After my first day in Goreme, I have not yet broken in with any other travelers. It's remarkable how much easier it is to meet people in less-touristy places; it's as if travelers are so shocked to spot each other, it's an instant bond. Here, many people arrived with their clique in tow.

So, I wander down to Pide House to dine alone. The restaurant is centrally-located and impossible to miss. Pide is like a Turkish pizza, a chewy flatbread covered with cheese, veggies, and meats. I ask for mantı, but they've run out of the delicious dumplings. I order a meat pide instead for 4.5YTL and settle in alone in the empty restaurant.

My waiter Shubin keeps me company. It turns out his uncle owns the restaurant but rarely checks in, which essentially makes Shubin in charge. He asks if I'd like some special Cappadocian wine. I hesitate, and ask how much. Appalled at my closed mind, Shubin rolls his eyes and emphasizes that he is OFFERING me wine.

The pide is excellent, as is the wine. Shubin and I effortlessly polish off two bottles. He starts to open a third but I feel slightly guilty for sponging off the restaurant, and have no need to get any drunker around a stranger. Shubin begs me to come back tomorrow, but I tell him I'm determined to find mantı tomorrow—I'm in love with the dish, which costs $14 in New York. I can't miss the opportunity.

To my delight, Shubin promises if I come back the following day at any time, he will teach me to make mantı myself.

The next day Shubin and the other waiters grin at my eager arrival. I'm led to the kitchen in front of puzzled customers. After a thorough handwash, I roll out a soft ball of dough until Shubin determines it's the proper thinness. Not thinking about the pasta's expansion after cooking, I cut approximate squares in the dough and happily overstuff them with mounds of seasoned lamb mixture. I can't manage to seal mine as perfectly as Shubin, and most of them end up in sort of a potsticker-shape.

As they cook, I note with embarrassment the dumplings are growing to about 3 times normal size. Shubin smirks but tells me I did well for a first-timer. We load up the yogurt with garlic, throw some red peppercorns into hot butter, and mix it all up in a dish.

The waiters laugh gaily when they see my gigantic mantı. "American-size!" they declare. They each take turns sampling the colossal dumplings and declare them very good despite the abnormal size. I'm a little surprised that I'm still charged for the meal, considering I did most of the labor... but I can't really be bothered about 5YTL when I'm so proud of the massive pile of immense, juicy, garlicky mantı I've created.

Totally unrelated photo, just another lovely view of Cappadocia

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