I’m sorry, green beans and eggplant. I misjudged you, but only because I ate some disgusting eggplant dish at an upscale restaurant where I had to discreetly spit the offensive substance into my napkin and quickly rinse my mouth with water, and because of all those pitiable school lunches in elementary school when I was served some green bean slop in one of the little compartments of my plastic tray. I’m so glad I have come to Turkey where eggplant and green beans have had the opportunity to redeem themselves in my eyes, and my mouth. After all, everybody deserves a second chance. Turks can do no harm to food and I’m lucky to have found a man who is an amazing cook. I know that was quick. I mean, I haven’t even unpacked and already, I’ve found someone. I enjoy watching him cook, because he treats cooking like a science. With Turkish pop music playing, he’ll roast an eggplant directly on the stove’s burner, peel it, dice it up, stir in some crushed garlic and pour melted butter and chili powder over the top. The other night, he made a fantastic green bean stew. When the call to prayer sounded from a nearby mosque, he turned down the music out of respect.
I’m really happy. In the beginning, I wasn't so sure everything would be okay. I've been falling asleep to the sound of street music, yowls from stray cats mating, and chatter from people socializing. I’m feeling relaxed these days, and now that I've gone shopping, I don’t have to worry quite so much about my sartorial likeness to Velma from Scooby Doo.
Below are some photos taken from a great spot in Uskudar, and me dressed as a Turkish soccer fan.
Until next time.
Until next time.