As I explore the passageways under the embellished arches of the 17th-century Egyptian — or Spice — Bazaar , and walk past stalls piled high with plump olives and pyramids of vibrant spices , I ’ m enveloped in the heady aroma of cumin , cardamom and cinnamon .
But it ’ s in the streets around the market where the best bargains are to be had , and that ’ s where I go in search of pomegranate syrup — perfect for adding a sweet-andsour tang to salad dressings — and Iranian saffron , the spice once worth more than gold .
I get my caffeine hit standing with the locals at Kurukahveci Mehmet Efendi , a purveyor of rich Turkish coffee since 1871 , finely ground and still brewed in copper pots . And I buy my breakfast from an elderly man weaving through the crowds with a tray laden with simit — a round , bagel-like bread — balanced precariously on his head . As I bite into its crunchy , toasted-sesame coated shell , I discover a soft , sweet-andsavory interior .
By turns the capital of the Roman Empire , the center of Byzantium and Ottoman Constantinople , and the only city to span two continents , Istanbul ’ s been attracting visitors for centuries . It ' s crowded , chaotic and creative , a sensory overload of sights , sounds and smells , and where Europe meets Asia , not only geographically but culturally . And it ’ s all reflected in its eclectic cuisine , from sleek restaurants to street food .
My journey begins in Sultanahmet , the city ’ s historical heart and the showcase of its Ottoman and Byzantine roots . Some of its most quintessential sights are here — the Blue Mosque , Hagia Sophia , Basilica Cistern and Topkapi Palace — displaying Turkey ’ s finest decorative arts in their dazzling tilework , carved cedar wood and vibrant stained glass .
The city ’ s also an age-old hub for trade . The Grand Bazaar , close to the Egyptian Bazaar , was built in 1461 , and is said to be the world ’ s oldest and largest covered market , a labyrinth of more than 4,000 shops selling everything from glittering gold to exotic ointments and richly embroidered kaftans .
There are sweet treats , too — jumbles of pastel-colored lokum , better known as Turkish delight . But I ’ m told to buy it from a city institution , Haci Bekir , a short walk away .
The wooden-front shop is emblazoned with the name of the founder , Ali Muhiddin Haci Bekir , who started the company in 1777 . It ’ s still run by the sixth generation of the same family , and inside it retains its old-world charm , with glass cabinets filled with decorative lokum boxes and a counter lined with brass-lidded jars brimming with tempting candies .
They produce around 30 types of lokum — there ’ s even a new sugar-free line . I sample sugar-dusted yet tangy orange , creamy vanilla , and a two-in-one mintand-lemon flavor , before finally settling
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