Photo from http://chinabites.com/

The Uyghurs are a Turkic ethnic group living primarily in the Xinjiang Uyghur Autonomous Region in the People’s Republic of China. As most of the Uyghurs are Sunni Muslims, the food is predominantly halal.

That night, we sampled flat cake with hummus, fried rice with beef jerky, three types of dumplings (fried/steamed/baked), and spicy mutton kebabs.

Our verdict? The flat cake tasted like paratha, only not as oily, and the hummus was not really outstanding. The fried rice was rice stir-fried with soy sauce, a bit of mixed vegetables, and dried beef pieces; it was okay but the rice was a bit on the chewy/hard side. The dumplings were all nice BUT they all used mutton filling cooked in different ways so if you’re not that fond of mutton, consider yourself warned. Oh, and you must order a minimum of 4 dumplings per order.

The spicy mutton kebabs were the most unforgettable of all — the meat was tender and flavourful, they were not too spicy to burn your tongue but just enough to give it a nice kick and mute the mutton’s usual odour, the amount of meat per skewer was generous, and the meat was very tender. At only RMB3 (~USD1) per skewer, the kebabs were a great bargain and such an unexpected treat. Even my colleague who normally does not eat mutton admitted that she enjoyed the kebabs very much.

Pic from http://www.englishbaby.com

Unfortunately, it was a business dinner so I didn’t have the chance to take any pics, thus explaining why I’m using pics off the internet for this post.

There were plenty of other dishes on the menu, including duck, chicken and beef, from practically all conceivable body parts of those animals, offal included. The restaurant is halal but served alcoholic drinks and the clientele was very varied — Caucasian tourists and expats included — and not necessarily only Muslims seeking halal food.

Yeli Xiali Restaurant
Branches in Shanghai:
No. 411, East Tianlin Road, Xuhui District, Shanghai * Tel: 021-64519797
No. 147, Fenglin Road, Xuhui District, Shanghai * Tel: 021-64038882
No. 106, East Nandan Road, Xuhui District, Shanghai * Tel: 021-64686079
2F, No. 762, Tianshan Road, Changning District, Shanghai * Tel: 021-62748367
No. 918, Dongfang Road, Pudong District, Shanghai * Tel: 021-50201057
No. 680, Zhaojiabang Road, Xuhui District, Shanghai * Tel: 021-64668388

For best results, print out the card below and show it to the taxi driver (click the image below for a bigger version for printing). Ask your hotel beforehand which branch is nearest to you. Bon appetit!

In GenSan (General Santos City, a.k.a. Manny Pacquiao country), I savoured delectable fresh tuna sashimi in a small airconditioned restaurant at the fish port (whose name I, unfortunately, forgot to note down)…

…scrumptious grilled tuna belly…

…and garlic shrimps at Ocean Cave Restaurant.

In Manila, I had manibalang na mangga at bagoong (slightly ripened mangoes with fermented salted shrimps)…

…and the tantalizing Mango Bravo cake from Conti’s — a cake so good, it was totally worth breaking my new no-carbs-at-night rule…just for one night!

In Kapatagan, Lanao del Norte, ginanggang nga saging made for a nostalgic afternoon snack. It’s a very simple food that I’ve always loved since childhood — plantain bananas in bamboo skewers grilled over a slow fire until the outer portion slightly hardens and darkens, then smothered with Star margarine (a.k.a. Planta in Malaysia) and sprinkled with sugar.

Thank goodness for an almost-iron-will and portion control, I somehow managed to return to KL with very minimal (if at all) weight gain!

What about you? What foods do you miss from your hometown and your childhood?

As the name of the dish suggests, the main ingredients are aglio (garlic) and olio (oil), specifically, olive oil.

Don’t be afraid about the dish being too ‘oily’ because olive oil is actually very good for your health. Olive oil is rich in good fats that are good for your cholesterol levels, helps reduce your chances of developing heart disease and may even help prevent cancer.  Olive oil also contains a lot of antioxidants and vitamin E.

IMPORTANT: For cooking, use ‘normal’ olive oil; don’t use extra virgin olive oil. Extra virgin olive oil is sensitive to heat and loses its efficacy when cooked. You can add in extra virgin oil just before eating, if you wish.

I’ve actually planned on publishing this post a long time ago but I kept postponing it because of one big problem: I don’t have a fixed amount of the ingredients; I just eyeball it. But since F has been very keen to try making it for Little B, I’m posting the recipe here with an approximation of the ingredients. Please adjust the herbs and seasoning as you go to suit your taste buds.

Spaghetti Aglio e Olio

Ingredients:

• 1 packet spaghetti – cooked al dente
• 10 tablespoons olive oil
• 10 cloves of garlic, crushed then chopped coarsely
  
• 500 grams shrimps – heads removed, peeled, and deveined
• a small bunch of coriander, coarsely chopped (Malay: daun ketumbar)
• salt, to taste
  
• freshly ground black pepper, to taste
  
• optional: chopped red chili or dried chili flakes

Directions:
1. Cook spaghetti as per package instructions until al dente. You wouldn’t want them too soggy as you’ll still be cooking them in a pan.
2. In a large non-stick pan, pour the olive oil in and start sautéing the garlic until it turns fragrant. If you’re not very fond of garlic, you can reduce the number of cloves but you can’t omit the garlic altogether as it will affect the overall taste of the dish.
3. At this point, you can add in the chopped red chili, if you’re the type of person who likes it hot. It’s actually nicer with just a little bit of chili, believe me! But if you have children who are sensitive to the least bit of chili, then you better skip this step and just add dried chili flakes to your own serving later on.
4. Add in the shrimps. Mix them around until they start to turn pink. (Note: Unpeeled shrimps with their heads on would actually make the dish look more appealing…but then they’d be a pain to peel and eat.)
5. Toss in the pasta. Mix around to coat the pasta with the oil. Add more oil if it looks too dry. Season with salt and freshly ground black pepper. This is important: the pepper must be freshly ground. Either use a pepper grinder or bash some peppercorns with a pestle and mortar. It makes a HUGE difference in the taste as compared to ground black pepper.
6. Add in the coriander, mix around briefly, take the pan out of the flame and serve the spaghetti immediately. Optional: garnish each plate with some coriander leaves.

Try making it this weekend. Bon weekend, mes amis!

There’s the döner kebab (Turkish: döner kebap or döner kebabı, literally “rotating roast”, often abbreviated as döner) which is found in almost every street corner.

This Turkish dish is made of lamb meat or chicken cooked on a vertical spit and sliced off to order and served wrapped in bread with salad and a dressing. Have a döner with your favourite beverage… or go Turkish all the way and have it with ayran, a type of drink that tastes like watered down slightly salted yoghurt. And by the way, döner is much cheaper on the Asian side, if you have the time to explore that area — as cheap as 2 Turkish Liras for a döner and a small bottle of ayran.

Feeling adventurous? Have a cup of freshly squeezed pomegranate juice. The price is a bit steep — about 5 Turkish Liras for a small paper cup — but it’s 100% pure, fresh pomegranate juice, without any water or sugar added.

A word of caution: I went to Istanbul in October, which is not the season for pomegranates, so I ended up with a cup of the sourest, tartest pomegranate juice ever. But I just chose to think of it as a cup of wholesome, unadulterated antioxidants so I finished every last drop of it. (That, plus the fact that it cost me 5 Turkish Liras!!!) Whatever the case, it’s quite mesmerizing watching them lift the lever of this manual juice squeezer, put in half of a pomegranate, turn the handle from the back to the front in a circular motion, take out the pomegranate shell, then repeat the process all over again.

Walk towards Topkapi and Hagia Sophia (Ayasofya) and you are bound to see these carts where they roast and sell chestnuts.

I photographed this particular cart near Sirkeci Station a.k.a. Istanbul Gar. I was shooting from a distance but the chestnut vendor knew I was taking his pic and he smiled just as I pressed the shutter!

If New York City has its pretzel carts, Turkey has simit carts. I shot this one near the Spice Bazaar.

Simit is a type of Turkish bread sprinkled with sesame seeds which looks very much like bagels. Not everyone loves simit. But I wasn’t impressed with New York’s pretzels either.

For a sweet treat, try Osmanli macunu. I felt like a child walking around Sultanahmet Park while sucking on a stick of this sticky sweet Ottoman candy.

The Osmanli macunu only cost one Turkish lira apiece. This peddler was in Sultanahmet Park, near the Blue Mosque. There was also another peddler stationed behind Hagia Sophia (Ayasofya), which you’re not bound to miss on the way to Basilica Cistern or Topkapi Palace.

As for DH, he loved these fish sandwiches were are sold at the ferry docks in Eminönü.

Trivia: balik means ‘fish’ in Turkish, ‘go back’ in Malay.

The funny thing is, not of all these foods were exceptional in taste when I was in Istanbul. For instance, I found the chestnuts a bit too dry and bland in comparison to the ones sold in Malaysia which are moist and quite sweet, almost reminiscent of sweet potatoes.

But the point is, even though these foods were far from perfect, my memories of these foods form part and parcel of my memories of Istanbul, together with the sight of Marmara Sea, the Blue Mosque, the Spice Bazaar; the feel of the freezing winds at the rooftop of Hali Hotel; the clackety clack followed by the grating metal braking sound of the trams that we used to take from Sultanahmet to Zeytinburnu and back; the heat of Turkish tea in those impossibly tiny cups; the tiny bits and pieces of chicken floss in between my teeth after I chew on a piece of tavuk göğsü. These are the myriad experiences that one can only get from actually traveling to a place, as compared to reading about it or watching a documentary on TV; these are the stuff that lasting memories are made of.

Then I decided to take it one step further. How about ice cream cupcakes?

I remembered seeing one video about how it’s done so I googled it up again:-

I chose to use my favourite chocolate cake recipe for the cupcake base. In hindsight, it wasn’t the best choice for ice cream cupcakes given how runny the batter is. Some of the batter seeped through the ice cream cones, leaving only half inside the cone and the other half all over the muffin baking tin.

Note to self: the next time I’ll attempt making these again, I’d have to use a recipe with a thicker batter.

For the ‘ice cream’, I whipped up some buttercream frosting, mixing in 1/4 cup Krimwell (a type of vegetable shortening specifically meant for making frosting) with 3/4 cup butter so that the frosting would last through the heat of Malaysia’s tropical weather. I’m against using shortening and other forms of transfats but since I wanted OnlyGirl to take these cupcakes to school, the frosting must not melt so I had to relent.

After the cupcakes have cooled, I piped the frosting using a big star tip and made huge ice cream-like swirls on top. I splurged on a small jar of chocolate fudge at Cold Storage, which I heated up in the microwave as per label instructions, then I piped it on top of the ice cream. Some of the cones ended up with rainbow sprinkles, others were topped with a cherry.

The only downside to this recipe is how the cones end up being soggy — and at times, a bit too chewy — once they’ve cooled down.

If I do make these again, I’d serve them while still warm (and the cones still crispy!), scoop real ice cream on top, and let the kids have a field day putting their own toppings on their ice cream cupcake cones :)

And so I relied once again on good old Google to find out what tavuk göğsü is made of. It is indeed a Turkish dessert pudding made with chicken and milk! A contradictory combination? To 21st century taste buds, perhaps. But apparently, it’s been around since the Roman times and introduced (or perhaps reintroduced) into Anatolia by the Romans. Wikipedia says it became one of the most famous delicacies served to the sultans in the Ottoman Topkapı Palace and is today considered a ‘signature’ dish of Turkey.

Personally, I found tavuk göğsü to be quite tasty and filling. But then again, I’m a Filipina who likes chicken macaroni salad that comprises of boiled elbow macaroni, mayonnaise, cheese cubes, raisins, pineapple bits, condensed milk, and shredded chicken, a sweet and savoury Filipino dish that perplexes most Malaysians except the Kelantanese, who’ve always loved all of their foods sweet.

Check out FX Cuisine’s step-by-step instructions on the making of this interesting Turkish chicken dessert.

I once thought all baklavas are created alike and taste alike. So when T — a business associate who’s a native of Istanbul — told me she knows the best place for baklava in the whole of Istanbul, I was not entirely convinced. Nonetheless, I tried to keep an open mind as her husband drove us across Atatürk Köprüsü (Atatürk Bridge) to Karaköy, a commercial neighborhood in the Beyoğlu district of Istanbul which used to be known as Galata. Our destination: Karaköy Güllüoğlu.

T briefed me that the place, having started as a family business, has a complicated history. Hence, you can find several several baklava shops all over Istanbul bearing the Güllüoğlu name but there is only one Karaköy Güllüoğlu. This particular shop is said to be the one owned by the father and is the ‘original’. Karaköy Güllüoğlu itself insists — through its website and pamphlets in several languages in its shop — that they are “the only Karaköy since 1949″, clarifying that they are “totally different and unique compared with the products of the shops with the name Güllüoğlu.” So how can you tell which shop is which? The Karaköy Güllüoğlu has the Galata Tower in its logo and their registered trademark is Nadir Güllü.

A huge crowd is always a telltale sign of good food. Or in this case, cars triple (!) parked besides the kerb in front of the shop. The next encouraging sign: nearly empty shelves! T said it’s supposed to be a 24-hour shop but the baklava was completely sold out that day. Whatever remaining baklava there was on the shelves were being packed into boxes for customers who have pre-booked them.

Thus, just minutes after we walked in, they started rolling down the shutters in front of the shop. The interesting thing is that when customers would arrive, they’d still be allowed to go in then shown the empty shelves before being politely told that all the baklava sold out for the day.

As T went to order our baklava and çay (strong Turkish tea), I sat on one of those high stools clustered around a small round table, snapping photos as discreetly as I could. My face broke into a huge grin when she reappeared at my side with a plate of pistachio baklava served with a huge scoop of kaymak (Turkish clotted cream).

T’s husband then demonstrated to me the proper way of eating a baklava — he angled a slice of baklava slightly so that he could pierce it with his fork from the bottom at a slight angle [NB: approximately 1/3 of the piece should be behind the fork, the upper 2/3 facing you, so as not to break the layers], smeared a bit of kaymak on the slice, then popped the baklava upside-down into his mouth. This way, he explained, the thin phyllo layers on top can melt on your tongue. He also added that what sets Karaköy Güllüoğlu’s baklava apart from all other baklavas is how you can actually hear the layers of phyllo pastry crackling as you bite into a slice.

I followed his lead and obediently did everything that he said, including smearing my baklava slice with kaymak. I closed my eyes and let out a prolonged “mmmmmm…”. It was heavenly! The strange thing is: it wasn’t as sweet as all other baklavas I’ve tasted before. And I think I know why: if you look closely at the photo, only the lower layers of phyllo pastry are drenched in syrup; the upper layers aren’t, which explains how they retain their crispiness.

Quality always comes at a premium and Karaköy Güllüoğlu is not an exception: the lowest price I’ve seen in its shop is TL28 (Turkish Lira) for one kilogram of the heavenly treat. In contrast, prices at a Gaziantep shop at the Egyptian Spice Bazaar start from TL16. Despite the steeper prices, I still would have gladly bought a box or two of the delicious treats. Unfortunately, since all of the shop’s baklava were sold out that night, there was nothing left for us to pack up and bring back to the hotel.

T and I started off the evening as business associates discussing products, orders and shipments over an awesome fish dinner at Cibali Balikçisi; we ended the night like long-lost friends savouring baklava and kaymak with tiny cups of piping hot çay at the legend that is Karaköy Güllüoğlu.

This is not a paid post, but if Karaköy Güllüoğlu offers me some free baklava the next time I’m in Istanbul, I’d be more than happy to take it ;)

………………………………………
Karaköy Güllüoğlu
Rihtim Street, Katli Otopark Alti
Karaköy, Istanbul – Turkey
Tel: +90 212 293 09 10
http://www.karakoygulluoglu.com/

So on our first night in Istanbul, after a hearty dinner at one of Sultanahmet’s restaurants in Divan Yolu (which was ho-hum, considering that I didn’t bother remembering the restaurant’s name), I was on the lookout for some dondurma. I thought I saw it displayed outside one of the other restaurants but probably owing to the rain, it was nowhere to be seen that night. So DH and I slowly walked back to Hali Hotel (review coming up soon, promise!), keeping our eyes peeled for some other shop that sold it. My heart leaped when I saw ‘Dondurma‘ outside this pastry shop with a simple sign on the display glass that simply said ‘Çiğdem Pastanesi · Dondurma · Ice Cream‘.

It looked nothing like an ice cream shop; afterall, it only displayed pastries, albeit delectable-looking ones at that! Undaunted, I walked into the small shop and asked the man behind the counter if they had any ice cream. Unsmiling, he pointed towards the back. Eager to have my first taste of dondurma, I ignored his seeming aloofness and had to stifle a squeal of delight when I finally saw the familiar shape of a small ice cream freezer in the left hand corner, just after the pastries counter.

There were 6 flavours or so, all unlabeled. One tub that held light golden-brown ice cream with dark flakes caught my eye and I eagerly pointed at it. “Caramel,” the man said. I asked how much one scoop costs. When he answered “One lira“, I thought I heard wrong so I simply asked for one scoop, fearful of either having to shell out a lot more than what I thought I heard him say…or ending up not liking the ice cream and regretting buying too much of it. I took my cone with its single scoop of ice cream and nervously plunked a 1-Lira coin on the counter. The cashier took it without questions, I murmured “Teşhekkur” and walked out of the shop lest he changed his mind and asked me to pay more for the ice cream.

Outside the shop, DH grinned at me, bemused at my perseverance. I licked the ice cream…and let out a moan of delight. My goodness! I’ve had ice cream. And I’ve had ice cream. But this was unlike any other ice cream than I ever had in my entire life. It was thick and creamy and so delectable. DH thought I was exaggerating so he tasted the ice cream…and had a bit more…and a bit more…and a bit more. My husband, who’s not really into this sort of stuff, practically devoured half of my ice cream cone!

The next night, we went to Çiğdem Pastanesi once again…and bought one ice cream cone each.

P.S. There’s also a shop that sells dondurma inside Atatürk Airport but as all airports go, prices there are skyhigh — 5 Turkish Lira or 3 Euros a scoop!

————————–

Çiğdem Pastanesi
Address: Divan Yolu Caddesi 62A Sultanahmet
Getting there: Take a tram to Sultanahmet/Blue Mosque
Phone: 212 526 8859
Hours: 8am-11pm

Lonely Planet’s review for Çiğdem Pastanesi simply reads:

“Çiğdem Pastanesi has been serving locals since 1961, and it’s still going strong. The ay çöreğı (pastry with walnut, sultana and spice filling) is the perfect accompaniment to a cappuccino, and a cheese börek goes wonderfully well with a cup of tea or fresh juice.”

The cake came out soft, moist, and lovely, although it was a bit too sweet for my taste. So next time, I will probably reduce the sugar to just 1 cup instead of the original 2 cups.

I whipped up some frosting using whipping cream, cream cheese, icing sugar, and vanilla, playing it by ear with the measurements. I guess that’s why the icing ended up quite runny but the kids loved how the cake looked anyway.

I used up the extra strawberries that I had as garnishing on top, as well as filling in between the two layers. The slight tartness of the strawberries balanced out the sweetness of the cake and the frosting.

The children made short work of the cake, finishing up everything in less than an hour — a sure sign that this recipe’s a keeper. One more cake recipe to add to my files at long last!

And the moment everything gets all wet and cold and gloomy, a certain hunger is stirred inside of me — the hunger for comfort food like steaming hot Indonesian bakso…

Excellent bakso that I had in Jakarta. Sorry if the colours are a bit off. Shot with a Nokia N82.

There’s a certain je-ne-sais-quoi in the genuine Indonesian version that just makes it so hard to replicate. Perhaps it’s something in the meatballs. Perhaps in the bumbu (spices). Perhaps it’s only the Sasa/Ajinomoto (popular brands of MSG in Indonesia). Or perhaps it’s all in the special brand of Vitamin D — Vitamin Debu (dust) — that unwittingly gets into the bakso as it is being prepared by the roadside hawker!