It’s easy to end up with more than one lemon cake recipe. Most of them are good. A few stay.

This is the one that does. It’s simple, consistent, and easy to return to. The crumb stays soft, the lemon comes through clearly, and the glaze finishes it without weighing it down.

Nothing complicated, just a cake you’ll find yourself reaching for again.

Classic Lemon Loaf Cake

INGREDIENTS:

240 g all-purpose flour
7 g baking powder
2 g baking soda
3 g fine salt
20 g poppy seeds
120 g sugar
Zest of 3 large lemons
100 g unsalted butter, soft
40 ml olive oil
3 large eggs, room temperature
20 ml fresh lemon juice
150 g full-fat strained yogurt
5 g vanilla extract

Lemon Glaze:
200 g icing sugar
35–45 ml fresh lemon juice
Pinch of salt

METHOD

Preheat the oven to 170°C.

Make sure all ingredients are at room temperature.

Butter and line a 22.5 × 11.5 cm loaf tin.

In a bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, and poppy seeds.

Rub the lemon zest into the sugar until fragrant and slightly damp.

Using a paddle attachment, cream the butter and lemon sugar on medium speed for 3–4 minutes, until lighter in color and fluffy. Scrape down the bowl as needed.

Reduce the speed to medium-low and slowly stream in the olive oil.

Add the eggs one at a time, letting each one fully incorporate before adding the next. The mixture should look glossy and stable, not split.

Mix in the lemon juice and vanilla.

Briefly stir the yogurt to loosen it, then add it to the batter and mix on low speed just until combined.

Add the dry ingredients and fold gently with a spatula just until the flour is fully incorporated. Do not overmix.

Transfer the batter to the prepared pan and smooth the surface. Run a buttered knife lightly through the center to encourage an even crack.

Bake for 45–55 minutes, until golden and a skewer inserted into the center comes out clean or with a few moist crumbs.

Let the cake rest in the pan for 15 minutes, then lift it out and cool completely on a rack.

For the glaze, place the icing sugar in a bowl. Add most of the lemon juice, holding some back, and stir to a thick but pourable consistency.

Once the cake is fully cool, place it on a rack with parchment underneath. Pour the glaze down the center, letting it settle and drip naturally over the sides. You can gently tilt the cake to help it spread.

Leave at room temperature until the glaze sets, about 45 minutes. If needed, 15 minutes in the fridge will set it faster.

If the cake is already glazed, you can keep it loosely covered at room temperature for a day or refrigerate it for a few days, but the glaze will lose its clean finish and soften. If not serving the same day, store the cake wrapped airtight at room temperature or in the fridge, keep the glaze refrigerated in a sealed container, and pour it over just before serving.

Kitchen Notes

Dark nonstick loaf pans bake hotter and give deeper color. If using a light aluminum pan, increase the oven temperature slightly to 175°C or allow for a slightly longer bake.

It’s just honey, chilies, and aromatics, left alone for a few days. The honey softens, the heat settles in, and everything rounds out quietly.

I often make it planning to turn it into butter later on. But it’s just as useful kept as is, used a spoonful at a time.

Fermented Chili Honey

INGREDIENTS:

3 whole dried chilies or 4 fresh red chilies
3 garlic cloves
1 small red onion
2 sprigs thyme
2 sprigs rosemary
300-350 ml honey (enough to fully submerge)

METHOD

Place the chilies, garlic, onion, thyme, and rosemary in a clean, sterilised glass jar. Pack gently; do not crush or bruise the aromatics.

Pour over the honey until all the solids are fully submerged. At first it may look like there isn’t quite enough honey. Give it a few minutes, then stir gently and tap the jar on the counter to help everything settle. The honey will sink, the vegetables will soften slightly, and the level will even out. Add more honey only if needed.

Seal the jar loosely and keep it at room temperature, ideally somewhere between 18–22°C and out of direct light.

Once a day, open the jar briefly to release any built-up gas. Gently stir or tilt the jar to make sure everything remains submerged. Nothing should be sitting above the surface of the honey.

After 48 hours, taste. At this stage the honey should be aromatic, lightly spicy, and just beginning to show acidity. For more depth and roundness, continue fermenting for up to five days, tasting daily. Stop when the balance of heat, sweetness, and acidity feels right to you.

At this point, you can keep the honey as is, or you can strain it.

Once ready, seal the jar tightly and refrigerate. The flavour will continue to mellow, but fermentation will slow significantly.

Stored in the fridge, it keeps well for 2–3 months. If you ever see mould on the surface, discard the batch.

Kitchen Notes

Red onion is optional. It adds a deeper, more savoury edge, which can be great in some contexts. If you’re planning to use this mostly with eggs, toast, yogurt, or butter, you may prefer to leave it out. Try both and see where it fits in your kitchen.

Make sure the herbs are washed and fully dried before adding them. If using dried chilies, rinse briefly and pat dry to remove surface dust.

The most important thing is keeping everything submerged. If solids sit exposed to air for extended periods, mould can occasionally develop. A gentle stir or tilt now and then usually prevents this.

How to Use It

I think of this fermented chili honey as a seasoning rather than a condiment.

A small spoon stirred into a simple vinaigrette with lemon or vinegar, olive oil, and salt works beautifully with bitter greens, radicchio, endive, turnips, or shaved cabbage.

A few drops over roasted vegetables go a long way, especially with some crumbled cheese and toasted nuts.

It’s excellent with eggs. Just a little over fried or over-easy eggs, with olive oil and flaky salt, works best when there’s a crisp edge and a runny yolk to balance the sweetness.

And it’s very good with cheese: beyaz peynir, feta, goat cheese, halloumi, baked brie, even grilled cheese, either inside or brushed on top.

Fermented Chili Honey Butter

INGREDIENTS:

100 g unsalted butter
2 tsp fermented chili honey
A generous pinch of salt

METHOD

This is the most natural place this honey ends up in my kitchen.

I let the butter soften first, until it’s fully relaxed and easy to work with. If the fermented honey contains solids, I either purée it until smooth or strain it. You want everything to integrate easily into the fat.

The honey goes into the butter gradually, a little at a time, with a generous pinch of salt. I taste as I go. The goal isn’t sweetness; it’s balance. The butter should taste savoury first, with heat and sweetness following quietly behind. If it feels too forward, a squeeze of lemon usually brings it back into line.

Once it tastes right, I spoon it onto parchment paper or stretch film, roll it into a compact log, and chill it until firm. From there it can be sliced into coins or frozen in small moulds.

This butter is especially good melted over corn or potatoes, used to finish roasted vegetables, or simply spread on warm toast with flaky salt.

This is a smooth leek soup with potato for body and orange added at the end.

The leek-potato base is classic for good reason. Leeks have that gentle allium sweetness, and potato provides body without heaviness. Blended smooth, it becomes silky in a way that feels almost indulgent but stays light.

The orange goes in after cooking, off the heat, so it stays bright and clean.

Nothing stands out. The texture is smooth, the flavor is calm, the finish is fresh.

Leek and Potato Soup with Orange

Serves 4

INGREDIENTS:

200 g leeks, sliced crosswise into 2 cm pieces
150 g spring onions, sliced crosswise into 2 cm pieces
1 medium potato, peeled and diced
½ onion, chopped
700 ml vegetable or chicken stock
1 tsp orange zest
1 tbsp fresh orange juice
Salt and freshly ground white pepper, to taste

Garnish:
4 fresh parsley sprigs, chopped
2 tbsp olive oil

METHOD:

In a medium saucepan, heat a drizzle of olive oil over low heat. Add the leeks, spring onions, and onion with a pinch of salt, stirring occasionally. Sweat gently for 6-8 minutes until soft and fragrant, without browning, to bring out their natural sweetness.

Add the diced potato and pour in the vegetable stock. Bring to a gentle boil, then reduce the heat, cover, and let it simmer for 30 minutes until all vegetables are tender.

Stir in the orange zest and juice, cover and let it infuse off the heat for 5–10 minutes.

Blend the soup in a high-speed blender until completely smooth. For a velvety texture, strain through a fine sieve or chinois. If needed, adjust the consistency with a splash of warm stock.

Ladle the soup into bowls, drizzle with olive oil and garnish with chopped parsley.

The classic whole chicken + vegetables + soup method is great for families or weekends. In a typical home kitchen, you boil the bird for soup. In a Turkish kitchen, we take it a step further, using the leftover shredded meat and the reserved liquid to make tavuk pilav. It’s a classic cycle of efficiency, and it works.

But if you’re cooking for yourself, and you don’t want to be managed by a mountain of leftover chicken meat, there’s another way.

There is a fundamental difference between a stock made from a whole chicken and a stock made with intention. Especially in winter, I make stock because I want stock.

The gelatinous stock is the technician’s choice. By using high-collagen parts like wings and feet (if you can find them), you create a liquid that actually changes the physics of your food. When cold, it’s a solid jelly. When hot it has a lip-smacking richness that acts as a natural emulsion. It makes sauces glossy and gives everything it touches a certain weight and presence. It’s about mouthfeel as much as flavor.

Then, there is the classic whole-bird stock. This is the one you make for elegance and clarity. It’s light, aromatic, and especially in winter it feels medicinal. In Turkey, if you’re sick, someone brings you chicken soup. No one asks why; we just know.

A great chicken stock is not about flavoring the water.

It is about extracting gelatin cleanly from the right parts of the chicken.

Gelatinous chicken stock

INGREDIENTS:

3 kg chicken wings, necks, feet or frames
3 large onions, halved
2 large leeks, white and pale green only, coarsely chopped
2 celery, coarsely chopped
3 large carrots, coarsely chopped
Thumb sized ginger, sliced, optional
Aromatics: 1 Bay leaf + fresh thyme + peppercorns + parsley stems
4-5 litres cold filtered water

What I use at home
If you do not butcher chickens, or can’t find feet or necks, you can buy extra wings. Ask your butcher to remove breasts and thighs for cooking and use the rest (carcass and wings) for the stock.

METHOD

Soak bones in cold running water for 30 minutes before cooking to remove all traces of blood.

Place the chicken parts in a large pot and cover fully with cold water.

Bring slowly to 85–90 °C over medium-low heat. This will take at least 45 minutes. Never boil.

As the liquid approaches a simmer, skim the surface a couple of times to remove the scum. Do not stir if you want your stock to stay clear.

It’s much easier to skim thoroughly when the pot contains only chicken. Once the liquid is clean, add the vegetables and aromatics.

If you want to rescue some wing meat, lift the wings about 30 minutes after the pot reaches a gentle simmer, then return the bones to the pot.

Maintain the same gentle temperature, uncovered, for 3–4 hours. The surface should show only an occasional bubble.

Always keep your bones and vegetables fully submerged. If needed, top up with boiling water.

Taste. It should be deeply chicken-forward, slightly sweet, clean, and restrained.

Remove from heat and let settle for 20 minutes.

To strain, do not pour the pot through a sieve. Use a ladle to gently move the liquid through a chinois lined with a damp muslin cloth or coffee filter.

Cool rapidly and refrigerate. When cold, it should wobble.

Once the stock is fully chilled, the fat will rise and set into a solid cap. You can lift it off easily with a spoon or use a fat separator after straining.

Classic homemade chicken stock

INGREDIENTS:

1 whole chicken (1.5–2 kg)
1 onion, coarsely chopped
2 leeks, coarsely chopped
3 celery stalks, coarsely chopped
Thumb-sized ginger, sliced
Aromatics: 1 Bay leaf, fresh thyme, peppercorns, parsley stems
Peel of 1 tomato, only in summer, optional
Cold water, to cover

METHOD

Place the whole chicken and vegetables in a large pot and cover with cold water.

Bring up very slowly to a gentle simmer, skimming as foam rises. Once the pot reaches a bare simmer, start timing.

After 45–60 minutes at a gentle simmer, the chicken will be cooked through but not falling apart. Lift the whole chicken out carefully and let it cool slightly.

Remove the usable meat. Reserve for soups, salads, chicken rice, or other dishes.

Return the carcass, skin, bones, and connective tissue to the pot. Add the aromatics.

Continue simmering for 1½–2½ hours more. Strain and cool.

How to Use It

- Cook rice and grains like bulgur, barley, farro, freekeh with it
- A few tablespoons to finish vegetables
- A splash in the pan instead of water to create a pan sauce
- Use in braises and stews and soups
⁃ Simple brothy meals

Every cuisine has a green sauce. Sometimes it’s chopped by hand, sometimes pounded, sometimes blended smooth. Chimichurri, salsa verde, gremolata, pistou, zhoug, herbed yogurt, green chutney. Different names, different ratios, same instinct.

A green sauce restores balance. Cooked food, especially grilled or roasted food, loves contrast. It brings freshness to rich dishes, gives direction to simple ones, and makes plates feel finished.

This is the version I keep coming back to. Not because it is traditional or fixed, but because it is adaptable. The herbs change with the season. The texture depends on how you cut it.

Once you understand the recipe, you stop following it and start building the sauce from what you have and love. That is when it becomes something you actually use, not just something you make once.

A Simple Herb Sauce

Makes 1 cup

INGREDIENTS:

70 g herbs of choice (parsley, cilantro, mint, tarragon, chives, basil)
15 g capers, rinsed, drained, and very finely chopped
1 small garlic clove (or ½ large), crushed to a paste
5 g (1 tsp) Dijon mustard
20 ml fresh lemon juice
10 ml (2 tsp) red or white wine vinegar
100 ml extra-virgin olive oil
Fine sea salt
Freshly cracked black pepper
½ anchovy fillet, rinsed, drained and mashed to a paste

METHOD

Pile the herbs on a board and finely chop with a sharp knife.

Transfer the herbs to a bowl and fold in the capers, garlic paste, and anchovy paste, if using.

Add the Dijon mustard, lemon juice, and vinegar. While stirring continuously, drizzle in the olive oil in a thin stream. The sauce should become glossy, not thick or creamy.

Finish with salt and freshly ground black pepper.

Allow the sauce to rest for 10–15 minutes before serving so the flavors can come together.

Refrigerate in a sealed container for up to 3 days. Bring to room temperature and stir before using.

To keep the color vibrant, press plastic wrap directly onto the surface of the sauce.

Make or Break

You can use a mortar and pestle or a blender. Knife or mortar gives brightness and texture. A blender creates a more emulsified and spoonable texture. If blending, pulse briefly so you stay in control of the texture.

Add acid before oil so the acid can penetrate and sharpen the greens. Oil coats the herbs. Once coated, acid can no longer penetrate. Acid opens the door. Oil locks it in.

How to Use It

– With grilled chicken, lamb, steak or fish
– Over roasted vegetables
– With omelets
– Swirled into yogurt or labneh
– As a cold sauce for raw vegetables
– Excellent with lentils, chickpeas, or white beans

A kitchen is only as good as its foundations. Most people think “cooking” requires an hour at the stove, but sometimes, it’s just about having the right high-impact elements ready to go. This Dukkah is one of those timeless pieces for me.

Originally from Egypt, it’s a blend that bridges the gap between a snack and a meal. I’ve leaned into my own pantry for this version, using pul biber and sumac for that sharp, bright finish. It turns a simple bowl of olive oil into a centerpiece, and a roasted carrot into a deliberate, thought-about plate.

The beauty of a mix like this is that it does the heavy lifting for you. You aren’t just adding salt; you’re adding toasted oils, warmth from the cumin, and a structural crunch that changes how a dish feels. It’s not about complexity. It’s about having something earthy and bright within reach so you don’t have to work as hard later. It is the ultimate shortcut for when you want a meal to feel finished without actually having to cook.

Dukkah

Makes 1 cup

INGREDIENTS:

60 g raw hazelnuts
25 g white sesame seeds
12 g coriander seeds
6 g cumin seeds
3 g sumac
2 g pul biber
2 g black peppercorns
2 g salt, to taste

EQUIPMENT

– Heavy-bottomed pan
– Kitchen towel
– Flat tray for cooling
– Mortar and pestle (or a high-speed blender)
– Airtight glass jar

METHOD

Toast the hazelnuts in a cold and dry pan over medium heat, shaking the pan often, until lightly golden and fragrant. While still warm, rub them in a kitchen towel vigorously to remove most of the skins. Set aside to cool completely.

In the same pan, toast the coriander seeds, cumin seeds, and peppercorns until fragrant, about 1 minute. Add the sesame seeds and toast for another 30–60 seconds, just until lightly colored. Remove from the heat.

Spread everything out on a cold tray and let cool fully.

Grind the toasted spices with the salt to a coarse powder. Transfer to a bowl. Crush the hazelnuts to a coarse crumb and add them to the bowl along with the sesame seeds, pul biber, and sumac. Toss to combine.

If using a blender, pulse the hazelnuts first to a coarse crumb. Add the toasted spices, sesame seeds, pul biber, sumac, and salt, then pulse briefly until textured and cohesive. Stop before it turns fine. Taste and adjust salt.

Store in an airtight jar for 3 weeks in the pantry or up to 2 months in the fridge. Bring to room temperature before using.

Make or Break

Use a pan you trust and know how to handle. These nuts and seeds are delicate, they go from perfectly toasted to burned in an instant. Stay close, keep them moving, and don't be afraid to adjust the flame. No one wants to start over because they walked away for thirty seconds.

This is where the texture is decided. Move the seeds to a cold tray immediately after toasting, if they sit in the hot pan, they’ll keep cooking until they burn. More importantly, let everything cool completely before you touch them with a mortar or a blender. If you rush it while they’re warm, you’re just trapping steam, and you’ll end up loosing the crunch.

How to Use It

– Dip good bread into olive oil, then into dukkah.
– Sprinkle over soft-boiled or fried eggs.
– Finish roasted vegetables just before serving.
– Spoon over labneh or thick yogurt with a little olive oil.
– Use as a final seasoning for grilled fish, chicken, or lamb.
– Scatter over tomatoes, avocado, or sliced cucumbers with oil and salt.

There are a few things I always want to have in the fridge. Yogurt is one of them.

Real yogurt is alive. It’s full of flavor, full of bacteria, full of memory.

In Turkish homes, yogurt is not a side dish, it’s a staple. You eat it by the spoon, fold it into meze, drop it cold into hot soup. You use it daily, and then you use it again to make the next batch. Yogurt becomes its own ritual. It passes itself forward.

Making yogurt teaches slowness. It’s a small, grounding act that repeats itself. Like sourdough, but much easier.

I like mine creamy, spoonable, rich. I strain it until it holds shape a bit. I use raw milk and I make it once a week. It doesn’t take much effort. It almost makes itself. You just have to be there for the beginning.

In Turkish homes, yogurt is part of the flow. You boil the milk, you let it cool, you stir in a spoonful from the last batch. You cover it, leave it alone overnight, and in the morning, it’s set. You chill it to let the texture settle. Then you strain it, if you’re like me, for another 8 to 12 hours. Thick, but not dry. Creamy, but not whipped. Then you repeat.

What I love most is that it carries itself forward. The next week, you use a spoonful from this batch to make the next. That’s the part that gets me every time—it continues. There’s something beautiful about that.

This is how I make mine.

Home-made Yogurt

INGREDIENTS:

3 liters fresh whole milk

3 tablespoons plain yogurt with live active cultures (full-fat, unsweetened)

EQUIPMENT

– Heavy-bottomed stainless steel pot, güveç pot, or any thick, non-reactive pot
– Cheesecloth or fine muslin
– Cooking thermometer
– Fine mesh strainer or colander
– Large bowl
– Whisk or spoon
– Jars

METHOD

Start with the best quality full-fat milk you can find. Pour the raw milk through a cheesecloth or fine sieve to remove any dust or residue. Clean milk makes clean yogurt.

I usually lay a dry wooden spoon across the top of the pot while the milk is heating. It’s a classic kitchen trick to stop the milk from boiling over. If your heat is high and you just forget, the milk will win, but it buys you a few extra seconds to turn down the heat before things get messy. It’s one of those small rituals that makes the whole process feel right, almost like a blessing.

Pour the milk into your pot and slowly heat it to 90–95°C, stirring occasionally to prevent scorching.

Once it reaches temperature, keep it at a gentle simmer for about 5-10 minutes.

Let the milk cool to 43–45°C. You can leave it on the counter or place the pot in an ice bath to bring the temperature down faster. If there is no thermometer nearby, use the finger test. It should feel warm but not hot enough to sting.

Take a small bowl and whisk two tablespoons of plain yogurt with a little of the warm milk. This tempers the starter so it blends smoothly. Pour that back into the main pot and stir gently.

Leave the mixture in the pot to ferment as one large batch. I prefer this because I strain my yogurt later to get that thick, velvety texture. If you prefer grab-and-go portions and don't plan on straining, pour the prepared milk into clean glass jars.

Cover the pot with a clean kitchen towel instead of a lid. Lids trap steam and make the yogurt watery.

In winter, preheat the oven to 50°C, then turn it off completely and leave the oven light on. Place the covered pot inside, usually overnight. If the kitchen is cold, let it ferment for up to 12–14 hours. In the summer, 6–8 hours is usually enough.

Once it sets, put it in the fridge for a few hours to firm up. For thick and creamy yogurt, strain it through a muslin cloth for another 6 to 12 hours hours in the fridge.

Line a colander with cheesecloth, place it over a bowl, and pour in the chilled yogurt.

You can also experiment by combining different types of milk, buffalo, goat, sheep, depending on what’s available where you live. Each one brings its own texture and flavor.

And always save a few tablespoons from your best batch to use as your next starter. Yogurt keeps going. That’s the beauty of it.

What to Do with Yogurt Whey

The liquid left over from straining is acid whey. It is full of protein and good bacteria. Keep it in a jar in the fridge for up to two weeks or freeze it in ice trays for six months.

If the smell becomes unpleasantly sour or you see mold, toss it. Use it to replace water in bread or pancake dough for better flavor. It also makes a great brine for chicken or a flavor booster for soups and stews. It also makes a great brine for chicken or a natural kickstarter for fermented pickles.

When I think about breakfasts I actually stick to, week after week, chia pudding is always one of them. It is a quiet staple.

You can make it the night before and portion it out for two or three days. It is as simple or as considered as you want it to be, and the toppings decide the direction. Keep it effortless for weekdays or make it a little more intentional on a Sunday.

Below is the foundation I return to most often, along with a matcha–pineapple variation.

The difference between a basic pudding and a great one is treating it like a custard.

For the base, I like to blend full-fat coconut milk with a lighter nut milk. It gives you a much richer, creamier result. Flavor the milk before adding the seeds. Warm it gently with aromatics to allow the oils to release slowly. Once strained and fully chilled, the milk carries far more depth than if you were to add flavoring at the end.

Chia Pudding

Serves 2-4

THE RATIO:

50g chia seeds to 500ml liquid + tiny pinch of salt.

METHOD

Add the seeds gradually while stirring so they don’t clump. Stir again after about ten minutes, once the seeds begin to swell. If possible, repeat this 2–3 more times for a uniform, caviar-like texture.

Once the pudding is set, fold in a dollop of thick, strained yogurt for a mousse-like lift.

Chia pudding is best kept cold. It keeps well in the refrigerator for two to three days. A quick stir before serving loosens the texture and brings it back to life.

Ways to Finish It

Infuse the milk

Rose water or mastic
Crushed coffee beans
Cinnamon stick, cloves, star anise, cardamom
Fresh ginger or turmeric
Citrus peel
Aromatic herbs
Tea leaves
Vanilla
Tonka Bean
Raw cacao, whisked in cold
Matcha, whisked in cold

Top with

Seasonal fruits…
Macerated berries with lemon and sugar
Sautéed apple or pear with cinnamon
Fresh orange segments with honey and mint
Pineapple with matcha-infused pudding
Dukkah, for a savory-sweet edge
Toasted coconut flakes
Toasted seeds or nuts
Nut butter
Tahini with pekmez
A fine thread of olive oil and flaky sea salt

Pineapple matcha chia parfait

Serves 4

INGREDIENTS:

250 ml yogurt
250 ml unsweetened almond milk
1 teaspoon (about 2g) high-quality matcha powder
50 g chia seeds
30 ml agave syrup or honey
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
A pinch of salt

Fruit Puree:
300 g pineapple, cut into small cubes or pureed
1 teaspoon honey (or agave)
Pinch of salt
Lime zest or a squeeze of lime

METHOD:

Start by making the matcha base. Sift the matcha into a small bowl. Add 2–3 tablespoons of the almond milk and whisk until completely smooth.

In a larger bowl, whisk the yogurt with the remaining almond milk, sweetener, vanilla, and a pinch of salt until smooth. Whisk in the matcha slurry until the color is even throughout.

Sprinkle in the chia seeds gradually while whisking. Switch to a spatula and stir thoroughly, scraping the sides and bottom to make sure the seeds are evenly distributed. Let stand for 10 minutes, then stir again. Repeat this two to three times as the mixture begins to thicken.

Cover and chill for at least 4 hours, ideally overnight. Stir once more before serving to loosen the texture if needed.

Meanwhile, toss the pineapple with a tiny pinch of salt and a little honey (and lime, if using). Let it sit for 10–15 minutes until juicy and lightly glossy. Leave as is, or purée for a smoother finish.

A note on the photo: In the version pictured here, I’ve used a local Bodrum Tangerine purée. It’s made without added sugar, simply boiled down to concentrate the fruit like a marmalade. If you are in the area, you can find it at Bodrum Yadigarı; it’s a small local producer I love to support.

To serve, layer the chia pudding with your fruit of choice in glasses.

This recipe starts with crispy rice, but it’s really about contrast. A deep, golden crust with something sharp and creamy on top. The rice needs time to chill, the oil needs to be properly hot, and once things start frying you have to trust the process and leave it alone. When it works, the rice holds together perfectly and turns properly golden and crisp. The shrimp are quick and warm, folded into a chili-lime sauce that cuts straight through the crunch.

It’s also a very good recipe to make with other people. The rice can be pressed and sliced ahead, the shrimp cook in minutes, and everything comes together at the last moment. Jobs are easy to hand off, the kitchen stays relaxed, and you end up eating while things are still hot and crisp.

We served this as the centre of a dinner with friends and it held the table. Alongside it, a crunchy, Asian-leaning slaw, all shredded vegetables and sharp dressing, built for contrast. There was fish too, one marinated in miso, another simply steamed and finished with ginger and scallions. Clean, focused flavours, plenty of texture, and this right in the middle. Crispy rice, warm shrimp, heat, acidity. The kind of food people keep reaching for.

This dish is often made with raw tuna or salmon, which requires sushi-grade fish. Here, it’s finished with warm chili shrimp instead.

Crispy Rice with Chili Shrimp

Serves 6-8

INGREDIENTS

For the crispy rice:
300 g sushi rice
360 ml water
30 ml rice vinegar
18 g sugar
6 g fine sea salt
Avocado oil, for frying

For the shrimp:
350 g medium shrimp, peeled and deveined
15 ml olive oil
Fine sea salt

Chili-lime sauce:
60 g (4 tablespoons) mayonnaise
18 g (1 tablespoon) sriracha
14 g (1 tablespoon) mirin
10 g (2 teaspoons) soy sauce or tamari
1 teaspoons toasted sesame oil
14–16 g (1 tablespoon) fresh lime juice
Splash of rice vinegar

To finish:
Spring onions or chives, very finely sliced
White or black sesame seeds
Fresh chili slices
Nori sheets, cut into strips
Half an avocado, thinly sliced

METHOD

Wash the rice gently but properly. Cold water, swirl with your hand, drain. Repeat 3–4 times. You’re not looking for clear water — just no longer milky.

Drain well, then let the rice sit in its measured cooking water for 20–30 minutes.

Cook the rice covered. Bring it to a gentle boil, immediately lower the heat to the minimum, and cook for 10–12 minutes. Don’t stir. Don’t peek. When the time is up, turn the heat off and let it steam, still covered, for another 10–15 minutes.

While the rice cooks, warm the vinegar, sugar, and salt just until dissolved. No boiling. Let it cool slightly.

Transfer the rice to a wide bowl. Pour the seasoning evenly over the surface — not in one spot. Mix by slicing and folding with a spatula, not stirring. Fan the rice as you work to cool it quickly.

Line a small tray with plastic wrap, leaving overhang. Spread the rice into an even layer about 2 cm thick. Press it down firmly with wet hands or the back of a spoon. Fold the plastic over the top and press again. This step matters more than it seems. Refrigerate at least 2–4 hours, ideally overnight, until completely cold and firm.

Once fully chilled, unwrap and cut the rice into neat rectangles.

Heat a pan over medium-high heat. Add enough avocado oil to generously coat the base. The oil should shimmer and feel hot — not lukewarm.

Fry the rice in batches without crowding. Place the pieces in and don’t touch them. Let them cook until deeply golden and crisp underneath, about 3–4 minutes, then flip carefully and cook the second side. They should release cleanly when ready. Drain briefly on paper towel and keep warm.

Wipe the pan lightly and return it to medium heat. Add the olive oil. Pat the shrimp very dry, season lightly with salt, and cook in a single layer, turning once, just until opaque and lightly golden. They should stay tender.

Whisk together the mayonnaise, sriracha, mirin, soy, sesame oil, lime juice, and rice vinegar. The sauce should be sharp, lightly spicy, and loose enough to coat.

While the shrimp are still warm, fold them gently into the sauce.

Arrange the crispy rice on a platter. Spoon the shrimp on top or alongside. Finish with spring onions, sesame seeds, fresh chili, avocado, and nori.

Make or Break

Crispy rice only works when the rice is fully cold. Not cool, not room temperature, but properly chilled and firm when you pick it up. Rice that is even slightly warm will relax in the oil and spread instead of holding its shape. This is why pressing matters. Pack the rice firmly and evenly into the tray, then chill it until it sets. Slice only once it is fully cold. You want clean edges that stay clean when they hit the oil. If the rice feels loose or fragile before frying, it will fall apart in the pan.

The oil needs to be hot enough that the rice sizzles immediately on contact. That first moment sets the crust. Once the rice is in the pan, leave it alone. Let the bottom turn fully golden before you flip it. Moving it too early is the quickest way to break it. If the crust is golden but the centre still feels soft, finish the pieces briefly in a hot oven.

Spring onions cooked very slowly in olive oil soften, sweeten, and lose their sharp edge. What’s left is something calm and versatile. Not quite a sauce, but something you reach for in the same way.

This is one of those small jars I keep in the fridge because it quietly makes everyday food better. This is best treated as a short-term fridge staple, not a long-term preserve. Airtight and refrigerated, they keep safely for up to 4 days.

Spring Onion Confit

Makes about 1 small jar

INGREDIENTS

1 bunch spring onions, cut into 2-3 cm pieces
5 fresh oregano or thyme sprigs
A few strips of lemon or orange peel
A pinch of salt
Extra virgin olive oil, enough to cover the onions
Optional flavors: lemon zest, ginger, a pinch of chili flakes

METHOD

Arrange the spring onions in a small, heavy pan or ovenproof dish. Scatter the herbs on top and add a pinch of salt. Pour in enough olive oil to fully cover the onions.

Set the pan over the lowest heat possible. Confit means barely bubbling, not sizzling. The oil should barely move. Let the onions soften and collapse slowly, about 45-55 minutes, until they’re tender enough to almost break when nudged with a spoon.

Alternatively, cook at 150°C for 50-60 minutes, loosely covered with foil for the first half of cooking, until silky and jammy. Let cool completely.

If you’re storing the onions and oil together, make sure the onions stay fully submerged. Airtight and refrigerated, they keep safely for up to 4 days.

If you prefer to strain the mixture after cooling, the clear, infused oil keeps up to 1 week refrigerated.

How I Use It

- Drizzle the oil over grilled chicken, turkey, or sourdough with labneh
- Spoon over basmati or buckwheat
- Stir into omelettes
- Toss with lentils, beans, or roasted potatoes
- Finish soups or whisk the oil into dressings
- Swirl into yogurt

This is a whole roasted cauliflower I make when I want something easy that still feels put together. It cooks covered first so it softens properly, then uncovered so it can take on a bit of colour.

It works on any night when you want one main thing on the table and don’t want to think about it too much. The salsa brings the salt and brightness, the beet yogurt adds something cool underneath, and the cauliflower does everything else.

Whole Roasted Cauliflower with Beet Yogurt and Herb Salsa

Serves 4-6

INGREDIENTS

1 whole medium-sized cauliflower
2 tbsp olive oil
1 tsp smoked paprika
1/2 tsp ground cumin
Salt
Freshly ground black pepper

Herb-Caper Salsa
2 tbsp capers, rinsed and chopped
1/4 cup parsley, finely chopped
1 tbsp mint, finely chopped
1 garlic clove, minced
4–5 tbsp olive oil
1 tbsp lemon juice
Zest of 1 lemon
1–2 tbsp cold water
Salt to taste
A small pinch chili flakes

Beet Yogurt Sauce
1/2 cup strained yogurt, room temperature
1 tbsp olive oil
1 small roasted beet (peeled and blended into a smooth puree)
1 tsp apple cider vinegar
1 tsp nigella seeds

METHOD

Heat the oven to 200°C. Trim the cauliflower but keep the core so it holds its shape. Rub it with olive oil, paprika, cumin, salt, and pepper.

Set it on a baking sheet or in a cast-iron pan. Wet a piece of baking paper, squeeze it out, and lay it directly over the cauliflower. Cover with foil and roast for 30 minutes. Check with a knife — it should slide in without resistance. Remove the foil and paper, then roast for another 20–30 minutes until the surface has taken on clear colour.

For the salsa, mix the capers, parsley, mint, garlic, olive oil, lemon juice, zest, and water. Season to taste and let it rest for 10 minutes.

For the beet yogurt, whisk the yogurt, olive oil, beet purée, vinegar, and salt until smooth.

To serve, spread the beet yogurt on a plate, set the cauliflower on top, and spoon the salsa over it.

When the air turns crisp and apples start piling up at the market, I crave bowls like this. Creamy oats cooked slowly with milk, topped with warm buttered apples and a streak of blackberry compote. It’s soft, tart, and golden. The kind of breakfast that feels like autumn itself.

Oatmeal is a blank canvas. You can make it rich with full milk, lighter with half milk and half water, or dairy-free with almond milk. It takes on whatever tone you give it. Here, the apples bring warmth, the berries keep it alive.

Fall Oatmeal with Apple & Blackberry

Serves 2

INGREDIENTS

120 g rolled oats
480 ml whole milk — or almond milk
¼ tsp fine sea salt
1 strip lemon peel (about 7 cm, no white pith)
1 tbsp date syrup or honey

Apples
2 small crisp apples, cut into 1 cm cubes
1 tbsp unsalted butter
1 tbsp light brown sugar
½ tsp ground cinnamon
Pinch fine sea salt

Blackberry Compote
150 g blackberries
1 tsp date syrup or brown sugar
1 tsp olive oil

To Finish
Greek yogurt
Fresh thyme or mint leaves
Drizzle of extra virgin olive oil

METHOD

Melt the butter in a medium sauté pan over medium heat. Add the apple cubes, date syrup, cinnamon, and a pinch of salt. Cover and cook 4–5 minutes, tossing occasionally, until the apples soften slightly and take on a light caramel glaze. Scoop out the apples and set aside.

Add the oats, milk, salt, lemon peel, and date syrup directly to the same pan. Bring to a gentle simmer and cook 10–12 minutes, stirring often, until creamy but still textured. Remove the lemon peel.

Fold in half the apples. Use the other half as topping.

In a small pan, combine blackberries and date syrup. Simmer gently over low heat for 3–4 minutes, just until some berries burst and the juices thicken slightly. Stir in olive oil for gloss. Keep warm.

Spoon the warm oatmeal into shallow bowls. Place a quenelle of strained yogurt on top. Scatter the reserved golden apple cubes. Add a ribbon of blackberry compote, letting the syrup bleed naturally through the yogurt and oats.

Finish with a drizzle of olive oil and a few thyme or mint leaves.

Kitchen Notes

- For a lighter oatmeal, you can do what my mom used to — grate the apple straight into the oats, add a bit of cinnamon, and skip the separate butter step altogether.

- Drizzle a little of your best olive oil on top. It gives a silky texture and keeps you full for longer.

Çılbır is one of those dishes that manages to be humble and divine at the same time. It’s basically poached eggs over garlicky yogurt, finished with a drizzle of hot butter infused with chili. Maybe a few fried sage leaves on top if you have them around. This is how I make mine in fall — simple, warm, and balanced.

Historically, çılbır goes back to the Ottoman palace kitchens. Yet it’s one of the simplest meals you can make at home. What makes it so enduring is its balance: sharp garlic against buttery chili, the richness of the yolk melting into the yogurt. Use the freshest eggs you can find, thick strained yogurt, and real pul biber.

There are countless ways to make it your own. At Changa restaurant in Istanbul, they used to tuck two slices of golden-seared halloumi beneath the egg. You can swap the spiced butter for nutty brown butter, crumble feta on top, or fold sautéed spinach into the yogurt for color and depth. I also love it topped with a small herb salad or drizzled with my Asian chili oil — the kind with ginger, garlic, and Sichuan peppercorns. Even a spoon of zough or a sprinkle of dukkah works beautifully for a bright, textured finish.

Çılbır with Yogurt, Sage Breadcrumbs and Chili Oil

Serves 2

INGREDIENTS

Yogurt Base
300 g strained yogurt (cold, thick)
1 small garlic clove, grated
1 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
Fine salt, to taste

Poached Eggs
2 fresh eggs
2 tbsp vinegar (for poaching water)
Fine salt

Chili Oil
60 g butter or 4 tbsp olive oil
1 tsp pul biber (Aleppo-style chili flakes)
½ tsp smoked paprika (optional)

Crispy Pastırma (optional)
6 slices of pastırma

Sage Breadcrumbs
100 g stale sourdough bread
2–3 tbsp olive oil (or mix with a little ghee)
3 tbsp finely chopped fresh sage
Sea salt and black pepper

For garnish
Fresh sage leaves or herbs of preference
Toasted bread or simit, to serve

METHOD

Cut your stale sourdough into small chunks and dry them in the oven at 120–140°C for about 20–30 minutes, until crisp but not browned. Let them cool, then blitz into medium crumbs. Toss the crumbs with olive oil and chopped sage, then toast in a pan over medium heat for 8–10 minutes, stirring often, until golden and crisp. Season with salt and pepper and let cool — they’ll get crunchier as they rest.

Combine the yogurt, grated garlic, olive oil, and a little salt in a bowl. Whisk until smooth and spread onto serving plates. Keep it at room temperature while you prepare the rest. You can gently loosen the yogurt with warm water or whisk it slightly so it’s smooth and fluid. But make sure it’s never fridge-cold.

Bring a saucepan of water to a gentle simmer and add vinegar and a pinch of salt. Crack each egg into a small bowl, then slide it carefully into the water. Poach for 2½–3 minutes, until just set but the yolks are still soft. Lift them out with a slotted spoon and drain briefly on paper towel.

If using pastırma, crisp the slices in a dry pan until golden, or bake at 180°C for 6–8 minutes until the edges crisp. Transfer to paper towel and let cool until brittle.

For the chili oil, heat the olive oil in a small pan until it shimmers. Add pul biber and smoked paprika, swirl once, and remove from heat. The color should deepen without burning.

Spoon the eggs over the yogurt. Drizzle the warm chili butter over, add the crispy pastırma if using, and finish with herbs or fried sage leaves. Serve immediately with toasted sourdough or simit.

Kitchen Notes

– Use room-temperature yogurt for a silkier texture.
– Pul biber burns easily — swirl off heat.
– Breadcrumbs keep crisp for 3 days in an airtight jar.

Everyone in Turkey grows up with some version of köfte. It’s the weeknight constant — fast, filling, endlessly adaptable. This one shifts the balance: sautéed leek instead of onion, a touch of turmeric for warmth, and sparkling mineral water to keep it soft. It’s not diet food, but it feels like a reset.

When I stopped eating out so much and started cooking for balance again, this became my anchor meal. I’d make a double batch, freeze half, and always have a clean, protein-rich option waiting. The tweak is small but smart: leek for sweetness, turmeric for calm, and a splash of cold mineral water to loosen everything. It’s a tiny move that makes the mixture light instead of dense, juicy instead of greasy.

It’s not nostalgic — it’s practical. The kind of food that quietly looks after you during the week.

Turmeric & Leek Meatballs

Makes 36 meatballs

INGREDIENTS

500 g medium-fat ground beef
½ bunch leek, finely sliced
4 spring onions, finely chopped
1 handful parsley, finely chopped
1 egg
75 ml sparkling water
1½ tsp ground turmeric
1½ tsp sumac
1 tsp ground cumin
½ tsp black pepper
1½ tsp salt
Olive oil, for cooking

METHOD

Trim the leeks, halve them lengthwise if thick, and slice finely. You want small, even pieces — fine enough to soften and mix through the meat, but still visible. Do the same with the spring onions.

Heat a small pan with a drizzle of olive oil and sauté the leeks gently until soft and sweet, about 5–7 minutes. Let cool completely.

In a large bowl, combine the ground beef, egg, cooled leeks, spring onion, parsley, turmeric, cumin, sumac, black pepper, and salt. Mix gently until just combined, don’t overwork the meat.

You can always add fresh turmeric or even ginger in the mix and sautéed with the leeks and spring onions for a deeper aroma.

Pour in the sparkling water and knead lightly for 3–4 minutes until the mixture feels cohesive but airy. The carbonation helps the meat hold moisture and stay soft once cooked.

Cover and refrigerate for 45 minutes to rest. This step firms up the mixture and improves texture.

Shape into small köfte, about walnut-sized. Heat a wide pan over medium heat, add a thin film of olive oil, and cook the meatballs in batches, turning often, until deep golden and cooked through — about 3–4 minutes per side. Keep the heat moderate so they sear gently rather than burn.

Serve warm, with a crisp salad and yogurt.

This is great to use on assembled plates or bowls as well. I love to combine it with hummus for extra protein, basmati rice, greens, home-made pickles and fresh or roasted vegetables.

Kitchen Notes

- Keeps 3 days in the fridge, or up to 2 months frozen (raw or cooked).

- Cooking from frozen: If you can, thaw them in the fridge overnight. If you forgot, just leave them out for about an hour at room temperature until they’re no longer rock solid. Heat a nonstick or cast-iron pan over medium heat with a bit of olive oil. Add the köfte and don’t crowd the pan. Let them brown gently on one side before you flip. No poking, no moving around. When both sides are golden and you can smell the leeks and onions coming alive again, turn the heat down low. Splash in a spoon of water, just a little, and put the lid on. The bit of steam will warm them through without drying them out. Give them three or four minutes. Drizzle a little olive oil or lemon juice on top if you want them to look fresh.

This is a fish dish that manages to be both light and indulgent. The kind of thing you’d expect at a seaside trattoria — fennel melting into tomato, briny olives and capers cutting through with brightness, and fish that cooks gently right in the sauce.

It’s a one-pan meal, but it tastes layered, like it took hours. The fish poaches in the sauce, so you don’t need any extra steps or tricks — just let the flavors build Mediterranean-style.

It feels special enough for guests, yet simple enough for a Tuesday. Perfect if you’re eating lighter or looking for high-protein meals that still feel abundant and comforting. Rustic enough for crusty bread at the table, elegant enough to serve in shallow bowls with a drizzle of olive oil and fennel fronds.

Sea Bass with Tomatoes, Olives, and Fennel

Serves 4

INGREDIENTS

2 skinless fillets of white fish (branzino, sea bass, dorade, or snapper), 180 g each
1 bulb fennel, thinly sliced
1 shallot, chopped
2 garlic cloves, finely minced
3 large tomatoes, grated
60 g (¼ cup) Kalamata or Niçoise olives, pitted and halved
2 tablespoons capers, rinsed
3 sprigs fresh thyme or oregano
¼ teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
60 ml (¼ cup) extra-virgin olive oil, plus more for finishing
120 ml (½ cup) dry white wine
Juice of half a lemon
Salt and freshly ground black or white pepper

METHOD

Pat the fish dry, cut the fillets into large pieces (about 8–10 cm) and leave covered at room temperature.

Warm the olive oil in a wide pan over medium heat. Add shallot and garlic, cook 2 minutes until soft and fragrant, not browned.

Stir in the fennel with a pinch of salt. Lower the heat and cook slowly, 8–10 minutes, until fully softened and translucent.

Raise the heat, pour in the wine. Reduce for 2–3 minutes until nearly dry.

Add tomato pulp, olives, capers, thyme, and red pepper flakes. Lower to medium-low and simmer uncovered for 20–25 minutes, stirring, until thick and jammy. Taste and adjust.

Reduce heat to low. Nestle fish into the sauce, spooning some over. Cover. Let the fish poach gently — 5 minutes for thin fillets, up to 8 for thicker ones — until opaque and just flaking. Remove from the heat and let rest 2 minutes.

Spoon sauce into warm shallow plates, top with fish. Serve at once with crusty bread or a salad.

Kitchen Notes

• If fresh fennel isn’t available, you can substitute it with 1 teaspoon of fennel seeds. Toast the seeds gently in the olive oil with the shallot and garlic to release their aromatic oils.

• You can add a few saffron threads bloomed in warm water for a floral note. Stir them into the sauce before adding the fish.

• Fennel fronds will make a great minimal garnish here.

Most summers I make a batch of jammy tomatoes and another of roasted peppers. They last in the fridge, they go with everything, and they make meals feel more thought-through than they actually are.

Meals come together faster when the fridge holds a few high-impact elements. Think of them as flavor components — not full dishes, but building blocks. Having one or two flavorful elements on hand makes anything you plate feel composed, layered, and more delicious than the work you put in right now. Good bread, a piece of cheese, or a handful of herbs are often all you need to turn them into a meal.

These two — jammy roasted tomatoes and roasted, marinated peppers — are what I return to most summers. They make soft cheese feel like a composed dish. They’re perfect spooned over eggs or tucked into a meze plate.

Jammy Cherry Tomatoes

Preheat the oven to 135 °C. Halve 500 g cherry tomatoes and place them in a lightly oiled ceramic or enameled dish. Add four smashed garlic cloves (skins on) and a few sprigs of thyme. Drizzle with olive oil, season with salt and black pepper, and toss gently until coated.

Arrange the tomatoes cut side up. Roast for 2–3 hours until collapsed, glossy, and sticky at the edges. In the last hour, whisk pomegranate molasses with olive oil (1:2 ratio) and drizzle over.

Once out of the oven, finish with flaky salt, a thread more olive oil, and a pinch of pul biber. Serve warm or at room temperature.

Kitchen Notes:

– The skins keep the tomatoes intact and help them jam in texture. If you prefer, slip them off while still warm.

– Keeps 4–5 days in the fridge with a little extra oil added for storage.

– Serve with burrata, whipped ricotta, or feta. Spoon onto grains, fold through couscous, or add to a cheese plate.

– Save the garlic and thyme from the tray — they’re full of flavor.

Roasted and Marinated Peppers

Preheat the oven to 135 °C. Halve 500 g cherry tomatoes and place them in a lightly oiled ceramic or enameled dish. Add four smashed garlic cloves (skins on) and a few sprigs of thyme. Drizzle with olive oil, season with salt and black pepper, and toss gently until coated.

Arrange the tomatoes cut side up. Roast for 2–3 hours until collapsed, glossy, and sticky at the edges. In the last hour, whisk pomegranate molasses with olive oil (1:2 ratio) and drizzle over.

Once out of the oven, finish with flaky salt, a thread more olive oil, and a pinch of pul biber. Serve warm or at room temperature.

Kitchen Notes:

– Keeps 7–10 days in the fridge. Always keep submerged in oil and use a clean utensil.

– Mash into labneh, goat cheese, or ricotta with lemon zest → spread on grilled sourdough.

– Toss with buckwheat, cucumbers, feta, olives, herbs → finish with lemon.

– Serve with chickpeas, cherry tomatoes, arugula and a lemony tahini sauce.

– Spoon over a French omelette with crumbled feta, parsley, and nigella seeds.

There’s a soft clinking in the background as she speaks—glass on porcelain, the lull of an afternoon kitchen. My grandmother, born in 1928, adjusts the lace edge of the tablecloth as if still expecting guests. She hasn’t hosted a formal diplomatic dinner in years, but the instinct never left.

She was the first wife of İlter Türkmen, one of Turkey’s most respected diplomats, a man who served as foreign minister and as ambassador in cities that defined the twentieth century: Paris, New York, Moscow, Athens.

At ninety-seven, her voice still carries clarity. Over slices of cold karpuz in the summer light, I’ve been recording her—capturing not just recipes, but reflections.

Her eye for the table began early. She remembered watching her mother-in-law serve beyin salatası on a silver tray nearly a meter long: three small pieces arranged simply, then brought to life with garnish—leaves, vegetables, pickles, a sauce that gave the plate movement. It wasn’t just food anymore, it was presentation. That was the moment she realized plating could transform the ordinary into something memorable. From then on, she never saw a dish as only a dish.

When I asked her, “How do you set a beautiful table?” she didn’t mention linens or menus. She said simply: “The guest list decides. The seating plan sets the mood.” Around her table came diplomats and politicians, but also artists, musicians, and poets—a mix that made each dinner as much about exchange as it was about eating.

Su böreği was the star—paper-thin layers, hand-rolled, filled with delicacies, a dish that looked as impressive as it tasted. Çerkez tavuğu came with depth: tender chicken, walnuts pounded by hand, bread soaked in broth until soft, finished with a dusting of red pepper. And always imam bayıldı, so beloved that Iranians once had it flown back to Tehran. In her memory, Turkish cuisine wasn’t just nourishment—it was a form of diplomacy.

Pilav shifted with the season: chestnuts in winter, tomatoes in summer, almonds when the table needed polish. She didn’t cook much herself, but she worked closely with chefs, absorbing knowledge with the clarity of someone who had eaten in the best dining rooms of Europe. Her instinct was always aesthetic: what belonged, what didn’t, what jarred the eye.

The tulip plates were an extension of that discipline. She didn’t keep them for herself. She bought them in Moscow in the 1970s, where Hungarian Herend porcelain was in high demand, and had them shipped to Istanbul for my mother. It was a gesture that said: the details matter, pass them on.

The tulip plates weren’t the only porcelain with a story. On the shelves stood a full Sèvres service with its pink borders unmistakable. It came into the house through family lines, passed down from her aunt’s husband, Hamdi Bey. Where the tulip plates were chased down in Moscow, this set arrived by inheritance, carrying its own lineage into the household. Next to them were parsley-patterned Beykoz glasses, handblown and fine. Together they formed another kind of archive, objects kept as vessels of memory and beauty.

If my grandmother’s gift was atmosphere, my mother’s was translation—turning what she grew up with into something clear, modern, and shareable. Lale Apa became a publisher and writer, founding The Guide magazines, English-language guides that gave locals and travelers curated access to Turkey’s food, culture, and design long before smartphones. Her cookbooks mirrored that ethos: Mediterranean-leaning Turkish favorites and international recipes explained with clarity, made practical for home kitchens. She believed food could be modern, light, and inviting—and she showed readers how. Like the tulip plates, her work lives on.

Dishes to Remember

She wasn’t a cook in the everyday sense—she directed her chefs with precision, but it was her eye for style and presentation that made the meals unforgettable. She knew how to wow her guests with Turkish classics, reimagined for diplomatic tables abroad. These were the dishes most often favored and requested, the ones that gave her tables their lasting character:

• Su böreği – Impressive centerpiece; Athens with lobster and cheese, Paris with foie gras.

• Çerkez tavuğu – Classic dish of chicken, walnuts, stale bread, red pepper.

• İmam bayıldı – So beloved it was once flown to Tehran.

• Kuru fasulye + pilav – Turkish comfort food duo.

• Pilav in variation – şehriyeli pilav, chicken pilav, iç pilav (with liver, grapes, pine nuts), almond pilav, eggplant pilav, perdeli pilav, tomato pilav.

• Baklava – surely

• Domates Pilaki – a summer dish

• Hanım göbeği, ekmek kadayıfı, aşure – Traditional desserts appreciated by guests.

• Kestaneli pilav (French not Turkish), lahana dolması – Festive seasonal luxuries.

Imagine a summer table in Istanbul: plates glistening with olive oil, vegetables or fish sweetened by garlic. Among the meze, pilaki sits quietly, but it carries centuries. Introduced through Aegean kitchens and embraced in Ottoman Istanbul, pilaki became the essence of the zeytinyağlı tradition: vegetables cooked gently in olive oil, served cool, and made for sharing.

Tomatoes were not part of the first pilaki. Those early versions relied on olive oil, onions, garlic, and spices. The tomato version only appeared once the fruit became common in the 19th century. This is domates pilaki, where the tomato takes center stage. Some cooks use green tomatoes or add rice to bind the sauce.

Ours is the stripped-back, simple one: ripe summer tomatoes, slow cooking, nothing extra. Just peeled tomatoes, onions, and garlic simmered until soft and sweet. The key is patience: low heat, so the tomatoes soften but don’t collapse.

A standout pilaki leaves the taste of olive oil on the palate without greasiness. The sauce must rest overnight if possible to deepen and thicken, the oil glinting like amber on the surface.

For us, pilaki is more than summer cooking. It’s a dish that returns each year, always plated on my mother’s tulip-patterned porcelain.

An heirloom once carried across continents, now set quietly on our table. Both the plates and the pilaki remind us how food holds memory.

Domates Pilaki

Serves 6

INGREDIENTS

6 ripe tomatoes (about 800 g), peeled and sliced into crescents
2 medium onions (200 g), halved and thinly sliced
4 garlic cloves, thinly sliced
1–2 tsp date syrup, to taste
Juice of half a lemon
80 ml good-quality olive oil
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
A small handful of fresh mint, finely sliced
20 ml extra virgin olive oil, to finish

METHOD

Warm 80 ml olive oil in a wide Dutch oven or sauté pan over low heat. Add the onions and garlic with a pinch of salt. Cook slowly, stirring now and then, until completely soft and translucent, about 15–20 minutes. They should collapse without taking on color.

Add the peeled, sliced tomatoes — cut just thick enough so they soften without falling apart. Keep the heat at a gentle simmer, uncovered, for 40–45 minutes. Stir occasionally, until the sauce thickens and the oil begins to rise to the surface.

Remove from the heat. Stir in the date syrup, then the lemon juice. Adjust seasoning with salt, pepper, and a touch more lemon if needed. Fold in the remaining olive oil. Cool to room temperature in the pot, then refrigerate several hours or overnight.

Let the dish cool to room temperature in the pot. Refrigerate for several hours, preferably overnight.

Serve cold or at cool room temperature. Garnish with fresh mint just before serving.

Kitchen Notes

• When done properly, the tomatoes soften into a silky texture, their color turning sunset red, with the oil separating slightly on top.

• Pilaki tastes best after resting overnight, when the flavors deepen and the olive oil thickens slightly.

• How to peel tomatoes (by blanching):

  Bring a pot of water to a boil. Score a small “X” on the bottom of each tomato with a sharp knife. Drop the tomatoes into the boiling water for about 30 seconds, just until the skins start to loosen. Transfer them immediately to a bowl of ice water to stop the cooking. Once cooled, the skins will slip off easily.

MENU

Chilled Carrot and Yogurt Meze (Havuç Tarator)

Mercimek Köftesi (Turkish Red Lentil Balls)
Served with a lemony herb yogurt dipping sauce

Domates Pilaki
Paired with charred asparagus and dukkah.

Aegean Fish Cakes (Balık Köftesi)
Served with watercress, sorrel, rocket salad & pickled red onion.

Mastic Muhallebi

In Turkey, mercimek köftesi appears everywhere — from holiday spreads to weekday lunches tucked into the fridge. Vegan by nature, built from red lentils and fine bulgur, they hold their shape long after cooking, which makes them one of the most practical meze you can make.

If you haven’t tried them, think of something between a salad and a protein bite: soft from the lentils, a light chew from the bulgur, bright with herbs and lemon. They’re eaten cold, often wrapped in crisp lettuce leaves, and they’re always more filling than they look.

The formula is straightforward: lentils cooked to a soft mash, bulgur steamed in their heat, a spice paste folded through, herbs to finish. The details matter — cumin, chili, and sumac should be fragrant but not heavy; herbs must be stirred in only once the mixture cools, so they stay green. The dough should feel soft and workable, never sticky or dry.

Eat as they are, or dip in chili oil or herbed yogurt sauce.

Chilled Carrot and Yogurt Mezze with Cumin Oil

Makes 55–60 balls

INGREDIENTS

200 g red lentils
500 ml water
200 g fine bulgur (köftelik bulgur)
9 g salt
3 tbsp (45 ml) olive oil
1 bay leaf
1 garlic clove, crushed
2 tbsp (30 ml) olive oil
1 tbsp biber salçası (pepper paste)
1 tsp ground cumin
1 tsp pul biber
1 tsp sumac
1/2 tsp turmeric
Freshly ground black pepper
7 spring onions (green tops only), finely sliced
Half a bunch flat-leaf parsley, finely chopped
A handful of fresh mint, finely chopped
Juice of 2 lemons

METHOD

Cook the lentils with the bay leaf and crushed garlic for 15–18 minutes, stirring now and then, until they’re fully broken down and have no bite.. Remove the bay leaf and garlic.

Add fine bulgur directly to the hot lentil mash off heat. Cover and let steam 15–20 min until the bulgur is fully swollen.

Meanwhile, warm olive oil in a small pan. Stir in biber salçası and cook gently for 1–2 minutes, moving constantly. Remove from the heat and fold in cumin, pul biber, sumac, turmeric, and black pepper. Let bloom for one minute.

Pour this spice paste into the lentil-bulgur base. Add salt and lemon juice. Mix well, kneading with a spoon or hands until cohesive. It should bind but not feel wet.

When just warm, fold in the herbs and spring onions. Taste and adjust with more salt, lemon, or chili. Refrigerate for an hour before shaping so it hydrates and the flavors integrate.

Form into oblong ovals or quenelles with fingers lightly oiled or dampened. Or shape into same sized balls.

Arrange on a platter over crisp lettuce leaves. Optionally dust with sumac or serve with extra lemon wedges and fresh herbs on the side.

Dipping sauces

Chili–Lemon Olive Oil

3 tbsp (45 ml) good olive oil
1 tbsp fresh lemon juice + zest of ½ lemon
1 tsp pul biber
A pinch of salt
A touch of honey

In a small pan, warm the olive oil gently (don’t let it smoke). Add the chili and swirl for 30 seconds. Remove from heat, add lemon juice and zest, a pinch of salt, and stir. Cool before dipping.

Lemony Herb Yogurt Sauce

3 tbsp strained yogurt
1-2 tbsp lemon juice
2 tbsp olive oil
1/2 bunch fresh parsley
A small handful of mint or basil
1 clove garlic
Zest of ½ lemon
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
A splash of cold water to thin

Blend all ingredients until smooth and bright green. Chill 10 minutes before serving to let flavors bloom.

Afiyet olsun!

Kitchen Notes

• Keeps in the fridge, airtight, for 3 days.

• Best served cool or at room temperature with lettuce leaves, herbs, lemon and pickles.

The best frittatas are made slowly, on the stovetop, with steam doing the work. Covered with a lid, the eggs set without browning — turning custardy instead of spongy. This one holds late-summer zucchini, spoonfuls of soft goat cheese, and torn basil. Chili oil goes on at the end to cut through the richness.

The only real precision lies in knowing when to stop. Pull it when the edges are set but the center still wobbles — that’s the moment it holds together without losing its softness.

Serve it warm or room temperature, with a green salad and good bread.

Chilled Carrot and Yogurt Mezze with Cumin Oil

Serves 4

INGREDIENTS

8 large eggs
100 ml heavy cream (plain or infused; see below)
1 medium zucchini, thinly sliced into half moons
2 spring onions, thinly sliced (white and light green parts)
100 g soft goat cheese or ricotta
Zest of 1 lemon + 1 tsp lemon juice
Small bunch of basil, torn
2 tbsp olive oil
Salt and freshly ground black pepper

Garnish:

chili oil, more lemon zest, flaky sea salt

METHOD

Infused Cream

Gently heat 100 ml heavy cream with 1 crushed garlic clove and 2 thyme sprigs. Bring just to a simmer, then remove from heat. Let steep 5–10 minutes, strain, and cool. Use plain cream if short on time.

Quick Chili Oil (keeps 5–7 days in the fridge)

Heat 60 ml olive or grapeseed oil until shimmering. Remove from heat and stir in 1 tsp Aleppo pepper or pul biber, ½ tsp smoked paprika, and a pinch of salt. Let steep for 5 minutes. Use as is or strain for a clear oil.

Mash goat cheese with lemon zest and juice in a small bowl.

Whisk the eggs with cream, salt, and pepper until smooth. For a silkier texture, strain through a fine sieve.

Warm butter and olive oil in a 22–24 cm nonstick skillet over medium heat. Sauté spring onions for 1 minute. Add zucchini and a pinch of salt. Cook 5–6 minutes until golden and just tender.

Lower heat to a minimum. Pour in the egg mixture and stir gently for 30 seconds to distribute. Spoon in the goat cheese in small mounds.

Cover the pan with a lid or tray. Cook slowly on low heat for 8–10 minutes. The lid traps steam, creating a soft, custardy set that mimics a low oven.

Look for a matte surface, set edges, and a center that still wobbles gently. Remove from heat, uncover, and rest for 3–5 minutes. Scatter with basil and drizzle with chili oil and flaky salt.

Serve warm or at room temperature with a crisp salad. Leftovers make an excellent sandwich filling.

Afiyet olsun!

Kitchen Notes

If you’re having people over for breakfast, most of this can be done ahead: infuse the cream, make the chili oil, slice the veg, mash the cheese. When it’s time to cook, it’s really just bringing everything together — ten minutes on the pan and you’re done.