Even though Athens is fairly close to the sea, there are times when we crave a quick island getaway – to taste the best tomato salads of the Cyclades, or one of the many pungent cheeses of Naxos, or real smoked apaki from Crete, but we don’t have the time (or resources) to venture out of the city limits. That’s when we head to To Hohlidaki, an ouzeri experience that feels like a tour of Greece from the comfort of a quaint Athenian neighborhood. We’ve been several times, and each visit gives a new picture of what the country has to offer. This ouzeri is steeped in history, and owner Alexandros Giolma takes every opportunity to mingle the past with the present.

Despite the bitter January cold, surging cases of Omicron and roaring inflation, Istanbul seemed its usual vibrant self on a recent Friday night: Our first choice restaurant was fully booked, even in its expanded space, and the new neighborhood ocakbaşı where we ended up bustled pleasantly, with every seat taken at the large counter encircling the grill. But appearances can be deceiving. “Meyhanes are still full, but people are eating less, drinking less; they can’t afford to consume like they did before,” says chef Aliye Gündüzalp, one of the owners of Müşterek meyhane in Beyoğlu.

It's nearing the end of 2021 and Turkey is bracing stormy weather. The economy is struggling, the Turkish lira has lost a quarter of its value this year, rental prices are soaring nationwide and purchasing power has been compromised. On top of it all, already sky-high taxes on alcohol were hiked again earlier this month, making it increasingly more difficult for people to drown their problems in a drink or four. The country's liquor sector has been hampered by a full-blown advertising ban since 2013 that even prevents companies from opening an Instagram account. All things considered, one might think it a bad time to produce what is essentially Turkey's first boutique rakı.

“A proper Rum house has to have everything,” a venerable chef once told me in Greek, the language that we have proudly spoken within our Istanbul community for more than 2,000 years. “Spoon sweets, lakerda, pickles, liqueurs…” He then puckered his grey mustache and switched into Turkish: “Olmazsa olmaz,” which is best translated by the Latin phrase sine qua non. Many of these essential culinary preparations appear in my novel, A Recipe for Daphne, which is both a love story and a meditation on the past and future of the community. But just who are the Istanbul Rums? The thoughts of my novel’s main character, Fanis, explain the term best.

I didn’t take the coronavirus seriously at first. In fact, its severity didn’t hit me until a few days ago. Earlier this month I was in Berlin, visiting my brother. The city’s tourism fair was abruptly canceled as a result of the virus, but we weren’t worried. We went out at night, eating and drinking and having a good time, as one does in this capital of debauchery. Upon return to Istanbul, I still wasn’t particularly concerned. There still had not been a case of the virus confirmed in Turkey at that point. I went on a gastronomic trip to Nevşehir and Kırşehir where I feasted on Central Anatolia’s delicious regional specialties and enjoyed numerous bottles of the Cappadocia region’s famous wine.

Athens, unofficially known as the Big Olive, has many delightful spots for a picnic in all seasons. Okay, in summer perhaps you’d rather be on the beach – and that can be arranged if you hop on a bus or tram for the southern coastal suburbs of Voula, Vouliagmeni and Varkiza – but in the city proper you can spread your meal on a hillside with a view of the Acropolis. With the weather often sunny and mild even in February, all you need is a little DIY initiative and the ability to resist the temptation of a snack at one of the many “fastfoodadika” or a sit-down meal in an air-conditioned taverna.

Down the street from Istanbul’s upmarket Etiler neighborhood and above the even-glitzier shoreside quarter of Bebek lies Hisarüstü, a ragtag maze of unplanned urban growth that happens to be adjacent to the newer campus of Bogaziçi University, Turkey’s most prestigious college. Once upon a time the area was home to a pig farm, but Hisarüstü became quickly built up as Anatolian migrants rapidly settled in Istanbul, not shying away from the area despite its location on an impossibly steep hill. Though Etiler and Bebek are among the city’s most prestigious areas, Hisarüstü doesn’t get much attention from outside visitors – if you don’t live in the neighborhood or attend Boğaziçi, you likely have no reason to go there.

The main street of Istanbul’s Yedikule neighborhood is steeped in history: it is dotted with exquisite buildings built a century ago and passes through a gate that is part of the 4th-century Theodosian walls, parallel to which are a series of historic urban gardens that have been farmed for hundreds of years. Once a well-to-do area with a large Greek population, Yedikule today is primarily working-class and home to migrants from Anatolia. Meaning “seven towers,” Yedikule is named for the fortress situated at the corner of the old walls, built by Mehmet the Conqueror just a few years after he stormed into Constantinople and seized it from the Byzantines. It was used as a dungeon for centuries, and concerts were held inside as late as the 1990s.

Editor’s note: It’s Beat the Heat Week at Culinary Backstreets, and in this week’s stories, we’re sharing some of our favorite spots to visit when the summer temperatures soar. One of the great joys of spring and summertime in Istanbul is the chance to get away for a day to one of the Princes’ Islands, the car-free and forested archipelago that is a short ferry ride away from the city. The only downside to an island hop is actually getting there: as soon as spring makes its first appearance in Istanbul, the hordes descend on the mainland’s ferry terminal, filling the boats to beyond capacity (at least on the weekends).

First-time visitors to Astek probably step in for the same reason most people convene at a reputable Istanbul meyhane: Good conversation in a cozy setting over a few cold glasses of rakı, together with fresh melon and white cheese, and perhaps a hot appetizer or two once the anise-based spirit has succeeded in seriously stimulating the appetite. And while one is unlikely to be displeased with any of Astek’s fine offerings, the head waiter and manager Mehmet Akkök is the reason why regulars return. Mehmet Bey brings to the table an exuberance and keen sense of professionalism that comes with years of service in the sector he loves.

Büyükada has long been a popular destination for İstanbullus seeking a break from harried metropolitan life. With its array of quaint köşkler (Ottoman-era wooden mansions), walkable woods and relative quiet (automobiles are prohibited, so there’s none of the modern world’s ubiquitous, underlying machine hum), this five-square-kilometer island, about an hour’s ferry ride southeast of the city center, serves as a welcome counterpoint to the bustle and bother of existence in an urban agglomeration of 14 million. There’s just one problem: The dining scene is insipid. There’s no shortage of fish restaurants along the esplanade, just east of the ferry terminal, but in our experience they’re undistinguished – indeed, indistinguishable – and maddeningly overpriced: in short, tourist traps. Some of the boutique hotels offer reasonable, if unexciting, fare on-site, but if you want to dine out, that row of uninspired seaside eateries is the only game in town.

With the banks closed for almost two weeks and Greece’s position in the eurozone the subject of heated debate and endless negotiations for the past several months, we wondered how some of our favorite restaurants were coping. Greeks had voted NO to austerity the previous Sunday (July 5), but did this mean they were spending their spare cash on staples for harder times and going out only to take part in demonstrations or stand in ATM queues?

Sooner or later almost everyone in Athens, tourist or local, heads for the flea market, the city’s oldest bazaar, below Monastiraki Square. Although it’s busiest on Sundays, all week long you can rummage through the antiques – furniture, bric-a-brac, mirrors, paintings, vintage toys, statuettes, vases, silverware – spread out in colorful disorder in front of the small shops that line all four sides of Avissinia Square.