffeine or the liquid. It is about the offer to be welcomed by the person who offered the tea. Always accept the tea.
Always say hello and good morning/day. They do not like rudeness here. Say thank you. Please. Pardon. These few words go a long way.
Is it cheap here? Steadily less so. Breakfast can cost ten bucks. Or three.
The people? Generally amazed that I live here. Generally friendly. Most are downright polite and helpful.
As I mentioned before, I like that Adana is full of contrasts. I love that I can walk everywhere but I don’t love the bad sidewalks or lack of them. I love the chattiness and friendliness of the folks I meet. I like that there is charity here and little homelessness. I like the taxis. I love that everyone will serve you Turkish breakfast and that it is a thing one does. Always with lots of tea. I like that the sun shines most days.
I got a doner wrap for les than three dollars here.
Also, I love that there are few tourists here. Tourism would be good for the city, but… I like the lack of vicious tourism that happens in big places.
How much do I like it here? It often depends on how much I am sweating.
It is funny how one thing leads to another… for example, there is a movie out now about a guy who was trying to go home to Ithaca… and then I find a pizza place run by a guy who returned home to Adana FROM Ithaca. New York, not Greece.
A view over my slices of Ali’s Favorite.
This Adana guy worked at Ned’s Pizza in Ithaca, NY for five years and now he has opened a place, Pizza Borsa, that serves the same food. In Adana. He makes a delicious spicy pizza.
The pizza guy’s English is probably only slightly better than my Turkish. Luckily Señor Suleyman was there. He is there to help with the tea. Or so it seemed. Turns out that he owns the building, is a retired engineer who speaks some English. His daughter in law runs a pilates studio upstairs and his eldest son, Ali, has a pizza named after him, Ali’s Favorite. It is my favorite too. It has beef bits, mushrooms, and fresh cut jalapeño.
This pizza place is a mishmash of design and I do not know how long before the food has to be adapted to local tastes… Nope, never mind. It already happened. I tried the garlic knots and somehow, they were the most Turkish thing I have ever had. Is it the dried oregano?
Do you recall that scene from My Big Fat Greek Wedding where the father explains that everything was invented by the Greeks? Don’t mention that here in Türkiye… or rather, just use the same logic but assume that the Turks invented it.
Take for example, “Greek yogurt” — strained thick plain yogurt. It is called “süzme” if you are looking for it in the grocery store. The plain non thick yogurt is actually although fairly thick, but this stuff will not separate and you can stand a spoon up in it!
Testing a different brand.
Oh, and we should mention that yogurt is actually Turkish. The word come from the Turkish yoğurmak “to thicken or curdle” but the actual process also come from the Turkish peoples who moved from the central Asian steppes into Anatolia and Mesopotamia. The assumption is that yogurt was discovered by mistake when some milk was left in a goatskin… did you read my article about the goat of all cheeses?
The Ottomans made yogurt a big part of their cuisine and yogurt continues to dominate modern Turkish food. It is completely normal for Turks to eat yogurt as one of the sides of their every day meal (like eating ketchup, olive oil, or butter with everything). I see lunches that comprise of one container of meat or beans, one container of grain, maybe rice or bulgar, one container of yogurt, and one container with lemon, parsley, and a pepper, either spicy or not. In the dining room at work, there is always bread free for anyone to take to make their meal. This ties into cultural practice of providing bread or meals to those in need.
One of the main Turkish beverages is made from yogurt and water. Ayran is often served with a foamy head, created by running the yogurt mixture through a pipe or blender.
Once upon a fairytale, I had read to me stories of far away lands where boys in baggy Turkish pantaloons chased each other through markets with silk draped souk stalls, knocking over giant baskets, all while the colors of a thousand (and one) spices wafted through the hot sunny air…
Spices in drawers.
Stereotypes are hard to break. Adana is a modern city. But, I keep looking for that souk experience of my fairytales. Obviously without the humidity. And icky smells. Just colors and brightness.
Fresh sumac.
But, do you know where I find that in Adana? In the nut stores. And in the spice shops. While one can buy spices in the normal grocery store chains, it is still possible to find speciality stores with an “exotic” flavor. Often there are spices that I have never heard of or ever seen in leaf or bark form. In the nut stores, the sale of nuts is serious business often with a roaster outside (to attract custom with the aroma), but these stores also sell Turkish delight, candy, and other snacks. Mainly confectionary.
I don’t know. Potpouri?
The spice stores sell many kinds of spices but also often function as apothecaries, carrying olive oil shampoo, or baldness remedies. Some of the products are to be steeped as a tisane, or smoked, or applied as a salve.
I would like to say that these stores are located in the souks of my imagination. They are not. For that I may have to go to Izmir. Or Istanbul. Adana is too practical, I guess.
Did I mention this yet? One of the startling things about Adana is the hairy goat cheese. It’s called “tulum” and it’s an aged white cheese. Tastes good. But the packaging is a bit hairy.
A cheese waiting outside a store.
The tulum is made by filing a goat skin and letting it age. This was a practical solution in the days of yore. One does not have to buy the whole goat of cheese. As customers buy the cheese, the top is peeled down, the outside of the cheese is scraped of bits, and then the cheese is cut.
A tulum cheese being opened.
But, when I’m driving along and see one of the headless tulum cheeses with arms straight out… I’m reminded that I’m not in Kansas. Especially like the other day when the smiling cheese lady (in the photo) fed me a piece freshly cut from the goat.
Some people, mostly foreigners, find this a bit gross and reminds them of why they want to be vegan. So maybe I should have done a warning…
As the temperature started getting too hot for middle of the day outdoor activities (and frankly even too hot in the morning), I decided that I would do what the Turks did in the old days before air conditioning. They went to the Black Sea.
Giant bread larger than your head.
I went to Trabzon. For the respite from the 94-degree heat in Adana. In Trabzon, it was 84 degrees but humid. I still sweated. But Trabzon was an interesting diversion. The airport is seven minutes from downtown which they call Meydan (in Adana, most use the word, “merkez” for the center of town). There are many pedestrian streets in Trabzon, both in an area that feels like Switzerland or Italy, and then in an area that feels a bit more like Amman or Adana with covered cloth criss crossing the narrow alleys and older streets leading to Turkish baths or a mosque. Trabzon is now a tourist destination for middle easterners looking to escape the heat (84 is downright winter compared to 120) and many stores and restaurants have writing in Arabic. At one place I went to, the waiter was from Saudi Arabia and had been hired for his Arabic and English speaking skills.
Lots of metal containers for sale.
As I mentioned, I am done with touristy things unless it is food related. In Trabzon, the food specialties are a cheese cornmeal fondue type dish, gigantic bread larger than your head, a black cabbage soup, and sardines.
The melted cheese dish is called, “kuymak” and is melted cheese mixed with cornmeal. You use bread to dip into it. Very hardy food. It is nice if you can get a really good “pull” on your cheese but I went to a place where the cook apologized because she had not achieved that on my serving.
The gigantic bread is massive with the largest size weighing two kilograms (4.4 lbs). It is sourdough. The bakeries where they sell the bread can be hard to find as they seem to be all in one area. But, they sell the bread at the airport so no fear, one can take one with you last minute.
Black cabbage soup which is really kale pottage.
The soup is actually not a soup. So I was told. Apparently, one is supposed to use the cornbread as an additive and then the soup becomes a pottage or stew. This dish reminded me of the south in the USA.
I did not have any sardines but I did look for black tea as Trabzon is in tea growing country.
Overall, I felt like Trabzon was built for shopping.
One day in December, I was invited to the union celebration of Rumi. In Konya. I thought this was a marriage celebration, but in fact, it’s the union of Rumi with God — the celebration of Rumi’s death.
Other than a few quotes and knowing that Rumi was famous, I didn’t know much before that weekend.
Rumi, or Mevlana as he is often called in Turkish, was a Sufi mystic and poet, born in 1207 in the Persian empire. Fleeing the Mongol hordes, he eventually settle in Konya in what was the Byzantine Empire, or Easter Roman Empire. He was called “the Roman” or “Rumi” and that is what he is known as in English. There is so much to know about Rumi but I won’t go into it here.
Rumi said that the soul’s ultimate goal is to return to the divine through unconditional love, mindfulness, and the dissolution of ego. Down through the centuries, Rumi has become famous for his poetry. Most people have heard of the whirling dervishes and many have seen them “perform” but it’s more than that. Each rotation is a delicate prayer sent heavenward. The whirling dervishes were created by Rumi’s sons.
Personal.
The cultural center in Konya makes it easy to visit and appreciate the poetry and philosophy of Rumi, both for believers and non-believers. Every night, there is a whirling dervish performance at 7 pm. But, in December, there are special prayer sessions at 8 pm. These are hard to get tickets. It must be planned years in advance. For some reason, I thought it might be a solemn experience. It was a spiritual one. But also a very human one. All around me were people live streaming the songs and prayers via their telephones, often back to a loved one who was too sickly to make the event in person. The center also had lots of stalls where one could buy inexpensive crafts, Turkish delight, tea, and souvenirs.
Mevlani’s tomb.
Visiting the mausoleum of Rumi and his family was a quiet experience. There are many items on display so the place is a bit like a museum. But, there are also people there who are praying so it’s a bit like a mosque. One has to put on shoe covers, and women can, if they want, cover their hair. Scarves are available.
Loaner scarves.
Konya is a conservative city but during Rumi tourism time in December, it’s accommodating for foreigners. But the city gets crowded so plan ahead.
The hot summers: It gets up to 110 F (44 C) almost every day for a few weeks and the rest of the three or so months (mid-June through mid-September) the temperature will be above 90 F (32 C) during the day for months on end. This heat is not too sticky but it’s not completely dry and you still sweat. A lot. There is one good thing about this heat and that is that there are minimal outdoor activities or anything outdoors during this time. And there is lots of air conditioning.
The smoking. They smoke. A lot. Even inside restaurants.
The traffic. Yes, it’s bad. In the city. The roads are in bad condition. Not everyone follows the rules. Is the traffic worse than Dhaka? No.
Chaos but no animals in the streets.
The flies — well that ONE fly that goes straight for my mouth when I step outdoors. Or buzzes around our food at the breakfast places. Ugh. Usually it is not a big fly. But after I bought the electric fly swatter, life changed. Now I just have to figure out a way to attach the fly swatter to my face…
The lack of international items other than Japanese sushi rolls. No real Indian food. None. There is pasta with curry or rice with curry but it’s nothing like curry.
The language. It’s hard.
Other parts of Turkiye look down on this city. Many treat it like the ugly step child… It seems like lots of people come from Adana but have left.
But, even with all these negative things about Adana, I like this city. Maybe because it’s the underdog.
I like to sit in the front seat of the taxi so I can enjoy the sights out the window. Sometimes I see things that surprise me. One day, I saw a goat torso waving at me… I had to stop and take photos. It’s cheese made inside a goat. It is the goat of goat cheese. Some might even say the G.O.A.T., greatest of all time, of goat’s cheese.
A “tulum” cheese that has been cut into.
This cheese is called “tulum” or “goatskin/sheepskin” cheese. There are local varieties with some being placed in brine after cutting, akin to Greek feta. The cheese is aged for three to six months inside the skin.
The cheese is fairly strong in flavor but not as much as one would think.
Turkish meatballs are usually this shape although they can also be round.
I see the köfte (the Turkish meatball) everywhere in modern-day Turkish cooking. Never once have I thought how Swedish it seemed. It is surprising to think of it having a connection to Sweden. But, recently, I learned the origins of the Swedish meatball (köttbullar). Apparently, a Swedish King brought back the meatball from his travels to the Ottoman Empire.
In 1708, King Charles XII of Sweden decided to invade Russia. After a military defeat in 1709, he fled to the Ottoman Empire. The Swedish king went into exile for five days… but stayed for as a guest of the Ottoman Empire for five years. The Swedish king was at the Ottoman court for so long that the Ottoman treasury (who funded him) gave him the nickname, “registered immovable property.”
When King Charles XII returned to Swedish, he and his troops had acquired a taste for the Ottoman flavors ofmeatballs, stuffed cabbage, coffee, and sherbet. These foods entered the Swedish cuisine. The Swedish meatball was adapted to meet local tastes, including a creamy gravy, and lingonberry jelly. The first printed recipe for Swedish meatballs was in the 1755 cookbook by Swedish chef Casja Warg. As for the king, in 1718 when he tried to invade Denmark, again, he was fatally shot in the head.
Ikea in Turkiye sells the Swedish meatballs as a sandwich.
With the rise of Ikea, Swedish meatballs have become an internationally known dish. There is an Ikea store in Adana, out at the M1 mall, and they sell Swedish meatballs. You can even eat them at the cafe in the store. They are all beef as this is Adana.
In the freezer section at Ikea in Adana.
I wonder if the Turks enjoying the Swedish meatballs at Ikea think about the Turkish origins of their Swedish meatballs.
As I have done for all the places I’ve lived these past 15 years, I write about the pros and cons. This is the good stuff about living in Adana as a foreigner.
It’s a chill place even though the weather is hot in the summer. People are fairly relaxed here about dress code, lifestyle, smoking, drinking, etc. Live and let live. Cover your hair if you want. Wear shorts if you want. Hijabs next to mini skirts.
There are lots of coffee shops open late into the evening so that one can go out without going to a club.
Cups for sale.
There are thousands of restaurants in all price ranges. Every place will serve Turkish breakfast (kahvalti). Just ask.
A local eatery. A fancier restaurant.
The locals are friendly. Everyone has a phone so they can use a translator app.
There are no tourists. I mentioned that already in another article.
The great things about living in Adana are that it’s a vibrant city full of people going about their lives. Food is fresh and good. People are friendly. Taxis are cheap.
