Baklava

Here's what we know for certain after spending two months in Turkey: the baklava in the United States isn't anything like the baklava you get in Turkey.  I'm not being a food snob.  Okay, fine, I am being a little snobby . . . but, this is snobbery with justification.  As I truly believe that tofu is underappreciated in the United States, so, too, baklava is not the same when outside of its native soil.  Yes, Turkey has spoiled us for baklava.

I've been dreaming about this post for months now, trying to describe to you the magnificence of baklava, the impressiveness of the labor used to create it, and the reason why I would hop onto a flight to Istanbul just to eat baklava (okay, I probably would eat other things, too, but baklava would end EVERY meal.)

So, for a moment, please erase all memories of inferior baklava from your tongue.  If you're a baklava hater (as we were) and think of it only as a gooey, dense, sticky concoction, set aside those prejudices.  Grab your cup of coffee and hear this story from beginning to end and, perhaps, I can convince you that, when in Istanbul, baklava should be your top priority.

Baklava from four different vendors in Istanbul: notice, however, the similar puffiness in the centers, the many, many layers of dough, and the relatively small amount of filling

The History of Baklava

This is the part of the post where I normally explain a bit about the history of the dish or the cuisine.  But, there isn't much known about the history of baklava. In fact, baklava lore is akin to politics or religion as a conversation firestarter in the eastern Mediterranean countries. 

The Turkish people are very secretive and loyal to "their" neighborhood baklavacis and each Istanbuli we met could point at a flaw in the baklava that was not from "their" shop.  Susannah, one of our Context docents, insisted that it's not possible to get good baklava outside of Gazantiep, her hometown in southeastern Turkey and what is generally considered as the best baklava producers in the country.  But, all Turks agree upon one thing: Turkish baklava is the best and original baklava. 

On the other hand, when describing how much we loved Turkish baklava in Athens, Greece, immediately, an older woman began reprimanding our docent, telling him that the Turks make baklava incorrectly and "everyone knows that Greek baklava is the best."  Our docent told us when we were safely away from that bakery that he actually preferred Lebanese baklava to the Greek and Turkish variations.

Nadir Gullu's famous Baracklava, made in 2009, before President Obama came to visit Turkey

Baklava pride is not only an individual matter, but even a matter of state.  In 2006, Greek Cypriots proclaimed baklava as their national dessert in an European Union Day poster, which set Turks off, leading to what the press dubbed the "baklava war": 200 Istanbul baklava producers demonstrated in Sultanahmet against the Cyprus' designation and Turkey's EU secretary raised a protest to the EU.  A few months ago, President Obama stepped into the baklava fray by opining at a Greek-American function that he loved "baklava."  Turks furiously responded, stating that everything, including the baklava, served at the dinner was nothing more than Turkish dishes dressed up as Greek ones.  (Unfortunately, the President never deigned to visit Karakoy Gulluoglu's shop in Istanbul to see the Baracklava made in his honor.)

I've found sources that list baklava as originating from the Turks, Greeks, Syrians, Cypriots, Lebanese, and even the Chinese.  Here are the bare facts what I've been able to piece together:

• There is a wide Internet rumor that the Assyrians first invented baklava in the 8th century B.C.  I have seen no evidence of this in anything other than random websites BUT, given that Assyria included much of the eastern Mediterranean and Middle East, this contention makes sense.  The Assyrians supposedly layered nuts between dough, poured a sweet syrup on top, and baked it in ceramic ovens.

• The ancient Greeks first invented a flaky thin rolled dough (though not as thin as modern phyllo dough).  Even today in Athens, it is possible to find this thin dough rolled over, fried, and topped with cinnamon sugar, a dessert first eaten in the times of Socrates and Plato. (source from our Context Athens Walk called Beyond Feta)

• Pistachios are native to the southeastern Turkey, western Iran, and northeastern Iraq.  Archaeological excavations in Turkey show that pistachios were eaten in 7,000 BC.  Gazantiep, in southeastern Turkey, is particularly famous for its pistachios and baklava.  Antep baklava includes pistachio and cream layered between thin flaky dough.  (source and source)

• The Ottoman emperors loved baklava.  It was one of the most common desserts in the Ottoman Empire, in part, because it showcased the wealth of the Ottoman Empire: good baklava required specially picked Gazantiep pistachios, butter, honey, and very carefully prepared dough.  (from the Matbah dining menu in Istanbul)

And, that's all I know for certain.  It's a pretty sketchy history of own of the world's favorite desserts.

Nadir Gullu, shots of the Karakoy Gulluoglu shop, and loading baklava from the Karakoy production center to the shop

About Karakoy Gulluoglu

If you're not here for the history lesson, here's where we get to the nuts and bolts: how to make baklava.  And, the answer is, that you don't. 

Most Turks will laugh right in your face if you tell them that you want to attempt to make baklava.  Nobody makes baklava except for the grandmothers who will spend all day making one batch or the professional baklava shops.  Baklava --- like a wedding cake --- is a dish best left to the experts, the Turks say.  And, once we got our behind-the-scenes blogger tour of Karakoy Gulluoglu, the first Gazantiep baklavaci in Istanbul, we understood why baklava should be left to the masters.

The Gullu family has been in the baklava business since the 1800s when Gullu Celebi spent six months in Damascus and Aleppo to learn how to make baklava.  The Gullu family is from Gazantiep, in southeastern Turkey, and, there, baklava quickly became a favorite dish and baklava shops and street stalls were in high demand.  The family continued making baklava after Gullu Celebi's death and sold baklava to other neighboring towns and villages.

In 1949, Mustafa Gullu, Gullu Celebi's grandson, set up the first baklava shop in Istanbul in the Karakoy neighborhood.  Mustafa Gullu said that, in the beginning, selling baklava was very difficult because, though it was a favorite dish of the Ottoman emperors, the common people had never tasted this delicacy.  "For a few years, we offered free baklava," he said and, slowly, they grew a following of baklava lovers. 

Now, sixty years later, Nadir Gullu, Mustafa Gullu's son, manages Karakoy Gulluoglu.  Nadir Gullu is an enthusiastic and energetic man with an infectious love for baklava, his company, and his country.  His moustache quivers as he tells us the importance of eating baklava every day, "It is good for you," he insists. "A good strong man must eat one piece of baklava to live long."

His baklava business is truly an empire.  Though the company is still family run, with no more than one hundred employees, and most of those employees are related to Nadir Gullu, they make over 2.5 tons of baklava and other desserts per day.  They export a large quantity of this baklava all over the world and Mr. Gullu told us that he was the favorite baklava maker for Saddam Hussein: "because we do not care about politics, we care about providing good baklava."

How to Make Baklava by a Baklava Master

The baklava production facility

Step 1.  Mix the Dough

We walk excitedly into the inner sanctum of baklava-making, up the stairs, and stand at a window where Mr. Gullu points to his baklava masters.  A master is not simply a person who makes baklava; a master must be trained in the art of baklava making.  The dough consists of flour, salt, water, and a small amount of butter.

Step 2.  Roll the dough by machine.

Initially, a mound of dough is rolled through the machine to thin it out.  This thin layer of dough is rolled around a wooden stick.

Step 3.  Use those muscles; roll the dough by hand.

"A baklava master must be strong and disciplined."  Traditionally, baklava making is a man's profession, because it is believed that only men have the muscular strength to roll the dough to the necessary thinness.  Baklava making is a full contact sport --- and the men who make baklava are heavy and thick-muscled men.  As each layer of dough is rolled out, the baklava maker flicks starch over the layer to prevent it from sticking, which is why the room is constantly in a floury haze.

Flags held up against the Karakoy Guluoglu dough

The dough is impressive, to say the least.  So thin that a mild graze by a fingernail could tear it and with a translucency that allows us to clearly read text and see flags through it, it is still strong and sturdy enough to be held by a single person without tearing.

. . . keep reading how to make baklava at karakoy gulluoglu after the jump

Cig kofte (crushed barley with tomato and spicy pepper)

Last week's post on the grilled meats of Turkey might have convinced you that Turkey's not the optimal place for us vegetarians.  You'd be wrong.  Though it can require a bit of creative thinking and negotiating with waiters, Turkey's actually a great place for vegetarians and even vegans (a surprise in dairy-heavy Europe).

Is there vegetarian food in Turkey?

Though the Turks have a storied tradition of meat eating, there is also a long history toward vegetarianism in this region.  Before the Turkmen occupied present-day Turkey, the Greeks and Romans ruled over this space.  Many famous and influential ancent Greeks and Romans were vegetarians: Pythagoras, the mathematician; Socrates, the philosopher (as described in Plato's The Republic); Zeno, the founder of Stoicism; Epicurus, the philosopher, and founder of the school of Epicureanism; Seneca, Caligula's minister; and Plutarch, the philosopher.  (source)

Of these men, Pythagoras was the first and most famous advocate of vegetarianism.  Pythagoras was born off the coast of Turkey, in Samos, today one of the Greek islands, separated from mainland Turkey by only a one mile strait.  He traveled extensively in his youth and ultimately founded Pythagorean schools in Italy, where his disciples lived according to Pythagoras's principles, part of which required vegetarianism.  In Metamorphoses, Ovid presents Pythagoras impassionately arguing that in order for humans to metamorphose into a better and more harmonious species, we must become more humane and understand that human and animal lives are so intertwined as to be inseparable:

      Everything changes; nothing dies; the soul roams to and fro, now here, now there, and takes what frame it will, passing from beast to man, from our own form to beast and never dies...Therefore lest appetite and greed destroy the bonds of love and duty, heed my message! Abstain! Never by slaughter dispossess souls that are kin and nourish blood with blood!

Besides these philosophical principles which led many ancient Greeks and Romans to abstain from meat, meat was also expensive for the average working man.  Vegetables, grains, dairy, and seafood were cheap and easily renewable resources.  In Lysistrata, Aristophanes wrote that a piglet costs three drachma, or three day's salary for a public servant. 

Interestingly, gladiators also were vegetarians, not for poverty or for animal rights reasons, but because they realized that carb bulking would best serve them in the arena.  An archaeological excavation of a gladiator graveyard near Ephesus, Turkey, revealed that gladiators had huge layers of subcutaneous fat to help cushion injuries and shield nerves and blood vessels from fatal injuries.  Bulking up on carbs via barley and legumes meant that the gladiators needed extra calcium, which they took in the form of charred wood or bone ash, both which are rich in calcium.

As time went on and the Turks and Ottomans took hold of Turkey, vegetarianism grew less, especially because eating meat is an essential part of Islamic culture.  However, Francis Bacon noted in the 16th century, when discussing animal rights in the Advancement of Learning: "[U]nder the old laws, there were numerous precepts (not merely ceremonial) enjoining mercy [toward animals] - for example, the not eating of flesh with the blood, &c. So, also, the sects of the Essenes and Pythagoreans totally abstained from flesh, as they do also to this day, with an inviolate religion, in some parts of the empire of the Mogul [Hindustan]. Nay, the Turks, though a savage nation, both in their descent and discipline, give alms to the dumb animals, and suffer them not to be tortured." (source)

Because of the long Islamic and Ottoman rule, vegetarianism as a concept is not well-understood in modern-day Turkey.  But, the ancient Greek and Roman history has ensured that certain vegetarian staples live on, such as the eating of mostly vegetarian mezes and vegetables to be served alongside any meat dishes.

What can a vegetarian eat in Turkey?

For breakfast

Doughy bagel-like simit topped with sesame seeds and found everywhere.  Perfect on the run, as a snack, or dipped in some tahini. (Vegan)

Menemen, that is, scrambled eggs Turkish style with plenty of tomatoes and peppers thrown in.

 Turkish kahvalti, or Turkish breakfast, which consists of a huge platter of cheeses, vegetables, olives, pastries, jam, kaymak (clotted cream), and bread.

For lunch

Turkish pide with a thick doughy base and cheese and vegetables within, similar to a thick flat-bread pizza.

Cig kofte, one of the best snacks for the vegetarian traveler to Istanbul, is a mixture of spicy pepper paste, tomatoes, and bulgur.  Traditionally, cig kofte is made with ground meat but, due to sanitation reasons, the vast majority of cig kofte sold on street stalls is vegetarian and you can buy it either wrapped in lettuce or on a flour wrap with spicy sauce or without.  Love this dish!  (Vegan)

Borek is the savory cousin of baklava, made by sandwiching white cheese and vegetables between layers of phyllo dough.

. . . keep reading vegetarian food in turkey after the jump

Midye dolmasi and midye tava on Istanbul streets

As travelers, we often don't get to celebrate holidays the way we would back at home in the States.  Last year's Thanksgiving was spent at a French hotel near the Eurotunnel rather than at home with my favorite apple pie.  This year's Christmas was in London where we made up our own British feast replete with a Christmas pudding for us and a Christmas pudding for the dogs.  And, today, on July 4th, we're in Italy where Patrick's going to make some improvisational sandwiches with sheep's milk ricotta and bufala mozzarella, instead of our usual hamburger and veggie burgers grilled on the barbeque.

But, for those of you who can't fathom the 4th (or any other day for that matter) without a hunk of beef, this post on the grilled meats of Turkey is for you.  (Veggie readers, don't worry: I'm following up this post with a Vegetarian Turkish cuisine post and there'll be lots of yummy goodness for you in that one.)

Kofte kebab

Why meat?

Before we start talking about types of grilled meat found commonly in Turkey, let's delve a tiny bit into Turkey's food history.  Until around the 2nd century B.C., the region we know as Turkey was occupied by the ancient Greeks, who created powerful and important cities such as Ephesus, Smyrna (now Izmir), and Byzantium (later Constantinople and now Istanbul).  The ancient Greeks subsisted primarily on a vegetarian and seafood diet, eating meat only on feast days and for special occasions, and the ancient Romans had a similar diet.

As the Greek and Roman civilizations began to fall, the Turkmen from Turkmenistan/Central Asia came into modern-day Turkey.  Unlike the Greeks and Romans who settled and built huge cities with massive agricultural farms, the Turkmen were ancient herders and nomads.  They were masters at animal husbandry, at maintaining huge flocks of animals, and migrating those animals through mountains and plains every year.  Unsurprisingly, the Turkmen ate a whole lot of animal products such as meat, milk, yogurt, and cheese, because those products were readily available, unlike vegetables which required them to be settled in one place.  

When the Turkmen began settling in villages in Anatolia, social hierarchy was demonstrated by who got to eat certain portions of a roast sheep at feast days.  Each person had an ulus, or reserved share, of the roast sheep and that share was based upon the bravery and deeds of his/her forefather though a tribal member could increase their share by performing brave deeds on their own.  People punished for bad acts lost their share to the roast sheep and also lost their rights to grazing land and pasturage.   In other words, among the Turks, food was not just a means of sustenance but rather it was the means by which a person's importance was measured.  (source)

Cig kofte

(Interestingly, even today, as it was thousands of years ago, meat plays an important role in family traditions.  Suzan with Context Istanbul mentioned that the men in her town in southeast Anatolia cannot marry until they can make cig kofte properly.  They must squish and knead raw meat between their fingers until it literally cooks and forms a thick paste.  Once "cooked," the men will take a mound of the cig kofte to the local hamam (Turkish bath) and throw the cig kofte up to the ceiling.  If the cig kofte sticks to the ceiling then the man has enough muscle to marry the woman but, if not, then he must try again.  Suzan said that her father passed this test as have all of her uncles in the town.)

Beyran corbasi at Ehli

These nomadic Turkmen also cut chunks of meat into stews and soups, the perfect meal when on the move (much like the Hungarian herdsmen), and even today, soup is an integral part of Turkish cuisine.  The soup pictured above is beyran corbasi, a soup from the famed Gazantiep region of Turkey --- known across Turkey as the best place to get Turkish food (and, yes, we desperately want to go there).  Beyran is traditionally drunk for breakfast in that region but Patrick would have Ehli's beyran corbasi morning, noon, and night if it was up to him.  He says that this soup is the best soup he's ever had in the world.  The soup sounds simple: suet, white rice, slow-cooked lamb strands, broth made from a lamb's neck, a hefty spoonful of garlic and pepper.  But, the sum of its part is something exceptional: the depth of the soup goes beyond one single ingredient so that every spoonful yields a slightly different taste, flavor, and experience.  At first, the broth is rich and deep, and then the spice hits the tongue, and finally the tender meat and rice melt into a satisfying I-want-this-when-I-have-a-chest-cold comfort.  It's the sort of dish that we could easily imagine some millennia-old nomadic sheepherder creating over a fire after a long day's work on the Turkish hills.

So, unlike many other ancient food traditions such as the Romans, Greeks, and Dravidians, meat was an essential part of the daily diet of the ancient Turks, which is why it's impossible to talk about Turkish food without talking about its grilled meats.

Slicing a doner kebab

On kebabs and grilling

In the 9th century, the Selcuks from Persia invaded the region and set up an empire in eastern Anatolia.  These people brought with them the tradition of kebabs.  Kebab literally means "small pieces."  The Selcuks cut pieces of meat from an animal and cooked that meat in pieces, either wrapped in a skin or on skewers over a flame.  The Selcuks also cleaned the interior of animals and hung the whole animal on spits to slowly cook them.  (source)

We heard many Turks complain that kebabs are not "actually Turkish" and that the modern fervor for kebab houses is ruining traditional Anatolian cuisine.  But, since the 9th century and up to today, kebabs have played an integral role in Turkish cuisine and might be what Turkish cuisine is best known for.  So, let's do a quick run down on a few types of kebabs (because you could spend a lifetime eating in Turkey and never eat all the different types of kebabs):

Doner kebab

Doner kebab

The doner kebab, or literally "rotating kebab", consists of meat from beef or lamb interspersed with slices of fat that rotates on a spit.  The fat melts over the layers of meat as it cooks over a slow fire, which is why good doner kebab usually drips at the bottom.  Doner kebab is so popular that when the Ottomans took over present-day Greece, the Greeks adopted the doner kebab into their own gyro. 

When served in Turkey, doner kebab is never given with sauce because the meat itself has so much flavor.  A doner kebab is usually sold directly on the streets with a plate with vegetables, on bread to carry away, or on lavash (similar to pita.)  For lunch, it's typical to stop at a doner kebab stall and grab a sandwich but, at dinner, the doner kebab is usually served with vegetable mezes.

As with most things, finding "your" doner kebab stand can be tricky --- but is essential to eating well.  Patrick found one in Istanbul on the Asian side and one in Turgutreis (locations below), but doner kebab stands are a dime a dozen.  The easiest way to find a good one is to follow where the locals go to eat lunch.

. . . keep reading grilled meats of turkey after the jump

Crema catalan, Catalunya's famous custard dessert

Catalunya's food culture is undeniable: it is home to Barcelona which is regularly listed as one of the best food cities in the world and Chef Ferran Adria's El Bulli, the best restaurant in the world.

But, this is nothing new.  Catalunya has long been a stronghold of inventive cuisine.  Cookbooks found from the 14th century Catalan courts provide recipes that would fit well in any modern gourmet restaurant, including a sofregit of slowly fried onions with garlic, an almond sauce, baby eggplants stuffed with a herby goat’s cheese, and fried fish escabache.  (From the Llibre de Sent Soví via the March 24, 2012 Telegraph article on Catalan cuisine.)  Another Catalan cookbook written by Rupert de Nola, the head cook to Alfonso V, who became king of Naples in 1443, utilizes flavors from Genoa, Arabia, and the Lombardy region in France.  He mixes sweet with savory, sweet with sour, and meats with fruits, resulting in mouth-tingling gastronomic creations that gained acclaim all across Europe.

Tintoreria Dontell

Given all this, I was a bit surprised when our guides from the Catalunya Tourism Board asked us to meet them at a laundromat for dinner on our second night in Barcelona.  We walked to the allotted spot a little early and stood staring at a plain laundromat, labeled in blue Tintoreria Dontell, half-obscured by scaffolding with the typical suits hanging by the front door.  We looked around for the restaurant but there was none to be seen.  Finally, Deb -- fearless Deb --- rang the bell and sheepishly asked, "Is this right?" 

The impeccably dressed Spaniard (but, then again, aren't they all impeccably dressed?) smiled and buzzed us in.  I'd like to tell you more --- about the secret door, the amazing asparagus and pea soup amuse bouche, the sleek and chic purple and silver decor, and the goat cheese salad with cinnamon and nutmeg garnish --- but, I won't tell.  No, I won't tell you how to find it --- you need to figure this one out on your own -- and when you figure it out, you have to make reservations by calling and leaving a voicemail.  It's not your usual sort of place and that's why we loved it.  So, when you're in Barcelona, Don't Tell anyone that I told you about this very inventive laundromat.

Meal at Degvsta in Tarragona

Though Degvsta in Tarragona, Spain, did not have the neat effect of secret trapdoors, it remained one of the star restaurants I visited in Catalunya for its outstanding squash soup and succulent fried artichokes topped with a fried egg (yum!). 

Eels, eels, and more eels, and dessert (consisting of a fried sweet squash blossom, crema catalana, milk pudding, and a walnut liqueur) at L'Estany

The more adventurous of the meat-eaters in our group preferred the eel-based meal at L'Estany in the Delta de 'Erbe, where they literally got to try eels stir-fried, stewed, sauteed, boiled, and baked.  If there was a preparation of eel out there, L'Estany made it and the adventurous omnivores really loved the cuisine.

 

Alcohol from the Priorat region: Priorat robust red, vermut from the Priorat, and sparkling Cava

Beyond inventiveness, what struck me about Catalan cuisine is the focus on local, fresh, and seasonal ingredients.  The Catalunya region took the Slow Food movement one step further by creating the 0 km movement, meaning essentially, that all of the ingredients used in a 0 km restaurant traveled less than 1 km to reach the restaurant's doors.  The Priorat region, known for its high alcohol-content wines, is a leader in this movement.  Though the Priorat region is small, it is quickly becoming an important stop for wine and food enthusiasts with restaurants like Celler de l'Aspic and the biodynamic and organic winery at Mas Blanc, focusing on providing quality local products to its guests.  (By the way, if you're interested in visiting the Priorat region, I HIGHLY recommend that you get in touch with the folks at the lovely Hostal Sport, a hotel that has been continuously running for 90 years.  Their staff will help you organize the Priorat experience you desire, because many of the wineries are closed door, require reservations, or do not have bilingual staff.)

Calcots

It was in the Priorat region that our group participated in one of the most fun, delicious, and messy food adventures yet.  At Mas Trucafort, an agriturismo run by Roger, a trained chef, we ate "by fire."  Roger explained that fire is essential to traditional Catalan cuisine.  Our first course was calcots, a type of huge green onion found only in the Catalunya area.  The calcots are roasted on open flames until completely charred.  We then peeled off the char, blackening our fingers with soot and leaves, draped the tender onion within spicy romesco sauce, and then sucked it down our throats, resulting in many very necessary sexual innuendos.  (Because, come on . . . how you can help yourselves?) 

 

. . . keep reading catalan cuisine: fresh and inventive after the jump