For years, Syrian chef Syliman Al-Abiad didn’t dare to decorate the walls of his tiny Istanbul restaurant with the Syrian opposition flag that became a symbol of the protests against the regime in 2011. “My parents are still in Syria, and Assad was very cruel,” he explains, referring to the recently fallen Syrian dictator Bashar Al-Assad. Al-Abiad smiles when he points towards the two black-white-green flags with three red stars now hanging in the windows, the first thing that catches one’s eye in Abu Shamso, his basement restaurant.

Right in the heart of Istanbul's historic Sirkeci quarter are an equal number of tourist traps and gems. At the former, overly eager employees shove menus in your face and pressure you to sit down for an average, overpriced döner kebab on a crowded corner. The latter are the exact opposite; tucked away on ground floors in unlikely alleys, hidden in plain view. Just beneath the looming Deutsche Orientbank – a masterwork built over a century ago and crowned with a copper dome that long ago took on a turquoise hue – is Kavurmacı Goze, a small, elegantly designed restaurant with only one thing on the menu: kavurma (braised beef).

It's a grey early spring day in the bustling coastal district of Üsküdar on the Anatolian side of Istanbul. The holy month of Ramadan is in its last days, and many Istanbullites are fasting until the evening. Some of those who aren't are waiting in a long queue outside of the local kent lokantası (“city restaurant”) for a late lunch, and this is the best deal around. 40 TL (US $1.05) gets you a main course with meat, a side or two, and a bowl of soup. Today, the menu is döner, buttery rice pilaf, and lentil soup, and we've arrived with an empty stomach. This restaurant is among the more than 15 that have been opened and operated by the Istanbul Metropolitan Municipality (IMM) since 2022, and they have become increasingly popular and necessary as Turkey's rampant inflation and soaring food prices have hit the city's residents hard.

Perhaps the most glorious and satisfying aspect about calling Istanbul home is the infinite potential for discovery. Even on streets we've wandered down hundreds or thousands of times, we still find ourselves noticing small details, like a hand-painted apartment sign; a grand, winding staircase at the entrance of an old building; or the fading blue address numbers that were replaced years ago but can still be spotted here and there in Istanbul's older, central neighborhoods. What took us aback recently was the discovery of a restaurant on a main avenue that passes through the edges of Pangaltı, Kurtuluş, Bomonti and Feriköy – a small büfe hidden in plain sight, open for over 40 years but with no social media presence or even (until recently), a single Google review.

Nevizade Street is one of the most buzzing parts of the Beyoğlu district, the heart of nightlife and cultural activity in Istanbul, but it has weathered its fair share of ups and downs in recent years. For a variety of economic and political reasons, Nevizade's vitality has suffered, and we’ve had to witness the closure of some of the area’s most emblematic spots. But just last year, a fantastic new restaurant here brought together an unlikely pair who have quickly formed what is without a doubt the area's most dynamic duo: Ibrahim Usta and Mehmet Akkök. With his beaming smile, white hair, and bushy eyebrows, Ibrahim Usta (usta being “master,” as of a craft) became famous for the delicious hummus that he whipped up in Antakya for nearly four decades. When the February 6, 2023 earthquakes struck, his home was destroyed, leaving no choice but to pack up and move to Istanbul to live with his son.

Finding the best restaurants in Istanbul can be a daunting task – every block feels like it’s littered with kebab shops, bakeries, and diners with attractive steam table displays. But a fair warning to you, dear reader: The döner is most-often dry and poor quality, the baked goods are mass-produced and lackluster, and those steam tables are full of reworked leftovers hidden in bechamel or tomato sauce. The fact that these restaurants are more-often-than-not full might seem at odds with the Turkish standard for quality, which is extremely high. But, well, there’s a sucker born every minute, and those steam tables seem to have a particularly strong gravitational pull on the average Istanbul tourist. Like anywhere else in the world, locals have their go-to spots. But in Istanbul, these are more than neighborhood haunts with cheap drinks and friendly service.

2024 was another challenging year for Turkey and Istanbul, as the ongoing economic crisis and ensuing rampant inflation made it increasingly difficult for many locals to get by in the city and for foreigners to find bargains, even if they are arriving with dollars or euros. Nevertheless, Istanbul's dining scene remains as vibrant as ever, with exciting new spots opening in addition to the discovery of places that had been waiting for us for years. In an always-fascinating city with infinite possibilities, Istanbul proved once again why it is one of the world's premiere culinary destinations.

Jokes and laughter can be heard from among the olive trees in a field on the coast of Arsuz, a village in the southern Turkish province of Hatay. Here, two dozen women are hard at work on the hilly land, with a view of the Mediterranean Sea on one side and the Amanos Mountains on the other. Seven days a week, from early morning to midday, the workers comb through the trees one by one, gathering the olives and depositing them on plastic tarps spread on the ground.

In Sanayi Mahallesi – an Istanbul neighborhood where the streets are lined with hundreds of mechanic workshops and auto supply stores – most people are looking for spare car parts or a place to get their Fiat fixed. We, on the other hand, came here in search of döner. More specifically, we ventured to this area to eat at Ata Lokantası, a fantastic esnaf lokantası (tradesman's restaurant) that has been open since the late 1980s, and serves a rotating menu of comforting, homestyle dishes popular with workers in the area and white-collar office employees from the looming skyscrapers nearby. The menu features döner only on Fridays, and we heard it was excellent.

Özlem Warren is a native of Antakya, Türkiye and author of the award-winning cookbook, Özlem’s Turkish Table, Recipes from My Homeland. She is passionate about her homeland’s delicious and vibrant cuisine and has been teaching Turkish cookery at Milk Street, the Istanbul Culinary Institute and other institutions. She champions the cuisine of Türkiye in publishing and at food festivals worldwide, and you can find her recipes on her personal blog, Özlem’s Turkish Table.

Ali Kılıç works in a hypnotizing rhythm, mixing hummus or garnishing plates with pickles and olive oil to serve to customers. The phone rings occasionally, and Ali answers while working at the counter next to the window, looking at one of the semi-destroyed alleys of Antakya's Long Bazaar. “Alo, come again?” Ali answered one of the calls. “Two hummus. I'm sending it right away, brother,” he told the person on the other end.

In the heart of Istanbul's Fatih district, not far from the colossal mosque of the same name and the headquarters of the city municipality, there is no shortage of great places to eat. These range from the popular kebab joints of Kadınlar Pazarı to the Syrian restaurants, markets, dessert shops and coffee stands on Akşemsettin Avenue, which also boasts one of the city's best and oldest yogurt producers. On a side street right in the middle of all of this lies Bezirgan Çiğ Köfte, a small four-table spot elegantly decorated with relics of the past from Anatolia, including rugs, prayer beads, and ancient, sturdy brass coffee grinders. At the entrance stands the shimmering counter, which is loaded to the brim with heaps of arugula, lettuce, mint and parsley. Next to that lies a mound of çiğ köfte bigger than a bowling ball.

South Asian transplants say the best desi food is always served at home, not in restaurants. But Mohammad Yunus, the manager of Lahori Darbar in Istanbul’s Kumkapı neighborhood, thinks otherwise. “The taste here is better than what you get at home,” he said in front of his no-frills joint Lahori Darbar, located a stone’s throw from the grand Armenian Patriarchate, one of the area’s landmarks. On our visit, South Asian tourists and businessmen chatted, snacking on chana dal and chapati at the corner spot, amid a sea of blue-and-white meyhanes. Kumkapı– a stretch along the Marmara Sea – was once the center of Istanbul’s Armenian community, but a shifting kaleidoscope of immigrant groups have moved through the area, opening and closing shops and restaurants in a flash.

Kebapçı Osman Usta 1976 is located in the crowded neighborhood of Şirinevler, a corner of Istanbul that has fascinated us for years. Separated from the idyllic upper-middle class, tree-lined suburb of Ataköy by Istanbul's main highway but linked with a pedestrian footbridge built above it, Şirinevler is the polar opposite of its southern neighbor: dense, working class, chaotic, and lacking in green space. Nevertheless, it is a lively, bustling center of interactions and transactions, loaded with cheap fast food restaurants, bookstores, clothing shops and dodgy nightclubs. Şirinevler is also known for a cluster of grillhouses where the skewer slingers all hail from the district of Suruç in the province of Urfa, one of Turkey's kebab capitals.

In our beloved home base of Kurtuluş, the neighborhood's rich patisserie culture is often associated with its Greek and Armenian communities. Some of these shops churn out the best profiterole in the city, while numerous others bake sakızlı Paskalya çöreği, a subtly-sweet bun laced with mastic gum and topped with thinly-sliced almonds consumed on Easter. There are more of these excellent patisseries in Kurtuluş than we could count on both hands, but only one that features the traditional Sephardic specialty börekitas, a small, crescent-moon shaped empanada variation stuffed with either roasted eggplant or potato.