I’ve eaten here as many times as at nearby Kanaat, more if you count the number of times we have taken food away, or, when we were being really lazy, ordered in. This blog is starting to make it look like I can’t cook which is totally untrue. Not only can I cook, I can cook some Turkish things as well as some people’s mothers but until I get some kind of big fat diamond finger adornment, I won’t be in the kitchen every night just because my Turkish boyfriend refuses to learn to cook. Actually he can make a plain omelette, salad and, once, with detailed phone guidance, boiled pasta.
However, the things Genç excels at make it hardly worth the hours of pinny wearing time it would take just to make a passable attempt at home. Their çig köfte (raw meat meatballs) is fantastic when they have it. I am as surprised as anyone who knows me would be that I like raw meat. I’ve always wondered how any civilised nation could have dreamed up steak tartare and cannot understand why anyone would want to eat steaks that look like open wounds. But such is the wonder of Turkish food.
The lahmacun (thin turkish style pizza) is glorious too. It’s best eaten all rolled up with salad inside and lemon juice squeezed on top and not, as I assumed when I first arrived, flat like an Italian pizza. You definitely need chewing gum to hand afterwards, even if your fellow diners or people you hope to kiss are eating it too.
I often have ezo gelin çorba (spicy red lentil, bulgur and mint soup) even though I can make that perfectly well myself. But it always comes with warm, fresh pide and that I can’t whip up. The pides that are like long oval pizzas with cheese or meat or Turkish sausage are not bad either. In fact although I haven’t experimented much with Genç, nothing I’ve tried has been anything less than great. And I have it on reliable authority that having the Adana kebab at least twice a week is preferable to boiling pasta yourself when your girlfriend isn’t visiting.
Mimarsinan Mh., 34664 Üsküdar