Ashkenazai Synogague

This synagogue is located in Karakoy, Istanbul. It's well-hidden, but if you look up between the right buildings, you'll see it.

Collaged block print, 2010

Pumpkin Processing - Doing It From Scratch!

I've been eyeing my neighbour's mini-pumpkin patch behind her house and it's five perfect flame coloured pumpkins. I'm really too old to raid a pumpkin patch (aren't I?), so I was happy when she offered one up on the condition I not just make a jack-o-lantern out of it. 

I love anything pumpkin, missed it terribly in Istanbul, and am now staying in Naramata, which has the fine distiction of being one of only two Cittaslow communities in Canada!

So let the processing begin!

Love that colour! Ok ,first I scrubbed this baby. 

Notice this isn't a sugar or pie pumpkin, just your average pumpkin pumpkin.

I should say that Turkey does have pumpkins, and last year at this time I watched the little old ladies of Cappadoccia split open pumpkin after pumpkin, scoop out the seeds and throw the rest away! 

Don't believe me?)

Here's a load of scooped gourds headed for the compost! 

(This pic was taken on the street in Goreme.)

I digress! Back to the job at hand. With great effort this thing got split in half. I did it using a rolling pin, a dishtowel and a big knife I wasn't in love with. BANG! BANG! BANG! 

(I also waited till mom wasn't home, for some reason, loud banging in the kitchen distresses her.)

Face down on foil. My mom has a convection oven. (Love the convection oven!) 

Hot air cooks food 25% faster at a lower temp!

Forty-five minutes later...

...mushy!

I let it cool a bit and peeled the skin off leaving just the pulp behind. The pulp got pureed through a blender and produced about 8 cups of pumpkin puree. 

Obviously, this isn't hard, just messy and time consuming. I can see the attraction to canned pumpkin, but this is Cittaslow designated Naramata! No shortcuts here!

Walnut pumpkin muffins. 

The walnuts came from our friend Ricky's huge walnut trees. Keeping with the slow food movement, we collect bags of them every fall, dry them and use a hammer to crack'em. Our fingers get red and tender quickly, so it's best done slowly over a few weeks.

And two thanksgiving pies!

These pies were good, despite not being made from proper pie pumpkins. Would I do this again instead of canned? Actually, yes. 

But not this year. The next pumpkin I process is going to have a candle inside!

My Story in Wanderlust and Lipstick!

Although I didn't win the Wanderlust and Lipstick travel writing contest, the website liked my story and asked if they could publish it anyway. Here is my risky entirely-written-in-the-present-tense story!

(And yes! Those are my and Melanie's feet jammed into hamam slippers!)

14 Photos From 2009

While organizing photos this weekend I came across several photos I haven't shared on this blog, but I still like. They were all taken by me in 2009. Here they are, hope you like them!

Gypsy flower sellers in Kadikoy, Istanbul, Turkey.

I love their mishmash of prints.

A man and wife's catch of the day in Chios, Greece.

They were quite proud, this was tonight's dinner. 

Balloons at sunrise over Goreme, Cappadocia, Turkey.

Every morning 40-50 balloons hover over the town at sunrise, 

well worth running to the roof in your pajamas.

Upon landing in a field outside Goreme, 

our balloon operators deal with the rapidly deflating balloon.

I was actually still in the basket when I took this shot.

My hometown of Naramata, BC on Christmas Day. 

That's my sis on the far dock.

The Bosphorus at sunset, Istanbul, Turkey.

My old apartment is left of the mosque.

My mom inside an old abandoned windmill, Chios Greece.

It was Mom's lifelong dream to visit Greece.

Romanian priests in Cappadocia, Turkey.

Taken outside the cave churches at the Open Air Museum in Goreme.

Woman in a church, Mytillini, Lesvos Greece. 

I love Greek churches and the people who visit them.

 

Mom, Mel and I all taking photos in Pyrgi, Chios, Greece.

Mel's putting her yoga skills to work. 

Ferrari World in Abu Dhabi, UAE. 

Taken from the plane. It's huge.

Sunday Morning at a cafe in Al Ain, UAE.

Almonds on ice, Cesme, Turkey.

Street treats are seasonal; iced almonds are only available in summer.

Balat, Istanbul - Tourists rarely visit 

this old Greek and Jewish area, 

but it was one of my favorite areas to wander.

Turkey VS California

I once heard that bay leaves from California will make everything you cook taste like Vick's Vapo-rub, and that you should only get bay leaves from Turkey.

So what happens when you are asked to make consommé on the weekend, you're on a tight budget, and the store carries two types of bay leaves - California at $3.49 a bag or Turkish at $5.99 a bag?

You splurge on the Turkish ones! I still love ya, Turkey! (But I wish I'd "trimmed" those bushes down by the football field!)

Day Trip From Istanbul: Iznik

As the deadline for our departure back to Canada loomed, we knew we had to get organised. Too many little things needed to be done, and time was slipping away. Mel and I sat down a drafted a list. Most of the items were mundane like "repair jewelry" and "get quotes on shipping", but number 11 sat in amongst these tasks like a jewel.

11. Go to Iznik.

Iznik had long occupied a place on my "to do" list. Always put off in favor of other trips and excursions, her number was up. Mel and I were determined not to leave Turkey without a visit.

We set a day.

I got the flu and postponed the trip.

We set another day.

The day before we were to leave, we learned there was going to be a public transport strike and all busses and ferries were going to be cancelled for the day. The information was incomplete and unclear, but on Thursday morning bright and early we made our way to Yenikapi ferry terminal and (thankfully) boarded the ferry for Yalova.

We stood on the ferry and watched the sun rise over the Marmara sea and thousands of seagulls swarm the fishing boats as they steamed into the Kumkapi market with their catches destined for the tables of the classy Balik Sokak (Fish Street) restaurants.

The Blue Mosque, along with our little apartment in the background, fade off in the distance. This was in late November, when morning fog is a normal occurrence.

Off the boat in Yalova, we hopped a

local minibus, an hour later we arrived in Iznik.

I was pleasantly surprised by Iznik, and immediately wished I'd made the trip sooner. The small cobbled streets were lined with huge maple trees, displaying bright fall colours. Mosques, museums and ruined Byzantine churches lined the quaint narrow streets, and of course local shops sold Iznik-style ceramics. (Back in the 17th century, Iznik was an important centre producing ceramic tiles for all of the Ottoman mosques and palaces. Although little is produced here these days, the design of tile still holds the name "Iznik".) One man beckoned us to take pictures of his antique hamam.

"That's the men's section!" I feigned shock.

"Haha! No problem! I'll kick the men out!" he joked.

Transportation of choice in this agricultural town in definitely the tractor. Brightly painted and parked outside of houses, these vehicles hauled the towns produce from field to market. I asked one man what he was hauling, it turned out to be olives, on the way to the mill to be pressed for oil. Other tractor's wagons were full of walnuts, sheep, massive cabbages and bright persimmons.

The green Mosque, with it's original

Iznik tile decoration around the minaret.

We wandered the streets with a little map from the information centre, stumbling upon buildings and sites. We visited the city wall and gates and stumbled upon the Green Mosque, among the top sites in Iznik. Mel and I adored this building, its proportion, decoration and design had our cameras busily working away from every angle.

Front door of the Green Mosque.

Iznik is located on the shores of Iznik Lake. We quickly fount that walking from one of end of the town to the other took about 20 minutes at a leisurely pace, within minutes we found ourselves slipping through a little doorway in the city wall and standing on a very nicely kept beach. Here we met Mehmet and his little dog - Raki. (Best name ever for this little white dog with attitude!)

Mehmet and Raki

Glass-like waters of Iznik Lake.

The next day would be Kurban Bayram, or the "Sacrifice Holiday". Traditionally, families sacrifice a sheep or cow and distribute a portion of the meat to poor families. All over Iznik we saw sheep being taken home in preparation for the next day's activities. They were carted around in trucks, on tractors and even walked home on leashes like the family dog. Poor sheep.

Unwilling. Do they know?

We loved Iznik for many obvious reasons - its interesting buildings, friendly locals and small town vibe, but what makes this place stands out from other day trips from Istanbul is its lack of tourism in a place that would be IDEAL for summer vacations. A large lake for swimming and boating, flat terrain for cycling, and gorgeous fresh produce!

We left Iznik for Yalova in the evening, as the sun set on this precious little town, and I finally crossed number 11 of my list.

Mardin! (as promised)

Can we put our finger on what makes us love Mardin so? Is it the gorgeous setting on the side of a mountain with the dramatic scenery of patchwork plains spread out before us? Is it the local arts and crafts that are still practiced with masterful skill in the shops and bazaars everyday? Or is it the exotic honey-coloured stone buildings, intricately carved into flowers and geometric designs?

Mardin bazaar, where you can buy anything from a wedding dress to live chickens!

Obviously we love Mardin. An ancient, multi-ethnic, busy town that makes you feel you’ve stepped back in time. Donkeys click-clack through the streets, mosques with unique little pomegranate tops and people who still welcome visitors with a heartfelt “Hosgeldiniz!”

Ablutions before prayers.

Mardin minaret and plateau of farmland that stretches all the way to Syria.

Olive oil soap in the bazaar carved in the style of local mosques.

Time spent wandering the streets and bazaars of this town is well spent. Wood and metal workers create unique little pieces in tiny little workshops, inviting you in for tea and showing you their wares.

Mosques with ornate Syrian-style minarets and ribbed domes litter the hillside. In the evening when the temperature cools, everyone comes outdoors to socialize and children fly kites high above the town. It’s rumored the Garden of Eden may have been located near here, and we believe it!

Above: View from (and of) our hotel, a 500-year old caravansary!

Below: More ablutions...

Istanbul Eats: Istanbul's Top Ten Restaurants

"spinach parcels" - seriously cute, seriously yummy!

One of my favorite websites on the Turkish dining experience is Istanbul Eats. Istanbul was in dire need of an English-language site that discussed the cuisine of our fair city in an intelligent and honest way. Istanbul Eats filled that void with gusto and is a guest blogger at the World Foodie Guide this week. Here is their excellent and informed list of Istanbul's Top Ten. Afiyet Olsun!

Hasankeyf: Are Her Days Numbered?

As our minibus rounds the corner and Hasankeyf comes into view, both sisters become visibly excited. “Let’s go!” and we're off across the bridge for a second glimpse of our first look at this ancient city straddling the Tigris River. A sweeping view of cave houses, ancient minarets, ruins and of course the blue-green of the Tigris as she slips past sheep and cattle grazing along her shores. Below children swim and fish in the river, enjoying their lazy-days-of-summer youth, without a care in the world.

The old minaret in the village.

There are two staircases inside that wrap like a double helix.

But the world cares, and many eyes have turned to this sleepy ancient town in Eastern Turkey. Once the Ilusu Dam is completed 90km down-river, Hasankeyf will be lost forever under rising waters.

Although the town made the list of the World's 100 Most Endangered Sites, locals are in denial.

“Foreign governments are pulling out their support, it will never happen,” a local waiter tells us. He's right; Austria, Germany and Switzerland have all opted out of the project. Another young man, selling carpets made from the hair of his grandfather’s goats plans to move on, “After military service, I’ll settle somewhere else, who can live like this?”

As we explore the old cave area of Hasankeyf, an old woman standing on her cave balcony waves to us and beckons us to come up. We scramble up the side of the cliff as she points out the way, and we are invited into her home, introduced to her grandson and given a cold glass of water from her huge Arcelik-brand fridge, the only appliance in her house. Perched on top is a wild looking skinny little cat, which scurries away when she sees visitors arrive.

There are two rooms here, one looks like storage, and something is scurrying around back there, and I tell myself it’s just the cat.

The main room has a large raised platform, which serves as a bed and sitting area. There are carpets, pillows and sheets everywhere, as well as several plastic containers full of water. Laundry is strung across a line dissecting the room.

I summon up my Turkish and ask her how long she’s been living here.

“Hasankeyf”, she responds. Doubting my Turkish skills, I ask her how many people live here.

“Hasankeyf”, she responds.

“Tu chowani?”, (How are you?) I inquire, (one of the 2 Kurdish phrases I know). Her face lights up and she replies, “Ez bashim!” (I’m good!)

I manage to surmise that five people live in the cave house, and she was born there. The power comes from an extension cord that runs up the mountain and the only appliance it runs is the fridge.

She lets us take a few pictures of her home and points out a few cherished items, a photo here, a trinket there. She shows off a few handkerchiefs and headscarves that she’s tatted around the outside. Mel and I pick a white one with blue beads. The lira we pay for the headscarf is more of a donation, the experience of being able to sit in this woman's home and observe a fading and endangered way of life is priceless.

Later, a café worker would tell us that she is one of only a handful of people still living the cave life in Hasankeyf, the others have moved into houses in the village.

“There used to be a family living in the castle, but they finally moved down to the village, all the water they used had to be transported by donkey up the mountain. It was so hard in winter.”