Ergenekon Avenue, the busy, one-way street that separates the Istanbul quarters of Kurtuluş and Pangaltı, is particularly bustling at the Osmanbey metro exit. For years now, the heavy foot traffic has outgrown its narrow sidewalks, peaking into an insurmountable throng at evening rush hour. On one side is an expansive walled Levantine Catholic cemetery, while the other side of the avenue marks the beginning of Kurtuluş, with its dead-straight residential backstreets running in parallels. These have quickly become home to an array of bars, cafes, restaurants and meyhanes that have popped up within the past several years and seem to keep multiplying. But nestled into a small storefront on the crowded Ergenekon is Pangaltı Sandviç, a tiny delicatessen that has been selling sandwiches made with top-notch ingredients since 1996, long before any of these newcomers.

In the Yayladere district of Bingöl, one of Turkey's eastern provinces, nestled in a valley in the foothills of the mountains known by the local Kurdish population as Silbûs û Tarî, lies the village of Conag. Come summer, the women of the village carry out a tradition that has been upheld in the region for some three centuries: rolling out and then drying a type of noodle known as êrişte. They come together every year in September to roll out the dough made with flour, salt and water, to be sun-dried and finally cut into square-shaped pieces to be used as the main ingredient of the traditional noodle, yogurt and wild thyme soup gêrmiya êrişte. The softer sunlight at this time of year is perfect for drying êrişte (pronounced eh-rish-te) without it cracking.

On a busy street in Beşkitaş, nestled between a camera shop and a turşu stand, sits an unassuming storefront offering çiğ köfte. Open only after 3 p.m., it’s easy to walk by and not take notice of what seems like an average fast-food joint. But this is Çiğköfte Yiyelim (which translates to “Let’s eat çiğ köfte!”), and is one of our favorite spots for this dish from southeastern Turkey because of the unique variations offered. Çiğ köfte is a mixture of fine bulgur wheat (sometimes along with raw minced meat), onions, olive oil, tomato and pepper paste, herbs and spices including parsley and cumin, lemon and water that is kneaded together by hand and formed into oblong pieces with characteristic finger-sized indentations in the surface.

The upper-middle class residential neighborhood of Dikilitaş in Istanbul's Beşiktas district is certainly pleasant enough, but is not a place we pass through very often and has few culinary attractions that we know of. So when we encountered Bay Köfte, a food truck churning out sandwiches one cannot find elsewhere in the city (or the country for that matter) we were intrigued instantly, and have since been back to Dikilitaş twice – this new street food favorite is sure to take us to the neighborhood much more often.

Tarlabaşı, right in the heart of Istanbul’s European side, has the reputation of being among the worst areas in the city. While it is certainly run down, we have spent considerable time in the quarter over the years and have had no problems. Its reputation is exaggerated, and if you aren't looking for trouble, you aren't likely to find it. Amid the once-elegant and now dilapidated century-old apartments built by the Greeks and Armenians that originally lived in the area, there are other buildings from a variety of eras on the verge of collapse, while a massive “urban renewal” project that has been ongoing for over a decade amid legal and financial issues has stuck out like a sore thumb as the rest of the rugged quarter retains its character.

In the bustling, dense, cosmopolitan neighborhood of Kurtuluş, the potential for discovery seems endless, as compelling stories and flavors lie behind unsuspecting doors. One of CB's tour guides and fellow urban explorer Benoit Hanquet recently tipped us off to a hidden gem, a place that, from the outside, is a totally nondescript, signless café that we have passed by hundreds of times over the years without ever noticing. Located next to a popular pizza place on the corner of Baruthane Avenue and Eşref Efendi Street, a buzzing area where a handful of bars, meyhanes, restaurants and cafés have popped up over the past few years, Özlem Cafe represents a nod to the neighborhood's past while offering an atmosphere and menu that distinguishes it from similar establishments.

With a main terminal of 1.44 million square meters, the new Istanbul Airport (IST) takes a lesson from its home city, paying homage to the gods of unnecessary sprawl and shopping malls. Rather than waste away under the fluorescent lights paying triple the price on duty free and forcing down disappointingly dry pide, store your bags for a few bucks and head out into the city for some unforgettable meals and sights. When circling into IST or the Asian side of the city’s Sabiha Gökçen Airport (SAW), the unending view of building upon building will tell you immediately: Istanbul is not the city to hop on a bus and see what happens.

On a mid-June night, one Istanbul kitchen buzzed with Turkish, Arabic and English spoken simultaneously. All women in the kitchen were from Hatay, a province which they – like many other locals – prefer to call Antakya, and which was heavily affected by the earthquakes earlier this year. Delicacies of their hometown filled the pots and pans on the stove, and the fires burning under them increased the already high temperature in the room. Ayda Suadioğlu, a chef from Antakya, was sweating in the hot kitchen, yet she was determined to get everything ready for the night ahead. If anyone doubted whether they needed more butter or olive oil, how fine they should cut the za’atar, or whether the köfte in the oven was ready, Ayda knew the answer.

Alican Akdemir holds a glass up the light to confirm it is spotless before decanting half of a 200-milliliter green bottle of mineral water. Holding the glass against a napkin, he examines the color and notes the rate and amount of the carbonation, which he describes as “aggressive.” Having noted the visual appearance, he brings the glass to his nose, checking for any odors. “It shouldn’t smell of anything, just like it should be clear,” he says. Akdemir takes a sip, gently aspirating. “It’s slightly sour, salty, and high in carbonation,” he says.

In every corner of Istanbul, enticing traces of Turkish cuisine from throughout the country, as well as the cooking of other neighboring regions, can be tucked away in the city's backstreets. These range from a Bulgarian kebab joint in Bağcılar on the western European side to a Bosnian meyhane in Pendik on the eastern stretches of the Anatolian side and a Georgian restaurant in the heart of Beyoğlu. We can add the suburban Marmara Seaside district of Maltepe to this formidable list, as it is home to Sılaşara, which is perhaps the only Abkhaz restaurant in the world outside of Abkhazia or Georgia. Officially considered a part of Georgia, the region of Abkhazia straddles Georgia's northwest Black Sea coast, and its small population is dwarfed by the number of people with Abkhaz roots who have called Turkey home for well over a century.

Editor’s Note: Pizzeria Babylon is moving to a new location, but will be open again soon for business! Check out their Instagram and Facebook for updates from Ishok. Nestled in Turkey's southeastern province of Mardin is the historic region of Tur Abdin, meaning “The Mountain of God's Servants” in the language of the Syriac people (also known as Assyrians). These Orthodox Christians have called the area home for millennia and still speak a Semitic mother tongue that is the most similar living language to the Aramaic spoken by Jesus Christ.

Istanbul's western suburb of Küçükçekmece is flanked by a small lake of the same name, the water of which flows from a river in the north and out into the Marmara Sea in the opposite direction. The coastline of the lake is just steps away from a train that stops at the foot of the Cennet neighborhood, where a hillside of ramshackle, single-story houses with gardens look out over the water. At the top of the hill, the neighborhood takes on a more modern character with six-story apartments and a bustling pedestrian avenue packed with cafes and restaurants.

In the main hall of Antakya’s bus station terminal, there are deep cracks in the walls, rubble litters the floor and dozens of ceiling panels seem to hang on by a thread, the entire thing threatening to collapse at any moment. Bus companies have set up mobile desks outside of the station, and it is from one of these where I buy my evening ticket back to the city of Adana, about four hours to the west by bus. Even though I've just arrived, I already have to plan my exit because there isn't really anywhere left in Antakya to stay the night. Like most structures in the city, the terminal was damaged in February's massive earthquake, the worst of its kind in modern Turkish history.

Editor’s note: In the latest installment of our recurring First Stop feature, we asked travel writer Caroline Eden about some of her go-to spots in Istanbul. Eden has written for the Guardian, the Telegraph and the Financial Times, among other publications, and has filed stories from Uzbekistan, Ukraine, Russia, Kyrgyzstan, Kazakhstan and Azerbaijan for BBC Radio 4’s From Our Own Correspondent. Eden is also the author of the culinary travelogue Black Sea: Dispatches and Recipes, Through Darkness and Light (Hardie Grant; May 2019) and co-author of Samarkand: Recipes & Stories from Central Asia & the Caucasus (Kyle Books; July 2016), a Guardian book of the year in 2016 and winner of the Guild of Food Writers Award for best food and travel book in 2017. You can follow Caroline on Instagram and Twitter @edentravels.

Chefs Kaan Sakarya and Derin Arıbaş usually spend their days preparing elegantly plated dishes like lamb tenderloin with warm cherry freekeh and purslane at Basta! Neo Bistro, the duo’s second joint venue in Istanbul’s Kadıköy neighborhood after their popular gourmet-wraps spot Basta! Street Food Bar. Both trained at French culinary institutes, they still refer to mise en place when talking about their prep cooking – even when that means setting things up inside a tent to make vats of soup to serve 700 people. Since a pair of massive earthquakes struck a broad swath of southeastern Turkey on February 6, more than 200 chefs from across the country have headed to the disaster area as part of an ad hoc response called the Acil Gıda Kolektifi (Emergency Food Collective).