Simit carts are to Turkey what Starbucks are to America: there's one on every corner. Sometimes two.
But simit is just the tip of the glutenous iceberg. Behind the glass of the red and gold carts, you'll find flour and yeast in just about every possible combination; sweet or salty, doughy or flaky, subtle or nuanced. And while I'd argue you can't go wrong by pointing at whatever looks good, it's nice to know the börek you ordered is stuffed with mashed potatoes -- before you bite into it.
And so I present, a far-from-difinitive-yet-always-growing guide to Turkish patries.
Simit (sih-mit)
''Turkish bagel''
If one food could represent Turkey, it would be simit. These wide, thin, sesame-seed encrusted rings are everywhere, though the flavor varies from region to region. Early in the morning, they're soft and chewy, like a bagel. While later in the day or in Ankara, they're crispy like a pretzel.
Gevrek (gehv-rek)
''Turkish bagel from İzmir''
If you want simit in İzmir (and don't want to look like a tourist), ask for gevrek.
Boyoz (booh-YOWZS)
''Turkish croissant''
There are a lot of reasons to love İzmir -- the accessible waterfront walkway, the mild winter, the laid-back, liberal culture -- but boyoz is one of the tastiest. It's flaky on the outside, doughy on the inside. The slight greasiness gives me the same indulgent feeling as a buttery croissant, but it's salty, with just a hint of nutty tahini.
But simit is just the tip of the glutenous iceberg. Behind the glass of the red and gold carts, you'll find flour and yeast in just about every possible combination; sweet or salty, doughy or flaky, subtle or nuanced. And while I'd argue you can't go wrong by pointing at whatever looks good, it's nice to know the börek you ordered is stuffed with mashed potatoes -- before you bite into it.
And so I present, a far-from-difinitive-yet-always-growing guide to Turkish patries.
Simit (sih-mit)
''Turkish bagel''
If one food could represent Turkey, it would be simit. These wide, thin, sesame-seed encrusted rings are everywhere, though the flavor varies from region to region. Early in the morning, they're soft and chewy, like a bagel. While later in the day or in Ankara, they're crispy like a pretzel.
Gevrek (gehv-rek)
''Turkish bagel from İzmir''
If you want simit in İzmir (and don't want to look like a tourist), ask for gevrek.
Boyoz (booh-YOWZS)
''Turkish croissant''
There are a lot of reasons to love İzmir -- the accessible waterfront walkway, the mild winter, the laid-back, liberal culture -- but boyoz is one of the tastiest. It's flaky on the outside, doughy on the inside. The slight greasiness gives me the same indulgent feeling as a buttery croissant, but it's salty, with just a hint of nutty tahini.
Poğaça (poe-AH-cha)
''Turkish hand pie''
These stuffed pastries are usually oval or round, and look like puffy golden dinner rolls, often speckled with little black sesame seeds. There are several folding techniques though, so be prepared for poğaça that are rolled up like ding-dongs or folded like calzone. Common flavors include:
Kumru (khoom-roo)
''The dove sandwich''
Kumru means ''collared dove'' in Turkish, which makes a lot more sense when you find out these sandwiches used to be made with round simit, which resembles the black collar markings around the dove's necks. I suppose you could argue the name stuck around because the new bread is plump in the middle but curves gracefully into defined points at each end, like a dove's round belly and thin neck.
...Yeah, it's a stretch.
But who cares, it's delicious. The bread is soft, sliced only halfway through and stuffed with tomato slices, sheep cheese, and occasionally (or if you ask for it) a bright green pepper. Supposedly they're also made with spicy sucak sausage in some areas, but apparently those areas are not İzmir. The vendor may offer you salt and oil -- but don't worry, if you don't understand what he says he'll add it for you. He* knows it tastes better that way.
*This paragraph is not sexist. There really aren't any female simit vendors.
Tahinli Ekmek (tah-HEEN-lee EHK-mehk)
''Turkish cinnamon roll''
Imagine a cinnamon roll. Now imagine a cinnamon roll made with peanut butter. Are you drooling yet? That's what tahinli ekmek tastes like. And it's amazing. Hands down my favorite.
It's not acutally made with peanut butter, but the nutty sweetness of tahini comes pretty close. (Sidenote: imported JIF sells for 35 TL a jar! Don't ask me how I know this.)
Çikolatalı Rulo Ekmek (chee-kho-LAHT-luh ROO-lo EHK-mehk)
''Turkish swirl bread''
What first struck me was the heft. I handed the gevrek guy my 1.50 TL, and the pastry plopped into my hand like a soft brick. One bite in I swore I wouldn't eat it all at once. I lied.
Much like pinwheel cookies or swirl bread, this dense pastry is made by rolling together two thin layers of bread and chocolate. The kind I tried was sliced while raw and baked individually, but it can also be baked as a loaf and sold in slices. Mine also had a couple hazelnuts hidden inside its chocolatey center, and crumbled on top.
The chocolate and hazelnut was nice, but the bread was a bit dense. And to my American tastebuds, it just wasn't sweet enough for the chocolate to be satisfying.
''Turkish hand pie''
These stuffed pastries are usually oval or round, and look like puffy golden dinner rolls, often speckled with little black sesame seeds. There are several folding techniques though, so be prepared for poğaça that are rolled up like ding-dongs or folded like calzone. Common flavors include:
- Patanesli Poğaça - stuffed with mashed potatoes. Tastes like Thanksgiving leftovers!
- Peynirli Poğaça - stuffed with cheese. NOT a fan of these. The cheese is all dry and crumbly and they just make me thirsty.
- Domatesli Peynirli Poğaça - stuffed with cheese and sliced tomato. Oh the difference a tomato makes! The tomato keeps the cheese moist and reminds me of a tiny tomato and mozzarella panino.
Kumru (khoom-roo)
''The dove sandwich''
Kumru means ''collared dove'' in Turkish, which makes a lot more sense when you find out these sandwiches used to be made with round simit, which resembles the black collar markings around the dove's necks. I suppose you could argue the name stuck around because the new bread is plump in the middle but curves gracefully into defined points at each end, like a dove's round belly and thin neck.
...Yeah, it's a stretch.
But who cares, it's delicious. The bread is soft, sliced only halfway through and stuffed with tomato slices, sheep cheese, and occasionally (or if you ask for it) a bright green pepper. Supposedly they're also made with spicy sucak sausage in some areas, but apparently those areas are not İzmir. The vendor may offer you salt and oil -- but don't worry, if you don't understand what he says he'll add it for you. He* knows it tastes better that way.
*This paragraph is not sexist. There really aren't any female simit vendors.
Tahinli Ekmek (tah-HEEN-lee EHK-mehk)
''Turkish cinnamon roll''
Imagine a cinnamon roll. Now imagine a cinnamon roll made with peanut butter. Are you drooling yet? That's what tahinli ekmek tastes like. And it's amazing. Hands down my favorite.
It's not acutally made with peanut butter, but the nutty sweetness of tahini comes pretty close. (Sidenote: imported JIF sells for 35 TL a jar! Don't ask me how I know this.)
Çikolatalı Rulo Ekmek (chee-kho-LAHT-luh ROO-lo EHK-mehk)
''Turkish swirl bread''
What first struck me was the heft. I handed the gevrek guy my 1.50 TL, and the pastry plopped into my hand like a soft brick. One bite in I swore I wouldn't eat it all at once. I lied.
Much like pinwheel cookies or swirl bread, this dense pastry is made by rolling together two thin layers of bread and chocolate. The kind I tried was sliced while raw and baked individually, but it can also be baked as a loaf and sold in slices. Mine also had a couple hazelnuts hidden inside its chocolatey center, and crumbled on top.
The chocolate and hazelnut was nice, but the bread was a bit dense. And to my American tastebuds, it just wasn't sweet enough for the chocolate to be satisfying.