Located in Kadiköy, but I've forgotten the street. Near Güneşlibahçe Street, where we found Çiya and Eta Bal. Later I found out there was another branch in Sirkeci near our hotel. We were stuffed after Çiya (well, except Rubina, who has a "dessert stomach") but as soon as I saw the name "Gaziantep" on the sign I knew we'd have to stop. The most amazing baklava I'd ever tasted was in Antep last year and I hoped this Istanbul outpost could replicate it.

The young clerk's face split wide open beaming when we entered. He spoke about 20 words of English; our Turkish was worse. Food was our only common ground. He watched us babbling in our unintelligible language, then participated in the conversation by donating free samples. We tried chocolate-coated baklava, extra-intense pistachio durum, kadayif soaked in milk...the more we cooed over the desserts' impossible sweetness, the more the boy's sweetness increased.

Soon his brother stopped by to check out the fuss. Then his friend from the store next door wandered over. Who was left watching his store? I guess when random giggling American women show up in Kadiköy, who needs to make a sale?

The boys were eager to pose for photos, as usual, and we were happy to take advantage of their good nature. Every time Jamie aimed her camera, the baklavalari clerk would self-consciously ensure a different pan of baklava was featured, carefully clearing out stray crumbs and straightening the rows of pastry if needed. It was too cute to be believed.

We had spent about half an hour laughing so hard with these boys our stomachs ached. Back in New York, every delicious piece of chocolate baklava induced wonderful memories.

<   previous      •      next   >