Quick dinner with warm cabbage salad and homemade meatballs.

Grilled cheese sandwich with culatello - cured pork at its sexiest and I don’t call just anything that. I only had a piece about the size of my fist and those were some of the happiest days of my life. Remember that relative of yours visiting Italy soon? I suggest you pick up the phone now.

Spinach souffle for the masses!

Medium rare beef entrecote and green salad. Screw tenderloin, you’re better off with this cut.

Fırın sütlaç vs. regular sütlaç. We all know the winner here, but hey, I have to think of others too when I cook.

Olive bread I made for a mini beach sandwich picnic with the family.

Speaking of, frozen olive bread doesn’t thaw well when force-thawed (in a toaster, grill etc.), learnt that the hard way when I bit into semi-frozen olives in an otherwise warmed slice. It was an experience that almost ruined my relationship with black olives, but thankfully failed as I know how to wipe some memories clean. Yes I am that food ninja.

Karnıyarık on lavash. It’s usually served with Turkish rice (then again, what isn’t in Turkey?), but I think bread/pita or lavash really makes this dish justice.

I didn’t make the lavash.

Şevket-i bostan (blessed thistle) with lamb and Firik bulgur.

While this delicious plant may be just another weird-looking item sold at the herb shop for some of you, it’s a quite precious cooking ingredient in other parts of the world, like where I’m from.

What really shone for me on that plate is the Firik bulgur, though. I ordered this gem from a nice farm, so maybe that’s part of why it was so mindblowing for me but I had never tasted or smelled anything with such a strong woody aroma - and I don’t mean “smokey”, I mean woody. It also strongly reminded me of green tea (probably because green tea is a little woody itself).

So if you have access to this bulgur, I suggest you store for 10 winters. Now if you’ll excuse me I’ll stop my salivating and move on to whatever it is I’ll do next.

Sunday morning pancakes with buffalo butter and chestnut honey. The latter I would describe as “less pushy, more edgy” than your mother’s honey. No awful pun intended.

Osso buco right off the bone, with Turkish pilaf. Oh, bone marrow, how I adore thee.