Dining: Çiya Sofrasi

Located in Kadiköy on the chaotic Asian side, Çiya took some finding. After disembarking from the ferry, we promptly headed in the wrong direction. Once re-oriented, we stopped every few feet to ask directions—on a busy market day, no less. To our group of New Yorkers, it was akin to being lost in Queens. We wandered through fish markets, finding Güneşlibahçe Street by luck. Dragging ourselves past the tempting honey store, we found two Çiya options: one serving kebabs and one serving "rural foods." Starving, we chose the latter—Çiya Sofrasi.

I told the host we had "six" in Turkish, which sparked a longer Turkish response. Once they realized I was just posing, the staff rearranged to give us the English-speaking waiter, who begged, "Please? I help you?" So sweet and friendly, we loved him instantly. At the restaurant's front counter, he pointed out various hot dishes. I recognized içli kofte from my time in the Southeast, prompting another outburst of excited Turkish. He was so darling I was more embarrassed than usual at my lack of language skills.

It was clear he wanted to choose our hot items for us, so we ordered a dish of Iskender kebab—a caloric bomb of döner meat, yogurt and tomato sauce over pide bread—and left the rest in his hands. My friends returned upstairs and I chose from the cold items bar as our waiter hovered nearby, radiating helpfulness. Plenty of eggplant dishes were available, as well as tightly-rolled small dolmades, mouhamara (walnut pepper paste), hummus and vegetable delicacies.

Dish after dish of deliciousness appeared at our table. Creamy soups, stuffed artichokes, baked eggplant swimming in yogurt, and a cylindrical pastry filled with chicken demonstrated the best of Turkish cuisine. My friends were underwhelmed with içli kofte, much as I was last year. The fried parcels filled with minced lamb sound wonderful but are really pretty dry and tasteless. Everything else was luscious.

Overfed and loving it, we got such a kick out of the friendly waiter calling himself "the Turkish John Travolta." We were so full we forgot we'd ordered Iskender, which ended up being the best I'd ever had. The chunks of pide tasted of pure butter, the meat was incredibly tender and moist, the tomato sauce the ultimate complement. It was well worth the ensuing food coma to taste that gourmet rendition—and a bargain because we couldn't eat another meal all day.


Iskender kebab—the best rendition I've ever tasted

"John Travolta" was a paragon of hospitality. Adorably, when we requested a photo, he first ran to the bathroom to primp. Çiya's deliciousness and charm made for an incredible experience; I feel like we lucked into the best restaurant in Istanbul.

Cost: 20YTL each.
Çiya website (Turkish only)

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All photos & text © Nancy Chuang 2012