Goreme for Gourmands (Cappadocia, Turkey)

If you are researching Cappadocia, you already know about its unique geological formations. That is what draws most travelers to the region. But for foodies, there is another earthworks of interest: testi kebab -- lamb stewed in clay jars. We were first alerted to this dish by the broken clay jars displayed in restaurant windows in the town of Goreme.

Intrigued and wanting to know more, we found ourselves at Kale Terasse restaurant -- not the fanciest in town, but a place of happy informality that seemed to be favored more by Turkish than western tourists. This is how the testi kebab was served:

The jar is cracked open at the table, just like the top of a boiled egg being removed. Our dish of lamb and red peppers was outstanding -- a local preparation much better than the more standard shish kebab (linguistic note: testi means jar in Turkish; shish means skewer). We washed it down with the very decent local Turasan wine as well as the ubiquitous Efes beer.

Other gastronomic points of interest: The Kelebek Hotel has an impressive breakfast spread, including turkish breads with toasted sesame seeds, cheeses, olives, and red pepper paste; dried fruits (figs, several types of apricots, raisins, sultanas and currants), and western favorites like french toast served with local sour cherry preserves. While I homed in on the savory, Chris favored the sweet. I was too busy enjoying feta cheese and red pepper paste to take a picture of it, but here is a shot of the preserves:

On our hike in the Rose Valley, a gentle walk among soaring rock formations and small farmers' plots, we encountered another treat: freshly squeezed pomegranate juice. The vendor's stand is modestly integrated into the landscape:

If you look closely, you can see more clay pots piled up at the foot of the stand, and yet more forming the boundary of the garden plot.

Notes:

The Kelebek Hotel in Goreme offers reasonably priced rooms which include breakfast, arranges transport from and back to Kayseri airport, and can arrange a variety of tours, including a hike in the Rose Valley.

The Kalle Terasse is at Roma Kalesi Yani, Muze Cad, Goreme, but is most easily found by wandering around (Goreme is very small!). You can also email the manager at manager@kaleterrasse.com

You can learn more about pottery making in the region in the town of Avanos, about 5 miles from Goreme. It is located on the banks of the Red River (Kizirlirmak), which supplies the red clay for the pots. This photo at the Guray workshop demonstrates the working of the traditional, foot-operated potter's wheel.

For my post on Istanbul, click here

For my post on the Bodrum Peninsula, click here

Photo credits: Chris Svoboda

The Billy Goat Food Trail (4)

Dish to die for: Belon oysters

We returned to where we had started our food journey: Black Salt Fish Market and Restaurant on MacArthur Boulevard – in whose parking lot the Palisades Farmer’s Market had been that morning. If you time it right, you can return from your hike on the Billy Goat Trail in time for happy hour at Black Salt and partake of $1 oysters and discounted drinks.

The happy hour oysters that day were Rappahanocks, but there was a selection of nine other – more pricey -- bivalves to be tempted by. I succumbed, of course. What particularly drew my attention were the oysters from Maine. It seemed reasonable to suppose that the icy waters that produce those fabulous Maine lobsters could also nurture other crustaceans of worth. But since I had never associated Maine with oysters, I also ordered a few representatives from West Coast – my favorite up to that point – just to be on the safe side. In all, my half dozen oysters consisted of two kinds of West Coast oysters (two of each) and two Belon oysters from Maine.

You will notice that I do not remember the names of the oysters from the west coast, or even which west coast state they were from. Much as I enjoy oysters, I can never seem to retain the names of the varieties that I like. Servers like to identify your selections for you, going clockwise or counterclockwise around the arrangement on your plate. But by the time they get from one side to the other, I have already forgotten what I have been told. You would think that once I have eaten the selection and found which I like, I would be able to remember at least those, but still I fail each time.

Belon oysters were different. Absolutely different. The name Belon has become imprinted on my brain. See, it is now a couple of weeks later, and I still know not only what they are called, but how to spell their name, and that they are named after a river in France from which they were introduced to Maine in the 1950s. According to Rowan Jacobson, only 5,000 Belon a year are pulled for sale in Maine, making them one of the rarest oysters in the world.

They are wild, these oysters, “as powerful as any on the planet, redolent of fish and zinc and umami – not for the faint of heart”. I have quoted Jacobson here because I cannot offer a better description of these delicacies. Except that they did not make my heart faint, but rather pound harder, with the excitement of a new discovery. I quickly ordered more of these gems (no way two would suffice), foregoing any thought of another course. As Amanda Hesser has put it, these oysters are "the main event".Bravo to Black Salt for procuring these rareties at the beginning of oyster season. 

Speaking of oyster season, thanks to a post by John Hook, my understanding of why the R months are oyster months has deepened. The R months are the winter months, when water temperatures drop low enough to end the spawning activities of oysters. As Hook puts it, at that point, "oysters have completely taken their tiny molluscan minds off sex and become fascinated with getting all larded up” – it is the post-coital planktonic matter that they vacuum up from the tides that give them their oysteriness. The point is also made by another authority on the seasonality of oysters, Robb Walsh’s Sex, Death and Oysters.

But for those of us in it just for the taste, all we need to know is that April – the last R month – is the pinnacle of oyster flavor. So between now and then, I will be heading back to Black Salt and hoping for more Belon.

Note for those following this blog: apologies for the belated posting -- I started this piece before my long trip, and was unable to complete it until now. The correct sequencing should have been directly after Billy Goat Food Trail (3)

The Billy Goat Food Trail (3)

Dish to die for: Liege-style waffles

We enjoyed hiking – and eating -- on the Billy Goat Trail so much, that the next day we went back for more. This time we started off at the Palisades Farmers’ Market, which sets up in the parking lot next to Black Salt Restaurant on MacArthur Boulevard. Here we found a Belgian couple making Liege-style waffles before our very eyes. The smell was warm and sweet, drawing us closer. I looked around for syrup, sugar, or other toppings, but found none. “Non”, said Madame, “everything is already inside.” Honey had been folded into the batter, and the aroma we smelled was pearl sugar caramelizing on the outside of the waffle as it baked. An aroma that held us firmly in its grip until we handed over our $4 per waffle (you can also get 3 for $10). It was money well spent: eating these waffles felt like ingesting warm little packets of gladness.

Bellies aglow, we continued to work our way around the farmers’ market , picking up some fruit for the trail and also some veggies to take home. I stopped by a pile of baby pumpkins.

"These would be great with dinner!" I announced. Chris looked uncomfortable, shifting from leg to leg. “Do you think we had better ask if they are meant for cooking?“ “What do you mean? It’s just a squash.” I remembered my mother marveling that Americans do not think of pumpkin as a food, but rather as a Halloween accessory.

Dutifully, I asked at the farm stand if these pumpkins could be cooked. The woman looked a bit doubtful herself, but gamely proferred that “some people” did cook them. With this inconclusive information, it would be up to me to demonstrate that pumpkin was indeed just another squash that could be cooked like any other: baked, put in stews, used to sweeten chicken soup ever so slightly -- this latter being my mother’s favorite use. But that would come later.

Right now, we had the Billy Goat Trail Section B to conquer. Just as for Section A, access to the trail is from the parking lot across from the Old Angler’s Inn on MacArthur Boulevard, about a 10 minute drive from Black Salt. Head down the hill, cross the bridge, but instead of turning right on the towpath as you would for Section A, turn left to reach Section B. Section B of the Billy Goat Trail is a kinder, gentler walk along the Potomac River. Being less strenuous, you can take the time to notice the smaller wonders along the way. Chris is good at that:

Another advantage to choosing this milder terrain is that you are left with sufficient time and energy to contemplate other activities in the area. On the way back from our “hike” (more like a rolling stroll, really), we made a stop at the open artists’ studios at Glen Echo Park that we had had to skip the day before: we admired the oil paintings of J. Jordan Bruns, the artist-in-residence in his round studio in the Chautauqua Tower, and poked in and out of the yurts that serve as studios and galleries.

Glen Echo itself is like a palimpsest with traces of its past identities still visible through the successive layers that have followed. Buildings remaining from its days as an amusement park are still in evidence, with names like Crystal Pool, the Dentzel Carousel and the Hall of Mirrors. The Tower is the only vestige of its Chautauqua period in the late nineteenth century,while the yurts arrived as fallout from a 1971 crafts event on the Mall in Washington that never happened. Perhaps it is this refusal to adhere to any one period of time which makes Glen Echo one of the most magical places in the DC area.

....continued in The Billy Goat Food Trail (4)


But meanwhile: Happy Halloween!!

The Billy Goat Food Trail (2)

The Irish Inn at Glen Echo

Dish to die for: fig salad with dark chocolate sauce

City girl that I am, learning the seasonality of foods has not come easily to me. When I was doing my fieldwork in a Palestinian village, I noticed one summer evening that a lot of people were sitting outside their houses peeling cucumbers. It took me a while to figure out why everyone was having the same thing for dinner. When I lived in Massachussetts, it took a couple of years of riding around to admire the foliage for me to realize that fall was the season when apple stands would appear on country roads. Now in Washington, an October hike on the Billy Goat Trail has taught me that late summer to fall is the season for figs.

The Billy Goat Trail Section A requires concentrated rock scrambling, and by the time we were done, some post-hike refreshment was in order. Heading back to DC along MacArthur Boulevard, the Irish Inn magically appeared, just in time to fulfill this need. I say “magically” not only because an Irish pub was conjured up at just the moment we were wishing for a place to quench our thirst, but also because the Inn is right next to Glen Echo Park, arguably the strangest and most magical place in all of greater DC. I made an abrupt and impulsive turn to the right, and before we knew it, we were seated on the generous outdoor patio perusing the beer list.

The beer selection at the Irish Inn is actually less impressive than its long list of whiskies. It was too early for a shot, so we stuck with the tried and true and ordered pints of Guinness. The pub menu had some intriguing takes on traditional fare: fish and chips made with Guinness battered cod, bangers and mash with peas and whisky sauce, a Black Angus burger with Dublin cheddar. But there were also some unexpected dishes, including this one:

Figs with dark bitter chocolate sauce sounded too tantalizing to pass up. Still sated from our picnic on the trail, we ordered one to share and were pleasantly surprised when our two halves of the salad arrived separately composed on individual plates. Nice touch. Our responses were predictably separate as well: Chris loved the fact that so many of her favorite foods were all in one dish. I homed in on the figs and dark chocolate combination, feeling that too many other flavors (salty, peppery, gingery) overcrowded this unusual pairing of sweet on sweet. I wanted to savor this strange combination, focus on what made it work. Figs and dark bitter chocolate is not your everyday fruit and chocolate sauce combo. Unlike raspberries, for example, which are acidic and contrast beautifully with creamy chocolate, pairing figs and dark chocolate is a study in different degrees of sameness. Figs’ fruitiness is anchored in earth tones, taken to darker depths by the somber intensity of the bitter dark chocolate.

I wanted to know more about this dish. “Yeah, he makes something with figs every year at this time”, our waiter informed us, jerking his head back to the kitchen. “It’s fig season then?” The waiter looked at me as if I were daft, nodding confusedly. I found myself bonding with this newcomer to my tastebuds. Sure, the more uplifting fruits of summer have their sprightly place, but figs brought even further down to earth by a serious chocolate companion seem more fitting for the fall. As for all the other tempting choices on the menu…they will have to wait til winter.

For the Billy Goat Food Trail (3) click here

For the Billy Goat Food Trail (4) click here

The Billy Goat Food Trail (1)

Figs Fine Foods
4828 MacArthur Blvd, NW

Dish To Die For: labneh and za'atar sandwich on toasted Barbari bread

We found Figs by chance. It’s easy to overlook, tucked away on the sunken level of a small strip of storefronts in the Palisades. But, for reasons that will become obvious as you read this series of posts, we have come to see this section of MacArthur Boulevard as base camp for hiking the Billy Goat Trail, and have gotten to know what the neighborhood has to offer, which is quite a bit.

Figs presents itself as a Lebanese restaurant/deli, but in fact its Middle Eastern scope is  wider than that. Sandwiches here are made with Barbari, an Iranian style loaf that is sturdier than Levantine pita bread, and densely covered with toasted sesame seeds. Still, chef/owner Reem Azoury's focus is on foods that reflect the everyday choices of the people of the Levant, getting more to the core of daily life than the usual roster of Lebanese foods offered in DC restaurants. For my picnic sandwich, I chose labneh, a tangy yogurt cheese, and za’atar, dried wild thyme soaked in fresh pressed olive oil.

When I was doing my fieldwork in a Palestinian village, I ate both of these foods on an almost daily basis – mostly for breakfast, but also for lunch, dinner, or whenever I needed a snack. The family I lived with would make labneh from scratch, adding a little yogurt starter and salt to milk and bringing it slowly to a boil. Waiting for the mixture to thicken took patience, but eventually a mass thick enough to slip into a muslin bag had formed. The bag would be tied at the top, looped over the kitchen spigot, and left overnight for the whey to drain into the sink below. By morning, a cheese awaited. It was gently placed into a shallow bowl, and the middle hollowed out with the back of a spoon. This depression created a small well into which olive oil would be poured, ready for dipping.

On my sandwich, though, the olive oil from the za’atar performed this function. Slices of cucumber and tomato rounded out the family of flavors. Eating this on Section A of the Billy Goat Trail, I marveled at how well the nutty crunch of the toasted sesame seeds complemented the creamy tang of the cheese, the bread’s alto to the labneh’s soprano. They were the leading characters in this aria, with the other ingredients working as a supporting cast. With each bite, I applauded madly. Brava, Maestra Reem.

Making labneh at home

Making labneh from scratch never really worked for me at home – despite the instruction I was given and the opportunity to watch the process first hand. (Fadwa, if you are reading this, please feel free to give us some tips!) Fortunately, my Middle Eastern friends back in the States let me in on a secret: it’s not really necessary to start from Step 1. You can simply buy some good, plain yogurt – Greek style, for example – add salt, and let it drain overnight. If you would like to simulate the experience of draining the whey from a muslin bag, this recipe has step by step pictures that nicely illustrate how to do it. But equally, you could line a colander or even a coffee cone with cheesecloth, leave the yogurt in it overnight and the result will be satisfactory. For storage, form the labneh into ping pong sized balls (or smaller) and store in a jar of olive oil.



Hiking the Billy Goat Trail A

Section A of the Billy Goat Trail is the most strenuous of the three sections, and involves rock scrambling for a significant part of it. Unless you are intent on keeping up a brisk rate, allow three and half hours for the roundtrip, including time for admiring the magnificent vistas and picnicking on the cliffs or on the small beach. The parking lot for the trail is across the road from the Old Angler's Inn on MacArthur Boulevard, about a 10 minute drive from Figs. Cross the bridge at the bottom of the hill, hang a right and walk along the towpath until you reach the sign for the Billy Goat Trail turnoff. Get a good work out for 1.7 miles going out, then relax returning along the flat towpath. For where to go post-hike, see my next post.

Photo credits: Chris Svoboda

For the Billy Goat Food Trail (2) click here
For the Billy Goat Food Trail (3) click here
For the Billy Goat Food Trail (4) click here