Turkey and Greece are old rivals, but relations are softening. At a time when Greece needs foreign investment, and Turkey has been told to mend fences with its neighbours to increase its chances of becoming a full member of the EU, the former foes are becoming allies, at least economically.

Last month, Turkey hosted leading Greek businessmen hoping to attract foreign investment for privatisation plans. I’ve been talking to people in Istanbul to find out about the rise in bilateral trade between the two countries, and one bakery’s attempt to help with a bailout.

Production at the Gullouglu bakery begins every day at 3am. Near one of Istanbul’s busy ports, the original Gullouglu cafe is busy with workers climbing three flights up to the factory,  to make baklava for a monthly shipment to Greece. The bakery has been in Tuba Gullu’s family for 200 years.  

They’ve been supplying the Greek market for 10 years, but with their dwindling pensions, Greeks have had to cut out life’s little luxuries – like baklava.  

Baklava bailout ... the Gallus' bakery, which has extended credit to its Greek customers

Their biggest customer, Athens pastry shop Baklava Epes had to shut three of its five stores. Despite a long history of political rivalry and disputes over the Aegean Sea, among other things, the Turks and Greeks are coming together, forming a mutually beneficial relationship. 

Gullu says baklava is a hard sell in Athens these days. One kilo of the sweet stuff costs the same as three kilos of beef.

But in a sign of the recent trend towards better, more neighbourly relations between Turkey and Greece, the Gullus didn’t give up. Instead, they extended the bakery’s credit and even went into business with them, opening a cafe in Athens.

“We have extended them three years credit to help them. We also opened a cafe with them hoping people can afford one piece of baklava as a treat with coffee.”

The Gullouglu bakery is just part of the soft diplomacy taking hold between Turkey and Greece. 

Ionnis Karkannis is the counsellor for economic and commercial affairs at the Greek consulate in Istanbul.  Despite the EU crisis, he’s optimistic the shared culture encourages trade. As proof, Karkannis says Turkish imports at their highest levels ever.    

“We had a total of $4.2bn trade volume between the two countries last year and if you compare this to just $200m 12 years ago, it shows that we have gone really a long way. In 2011, Turkey imported more than $2.5bn worth of goods from Greece, more than double the level in 2009.”

That change has grown out of mutually beneficial needs. Turkey needs to show the EU it can get along with its neighbours, and Greece needs the foreign investment. Selim Egeli recently headed a Turkish government forum inviting leading Greek businessmen who came to Istanbul to attract investment in the country’s 50bn euro privatisation plan for the transport, energy, and tourism sectors.

 “There is a new era in our economic relations starting now because of the economic reforms Greece is making. As long as the political situation was not sufficient to support it, trade could go only up to a certain point and from there it always stopped. Greece gets a huge market of 70 million people here in Turkey who are dying to go shopping. I strongly believe that Greece is one of the very few countries as an EU member, who supports Turkey to be a member of the EU.”

Ionnis Karkannis believes both sides will benefit from further trade.

“I really think this is a win-win situation because right now, let’s be honest, Turkey has the cash and this cash can be used in investments and among other countries, Greece can be one of them so they can make the money and we can achieve the economy and job creation we want. I think Turkey has a role to play for two very simple reasons. First of all, it’s a neighbour, and most important, Turkey is already a member of G20, developing at a pace of 8% annually. 

"These two parameters indicate the importance of Turkey. The mentality between the two is very similar, so doing business is very easy. Turks will participate in Greek business activities provided there are opportunities and profits to make. There is a profit to make, particularly in the tourism, energy and maritime sectors.  It is good for everyone.”

Back at the bakery, the Gullus continue to fill trays of sticky, sweet pastry.  It’s too soon to say whether Turkey can provide a big enough boost to Greece’s economy, but many hope the combination of soft diplomacy and a baklava bailout, works. 

When it comes to Turkish food, it’s generally doner kebab, coffee, and Turkish delight that spring to mind. 

Who needs a tour to taste all three in Istanbul? The streets are lined with sweet shops, all fronted with glass cases stacked high with piles of colourful, sugary lokum (Turkish delight).  

Some even come kebab-style, tall towers of Turkish delight, individual portions freshly sliced. Coffee shops are sprinkled through the Grand Bazaar, and kebabs are simply everywhere. 

So why would I need a tour to indulge in these other Turkish delights? Plus, I’m not a tour person. At all. Actually, I’m the anti-tour person. On a recent press trip to Perpignan, with just one hour to explore the city, I broke off from the guided tour to wander on my own, hoping to get a feel for the city. I would be a nightmare on any adult field trip.

But, when a fellow food writer, also averse to tours, suggests Istanbul Eats, and points me to their website, my usual cynicism disappears.  In fact, Istanbul Eats has just been awarded best food blog of the year.  Expats, Ansel Mullins and Yigal Schleifer are behind the site, a small book, and a team of local guides, offering three different tours: one in the Old City, one in Beyogulu, the cosmopolitan European quarter, and a kebab krawl. I decide to take the Old City tour for a look at the traditional foods filling the backstreets of Istanbul. 

That's a knife ... Nothing trifling about this bazaar Picture: Istanbul Eats

We head straight into the narrow alleyways of the Old City where our first stop is a late morning snack of sweetbreads.  Gorkem was given two choices when he turned 18: he could go to University, or his father would pay a master craftsman to teach Gorkem a trade, as an apprentice.  Gorkem, now 26, chose the fine art of slowly turning three different kinds of sweetbreads over hot coals.  It may sound like a simple job, but Gorkem is so popular, he’s put all the other vendors out of business.  

And, when he had to take a day off, customers noticed his stand-in just didn’t produce the same sandwiches.  Gorkem does well enough, that when his three skewers of meat are gone, so is he. Megan tells me the trick is in the timing.  Go too early, it won’t be ready, too late, and he’ll be gone. Midday feels about right.

I skip the sweetbreads, savouring the story instead.  We turn the corner to find a tiny hole in the wall where it’s too early for the standing-room only lunchtime crowd who flock here for the home-made tomato and lentil soup. 

I’m not a big soup person, but this is delicious, especially on a rainy day.  Next is an authentic, wood-fired pide stand. 

Pide is like a Turkish pizza, though Megan tells me because the dough is supposed to be made without preservatives, it doesn’t make for good delivered food. 

The dough gets tough and chewy.  The canoe-shaped pizza is filled with cheese, tomatoes, parsley and a number of other toppings. 

We pass by local market stalls selling all sorts of goods, from brightly coloured nautical bags in blue, green and orange, to gardening gear, and kitchenware, on our way to a 147-year old sweet shop. 

Think of a penny candy shop and you’re here.  Wooden cabinets stock none of the exotic, unauthentic Turkish delight flavours one finds on the tourist route.  They stick to the best basic gummy flavours, dusted in sugar – the original rosewater, lemon, pistachio, each bite melts in my mouth.

And the shop front is filled with halvah, but not just the sesame one. There’s almond, and hazelnut, too (they’re indigenous to Turkey).  We buy a slice of almond for the road, Megan intent on showing me the best place to enjoy it.

A few more corners turned, and we’re in a courtyard dating back to the Ottoman Empire.  Just a few old man sit around small, plastic white tables under umbrellas as the raindrops fall away, and the sun emerges. 

This is a place no tourist will ever find without Istanbul Eats.  Megan orders tea in perfect Turkish and we sit down on stools where I learn that Turkish tea is the perfect thing to wash down halvah.  I forget about everything else I’ve tasted, and relish the moment. 

After some quiet time absorbing the history of the courtyard, and licking my lips of the halvah, we head up to the residential Fatih neighbourhood to try Boza, a fermented millet drink at a cafe with original tile floors dating back to 1876, and art deco mirrors.   The place has been kept intact.  

Hooks for the old gas lamps remain on the ceiling. The drink itself is thick and milky, topped with cinnamon and roasted chick peas.  It’s said to be rich in nutrients, and a popular winter drink, especially for those who toil away with their hands for a living (no, I’m not talking about writers). 

I take a sip, but save room for lunch.  It’s early afternoon, and after several “starters” we’re in the Kurdish neighbourhood to dine at Seref Buryan, a restaurant that’s been in an Arab noble family since the late 19^th century. 

It’s also Prime Minister Erdogan’s favourite restaurant. Megan tells me it’s not unusual to find the place surrounded by men in black, and dark cars with tinted windows.

On the way, we indulge in wonderful balls made of red pepper paste and walnuts. The best part about the tour is that Megan has gone through the foods I like and don’t, to tailor it to my tastebuds. 

I haven’t said much about the kebab shop where we met two of Megan’s previous customers, so good was it they found their way back. And it did look good, with unusual layers of peppers, onions and aubergines. 

But back to the Kurdish restaurant.  We order traditional pilaf, or pilaf, as we know it.  What arrives, is a rounded dome of pastry which we slice open to reveal a mound of rice mixed with chicken and raisins.  It’s tasty, and I love watching what the locals eat (there are no tourists here). But the best part is the baklava that arrives for dessert, made by a neighbourhood woman who I’m told never leaves her home. Megan and I debate whether we prefer the traditional triangular pastry, or the small, squatty cigar-shaped ones done in reverse, with mostly walnuts and a bit of pastry.  “I go back and forth,” Megan says. 

Over lunch we discuss everything from local food, to the latest wine boom, and what it’s been like living in a place that used to only conjure up images of rat-infested prisons a la Midnight Express, but has now become an exotic symbol of East meets West with an enviable economy.

Istanbul Eats is a great way to absorb the city. Beyond being a source of great, insider food knowledge, it’s also a source of great local stories, and a chance to get under the skin of Istanbul.  I’m only glad Ansel and Yigal haven’t expanded beyond Istanbul. I’m sure my waistline would expand along with them.

Tours can be booked through the website.

istanbuleats.com

At the edge of the Bosphorus, on the Asian side of Istanbul sits the Sumahan on the Water Hotel.

Take a walk on the Asian side ... the Sumahan, which looks at the European side of the Bosphorus

This is a place for those in the know, literally. It’s bad enough most Istanbul cab drivers make fake promises of knowing their way around, but read out the Sumahan’s address, just outside the Cengelkoy neighbourhood and you’ll be surprised just how many times they stop to ask directions.

Luckily the guys at the nearby petrol station haven’t grown weary of pointing in the right direction. The low lighting and tiny un-lit sign all makes for a slightly frustrating, but ultimately exclusive arrival at the Sumahan.

Staff rush out to greet guests and usher them inside to the warmth of an intimate reception space and library. 

It’s late at night and I’m shown to my room swiftly where I take refuge and am relieved that despite this being a “designer” hotel, it takes no more than a few seconds to figure out how the light switches work. 

And that seems to be the theme at Sumahan. Everything is immediately accessible. There are luscious Turkish towels (what else?) and robes, a small gym, and even a hammam. Every room has a view and windows that open up to stare out at the Bosphorus to the European side. 

This is a hotel with history.

It has remained in the hands of the same family since the mid-nineteenth century, when it was built to produce “suma,” the spirit used to make raki, the wonderful anise-flavoured Turkish tipple. The dock was a convenient spot to unload figs brought on barges to feed the stills. Turkish-American architects Nedret and Mark Butler inherited the place and transformed the derelict, Ottoman alcohol factory into an elegant hotel hosting Turks and foreigners. 

I’ve never stayed in a hotel with so much truly helpful tourist information. We’ve all seen the stacks of luxury shopping guides, which I often wonder who uses.

I mean, do we really need guides for the experience? Isn’t it sort of an obvious one? Never mind. The Sumahan provides a copy of  the excellent, locally produced “The Guide” to Istanbul, which is great for getting off the tourist track. 

Even better, for people like me, who are normally highly organised, but a bit of a time crunch prevented me from flipping through any kind of guide, there are laminated cards for a handful of popular sites.

I’ll admit to feeling a bit smug with my day bag now that much lighter. And there’s even an option for those too cool to carry any bag. About a dozen different wallet-sized cards offer handy information about sites, from opening hours to taxi fares, and directions from the hotel. Someone has clearly given this a lot of thought.

Istanbul is a much more divided city than any I’ve ever visited. Water taxis traverse the Golden Horn, an inlet chopping up east and west.

The Sumahan is most definitely NOT in the thick of things. It’s in a village which beckons to be explored. The streets are lined with fruit sellers, fish restaurants, wooden houses and mansions.

It’s not necessarily quiet, thanks to a thumping restaurant and night club next door, but one call to reception after midnight snuffed out the noise. What it is, though, is a very chilled out place to stay. Staff are eager to help, and welcoming. The library is inviting and feels like an authentic nod to Turkey’s great literary legacy.

Breakfast is downstairs looking out at the river. Just outside the restaurant is a small dock with a complimentary water taxi to transport guests to Kabatas, the main harbour on the European side, where the tram system runs to all the major spots, and a funicular zooms up the hill to Taksim Square in a few minutes.

There is wi-fi throughout the hotel and a computer in the library. And wonderful, traditional Turkish breakfast is served with a plate of cheeses, meat, olives, cucumbers and tomatoes, along with breads and jams, followed by my personal favourite, Menemen. Think gently scrambled eggs with chilli peppers (but not too hot), and chopped tomatoes. It’s a great way to start the day before indulging in all that sweet, gelatinous, other Turkish delight.

Sumahan is the perfect hotel for either a second visit to Istanbul, or an alternative experience. I’m told water taxis are on par with those in Venice. Thankfully, I haven’t found out. It’s a lovely way to get across the city and, presuming the city’s three bridges are open,  the taxis coming back make the ride no more than a tenner.     

I hit 360 during my stay. It’s a top hotspot in Istanbul for both locals and tourists and I was lucky to meet the owner, a bit of a local celeb, who immediately exclaimed that he had spent his wedding night at the Sumahan. If this is where the guy running the hottest bar in town comes for nirvana, it’s definitely good enough for me.   

Sumahan on the Water
http://www.sumahan.com/
+90 216 422 8000
Kulelí Caddesi No 51, Çengelköy, Istanbul 

Turkey

360 Istanbul

360istanbul@360istanbul.com

Address: Istiklal Street, Mısır Apartment

8th Floor No: 163 Beyoglu – ISTANBUL