Uncovering 1000’s of years of Turkish tea tradition.
BY JESSICA GOLDMAN
BARISTA MAGAZINE ONLINE
Featured photograph by Anna Berdnik
I’m doing my greatest to not spill any of the steaming amber brew from the fragile, tulip-shaped glass I’m holding because the ferry pitches forwards and backwards within the uneven waters of the Bosporus. Though it’s lower than a 30-minute crossing to Kadikoy on Istanbul’s Asian aspect, the tea server has made no less than three rounds; his tray is cluttered with conventional cups. I look round at my fellow passengers and admire how everybody sips their tea with out incident. In the meantime, I cringe every time the boat heaves, fearful of scalding myself or, worse, humiliation.
I’ve come to Istanbul in quest of the proper cup of Turkish tea and to higher perceive the tradition surrounding the nation’s beverage of alternative. On a cobblestone avenue exterior my lodge, I meet my information Benoit, a Belgian transplant who shares my love of tea. He has promised me an genuine tea-drinking expertise. So, we’re skipping the fashionable cafés and touristy tea gardens and going on to town’s hans.
These Ottoman-era buildings, discovered all through town, as soon as served as inns for vacationers alongside the Silk Street. Immediately they home quite a lot of wholesalers, tradespeople, and artisans. Though most hans focus on a single commerce comparable to steel works or textiles, all of them have one factor in frequent: a tea home.
Our first cease takes us to Istanbul’s business Karaköy district. As we enter the slim arcade that serves as Ada Han’s tea home, the mismatched tables are almost full. Omer, the supervisor, explains that his specific mix has been perfected over 20 years, and solely a choose few know the precise recipe. I squeeze into his tiny steam-filled kitchen, the place he demonstrates the standard tea-making course of.
He spoons the loose-leaf black tea into the highest half of a well-used metal çaydanlik, or conventional stacked teapot, the place it steeps to create a powerful, darkish brew. Then he makes use of the boiling water that fills the underside half to dilute every cup, guaranteeing the proper power based mostly on desire. We sit for a glass at one of many low tables.
Following Benoit’s lead, I add a lump of sugar and watch it shortly dissolve into the recent liquid. I sip it as if I’m tasting wine, letting the bitter but semi-sweet drink roll underneath my tongue. Trying round, I’m struck by how this one unassuming tea room hosts such a definite cross-section of the inhabitants. I see college students with stacks of books, tradespeople in stained coveralls, and even a distinguished politician. Turkey’s nationwide pastime is so robust that it unifies a extremely numerous inhabitants.
Benoit tells me that though tea has been part of Turkish tradition for 1000’s of years, its reputation grew out of necessity within the early 20th century. The excessive value and restricted availability of espresso following World Battle I prompted the federal government to encourage tea consumption. He explains that by the mid-1900s, Turkey had established and controlled a tea-growing area alongside the Black Coastline. Its verdant soil offered the proper situations for high-quality tea cultivation.
Later that afternoon, Benoit takes me to Fatih, one among Istanbul’s oldest neighborhoods and residential to the famed Grand Bazaar, a lined market that spans over 300,000 sq. ft. As we wander the slim passageways, tea servers seem out of skinny air. They whisk conventional copper trays by the crowds to ship glasses to the market’s roughly 20,000 staff. The precariously balanced cups slide forwards and backwards towards both finish of the ornate platters, and although I witness just a few close to misses, not one drop of tea is misplaced.
Since days revolve round Turkey’s subsequent cup of tea, we cease at close by S?ra Odalar Han for one more glass. This time I observe the cue of the group at a neighboring desk and forgo the sugar. Its bitterness coats my tongue and makes my cheeks pucker; it is a new sensory expertise in comparison with the mildly candy cup I had earlier. And I prefer it. Behind me, no less than 16 landline telephones dangle on a wall within the kitchen, every a direct line to one of many upstairs workshops. They resemble the command submit of a navy operation.
Lastly, we transfer on to the Kahveci Han, the place I spot a sq. wood tray on a pulley system that hoists tea between flooring. The makeshift dumbwaiter looks like a literal lifeline to that subsequent cup.When nightfall lastly units in, Benoit and I half methods. Though I’ve already had no less than 5 cups, I resolve to sit down for one more at a bakery close to the Galata Tower.
On my journey to find the proper cup of tea in Istanbul, I’ve realized that, on common, Turks devour over 1,000 glasses of tea per individual yearly. So, I’ve a little bit of catching as much as do if I’m seeking to establish perfection. I’ve additionally realized that the centuries-old custom of simply sitting to get pleasure from a cup of tea and savoring the second is a part of the pursuit. Whether or not it’s within the tea room of an Ottoman-era han, the patio of a nook bakery, or on the deck of a crowded ferry, my good cup will at all times be inside attain.
Jessica Goldman began her journalism profession at CBS Information, however wanderlust led her to journey writing. Her adventures are primarily solo, and she or he loves reporting on under-the-radar locations. Her work has appeared in Journey + Leisure, Alula Journal, Matador Community, and extra.
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