In the steep hillside Kulaksız section of the Beyoğlu neighborhood, Şakir Sefer nimbly weaves dough stuffed with small piles of kıyma (ground beef) or strips of pastırma (cured, spiced beef) into the shape of a canoe before sending it into the flame-licked depths of a massive stone oven. It's after lunch rush but things are still busy at Görele Pidecisi, a classic shop that specializes in Black Sea-style pide, different configurations of baked decadence in which meat and cheese mingle as the dough cooks, only to be enriched with a dollop of yellow butter that melts quickly and a whole egg that reaches over-easy on its own in the heat of the toppings.

Ramadan fasters in Istanbul may not love the endless daylight hours in summer nor the susuzluk (no water), but when the reward is a leisurely iftar under the trees on Kadınlar Pazarı, the pedestrianized market known as Little Siirt (named after the southeastern Turkish city where many of the local shop and restaurant owners hail from), it must surely seem worth it. A February iftar would not be quite the same, at least not in Turkey. As we walked through the twilight to Siirt Şeref Büryan Kebap Salonu at the end of the square last Saturday, hundreds of fasters waited in front of cling-filmed plates of iceberg lettuce and ciǧ köfte for the Ramadan cannon to signal “breakfast” time.

The fourth time was the charm when we finally were able to take a seat at Salepepe, a five-stool pizza bar in the exceedingly hip neighborhood of Yeldeğirmeni, located in Istanbul's Kadıköy district on the Anatolian side of the city. When we first went, the restaurant was closed due to selling out early, while the next attempts involved lines out the door, and those in line had dibs on the last pies of the day. But we weren't about to give up after hearing lots of hype about the first and only Tokyo-style Neapolitan pizza joint in Istanbul, which was opened at the beginning of 2023 by 34-year-old Altuğ Şencan, a photographer by trade who long wanted to open his own restaurant.

It's a busy fall weekday in Istanbul, the weather is perfect and the streets around Istanbul University, the Beyazit Mosque and the iconic Grand Bazaar are buzzing. In the late afternoon, shopkeepers are scrambling to make their last sales while the best restaurants in the area are getting ready to close. Mediocre establishments are open later into the night, with employees brandishing large menus and coaxing tourists through their doors. Avoiding the crowd around one of the bazaar's main entrances, we saunter down a side street where things instantly feel more local. We've come to the specific address of a kebab restaurant recommended by friend and intrepid Istanbul walk leader Benoit Hanquet, but there is no such eatery in sight.

Some recipes are so deeply connected with the region from which they originate that they are simply named after that place. Circassian chicken, an appetizer beloved in Turkey and throughout the Caucasus, is such a dish. The recipe itself takes on many different variations across different geographical locations, much like the mosaic of people and cultures that can be found within the large area in which Circassian chicken is enjoyed. There is record of the recipe for Circassian chicken entering Ottoman cuisine as early as the year 1859, by way of immigrants and exiles who came from the Caucasus to the Ottoman Empire.

Situated on a pleasant corner in the heart of Kurtuluş is an unlikely yet warmly welcomed addition to this beloved neighborhood's excellent food scene: Horo Burger, which only features Sloppy Joes on its menu. While the name of this American classic conjures pleasant memories of family dinner for some and horrifying flashbacks from the school cafeteria for others, Horo's take on the Sloppy Joe is faithful yet elevated, just as put-together as it is messy.

On a side street just behind the lower edge of the Grand Bazaar lies a small, unsuspecting sign directing one up a flight of stairs to Kardeşler Köftecisi, a no-frills, hole-in-the-wall shop that has been serving grilled meatballs (köfte) for more than half a century. Unlike many nearby restaurants on the touristy strip, no one is trying to pressure you to go inside and there is no English menu, or any menu at all, for that matter. Kardeşler Köftecisi is truly an esnaf (small tradesmen’s) restaurant, as most of their customers work in the massive covered market and in other shops in the vicinity.

Most of Murat Kelle Paça’s clientele stumble in between 1 and 5 o’clock in the morning, after a boisterous night of drinking, concert-going and dancing. Located in the heart of Beyoğlu and surrounded by the best nightlife in Istanbul, if not all of Turkey, Murat attracts one of the most diverse crowds of any restaurant we have seen in Istanbul. During the day, the usual blue- and white-collar crowd – from lawyers to bankers to store attendants – trundles in during their lunch break. But flash-forward to nighttime and the scene becomes much more interesting.

This year was one of tragedy and tumult for Turkey, as the devastating earthquakes of February 6 ripped through the southeast of the country, leaving more than 50,000 dead and displacing millions. If that weren't enough, the focus then shifted to highly-polarizing general and presidential elections held at the end of spring, with the economy spiraling ever downward and unofficial inflation rates soaring past three digits. The Turkish lira continued losing value and the prices of so many consumer goods increased every couple of days. The word “expensive” lost all meaning. Having established that gloomy context, the Istanbul food world nevertheless remained resilient. There’s still excitement to be found in the form of excellent spots that further confirm our belief that we could never run out of intriguing places in this sprawling city.

Ergenekon Avenue, the busy, one-way street that separates the Istanbul quarters of Kurtuluş and Pangaltı, is particularly bustling at the Osmanbey metro exit. For years now, the heavy foot traffic has outgrown its narrow sidewalks, peaking into an insurmountable throng at evening rush hour. On one side is an expansive walled Levantine Catholic cemetery, while the other side of the avenue marks the beginning of Kurtuluş, with its dead-straight residential backstreets running in parallels. These have quickly become home to an array of bars, cafes, restaurants and meyhanes that have popped up within the past several years and seem to keep multiplying. But nestled into a small storefront on the crowded Ergenekon is Pangaltı Sandviç, a tiny delicatessen that has been selling sandwiches made with top-notch ingredients since 1996, long before any of these newcomers.

In the Yayladere district of Bingöl, one of Turkey's eastern provinces, nestled in a valley in the foothills of the mountains known by the local Kurdish population as Silbûs û Tarî, lies the village of Conag. Come summer, the women of the village carry out a tradition that has been upheld in the region for some three centuries: rolling out and then drying a type of noodle known as êrişte. They come together every year in September to roll out the dough made with flour, salt and water, to be sun-dried and finally cut into square-shaped pieces to be used as the main ingredient of the traditional noodle, yogurt and wild thyme soup gêrmiya êrişte. The softer sunlight at this time of year is perfect for drying êrişte (pronounced eh-rish-te) without it cracking.

Tucked away on the fourth floor of a nondescript building in the heart of Istanbul's Beyoğlu districts lies a hidden gem that we just discovered, despite the fact that Antakya Mutfağı has been in business for twenty years. Here, the Kar family serves up the cuisine of the southern province of Hatay, which boasts some of Turkey’s richest food. Can Yaşar Kar, the restaurant’s founder, is a furniture-maker by trade who decided to open the place as a hobby and serve faithful renditions of Antakya classics. Historically known as Antioch, Antakya was among the most important cities of its kind during the Roman Empire, and is known for a wealth of historic structures, an iconic archaeology museum, and its cosmopolitan, multi-confessional population. Antakya Mutfağı is now run by his son Sofo, who graduated from university with a degree in international relations but decided that he wanted to helm the restaurant.

On a busy street in Beşkitaş, nestled between a camera shop and a turşu stand, sits an unassuming storefront offering çiğ köfte. Open only after 3 p.m., it’s easy to walk by and not take notice of what seems like an average fast-food joint. But this is Çiğköfte Yiyelim (which translates to “Let’s eat çiğ köfte!”), and is one of our favorite spots for this dish from southeastern Turkey because of the unique variations offered. Çiğ köfte is a mixture of fine bulgur wheat (sometimes along with raw minced meat), onions, olive oil, tomato and pepper paste, herbs and spices including parsley and cumin, lemon and water that is kneaded together by hand and formed into oblong pieces with characteristic finger-sized indentations in the surface.

Mahir Lokantası is one of our favorite diners in the busy Osmanbey area for many reasons. The homey decor with clean white tablecloths, the panoramic view of the intersection of Halaskargazi and Rumeli streets and the warmth of the wood-fired oven that bakes many of the daily specials all keep us coming back. But perhaps what makes Mahir Lokantası so special is the way the chef and owner of the restaurant, Mahir Nazlıcan, brings the flavors of his mother's recipes and his roots from southeast Turkey’s Diyarbakır to life through his dishes. The Turkish diner, also known as esnaf lokantası, is of the most important concepts in Turkish culinary culture. The direct translation is “tradesman restaurant,” and the foods in these diners are cooked in big pots that makes them not only delicious but also affordable.

The upper-middle class residential neighborhood of Dikilitaş in Istanbul's Beşiktas district is certainly pleasant enough, but is not a place we pass through very often and has few culinary attractions that we know of. So when we encountered Bay Köfte, a food truck churning out sandwiches one cannot find elsewhere in the city (or the country for that matter) we were intrigued instantly, and have since been back to Dikilitaş twice – this new street food favorite is sure to take us to the neighborhood much more often.