Turkish Delights

Food is the heart of a culture and its identity, so I have invited authors to share the plates of food offered in their delicious words. Beth Elliott has invited me to join her at her table, in Turkey. Travel with me to enjoy the vibrant colours and fresh flavours of Turkish food.  A decadent Turkish feast awaits you in Beth’s travel article.

Friends,

This is the end of a travel article called Cherries and Plums, about a Turkish mountain village [yayla] in the Taurus, north of Adana. My husband was Turkish and his kind relatives invite me to stay with them each summer. Of course, they like the coolest places they can find, hence a cottage as high up in the mountains as they could go.

Best wishes,

Beth

Extract – Cherries and Plumbs

All the plum trees in everyone’s garden up in the yayla are bent nearly double under their load of purple-sheened fruit. It takes several days to pick all those we can reach. After making jam until we have used up all the sugar and run out of jars; after filling five kilo bags for each of a dozen friends and relatives in the city and after eating as many raw plums as we dare, the rest at the top of the tree are left for the birds.

In September in the main street of Tekir there is a slightly melancholy air. The summer crowds have gone. Now the weather is cooler down in Adana, the townsfolk don’t come up to their country cottages so much. A few elderly men in traditional baggy trousers shuffle along the street to their favourite café. There they will read the newspaper, talk with friends and watch the much reduced world go by.

The street is lined with mighty trees. They provide shelter from sun and rain. Little shops expand onto the pavement with displays of thick jumpers and woolly waistcoats, hardware, newspapers and strong shoes, in preparation for the snow of the coming winter. Alongside the general stores, are food shops. The large number of refrigerated stalls stocked with great tubs of thick, creamy yoghurt and pails of local white cheese reflect the importance of these items in the traditional Turkish diet.

Nearby, another shop also has a refrigerated display, this time of glorious plump green and black olives and turshu – mixed pickled vegetables. On the counter are oblong containers of honeycomb, oozing golden and sweet. The irresistible smell of fresh bread: loaves or the flat pide, wafts to our nostrils.

Everything is piled into the car. We set off slowly down the main street, across the bridge, turn sharply at the edge of town where the houses thin out and the fruit trees begin. The car twists and turns its way uphill. We go past the new mosque with its little pocket money shop underneath [useful for biscuits and matches].

Here the mountain sweeps out into a shelf where shepherds pasture their flocks in the hot summer months. The larch trees grow from this point up. Great cobbles are set in the track to stop wheels losing their grip in wet or snowy weather. The car creeps up in second gear and at last we reach the yayla, set so high above the valley but still far below the sheer grey wall of rock that makes a sharp outline against the sky. Somewhere over the ridge is the eagle’s eyrie.

For the evening meal we have hot yoghurt soup – called, appropriately, yayla soup. This is followed by salad, cheese and olives. Then we fall upon the fresh bread and honey. To finish, there is a huge bowl of plums.

Jessie:  This is a wonderful article.  I would like to know more about Turkish food.

Beth: I have some photographs to tempt you.

Here is the main market in Adana. Four types of beans, three sorts of peppers, all fresh that morning. Turks won’t eat produce unless it’s of that day.

Breakfast at my aunt’s home. Four sorts of white cheese plus one hard cheese, kaymak, olives, salad, dried apricots, walnuts, honey and grape syrup [pekmez]. The boiled eggs and the freshly squeezed orange juice were added soon afterwards…

Another breakfast, at my brother and sister-in-laws’ home. Again, white and hard cheeses, olives, eggs, some fruit compotes, honeycomb and rosehip puree. All washed down with many glasses of tea.

The town of Akcatekir on the valley floor. The holiday villages are up in those pinewoods, near the rock wall, where the goats scamper along all day and the eagles fly out occasionally from over the top.

Jessie:  The tables presented speak volumes about the generosity of the Turkish culture.  Tell me how your love of Turkish culture influenced your novel, Scandalous Lady.

Beth Elliott’s fiery, rebellious artist Olivia falls in love with the magical land of Turkey. When she encounters mysterious, ice-cold diplomat Selim, nothing goes to plan – for either of them. Is Olivia destined to live a life of solitude and regret? Or will her past stay buried long enough for her to have her happy ending?

From a young age, Beth made up adventure stories and persuaded her friends to act them out with her. Writing the novels came later, after a career as a Languages teacher in several countries. Her own Mr Darcy being Turkish, Beth adds a few exotic elements into some of her Regency Tales.

 

 

 

I hope you enjoyed a taste of Turkish culture.  Please contact me at mailto:JessieCahalin@aol.co.uk if you would like to share your cultural experiences via food and words.

 

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