Judge all you'd like, but I'm in Turkey for ten weeks and sometimes local cuisine...I just miss some good old fashioned American junk food.
Ordering food at the small places is always a lottery for me. The larger restaurants usually have servers who speak some English and the menus are in English.We typically eat in lovely, fancy places as the team has a ridiculous daily food allowance. These are the type of places where a server wears a full suit, places your napkin in your lap for you, and heaven help you if you try to pour something into your own glass (the horror!) The wine and water (sparkling or still--never 'flat') I am getting used to, but occasionally I'll order a coke (glass bottle, a tiny cousin of the American or Mexican version) and even that I can't refill into my own glass. I was lucky enough to take years of etiquette classes and I consider myself versed in international manners, so I don't have too much trouble and can hold my own in the fanciest of places. I'm going to be so spoiled when I return to the states--I'll wait patiently in the cab for the valet to open my door, for a waiter to be assigned to our party only, and apparently, I will be the thirstiest at the table.
Sometimes, dinners with 'citrus foam' and 'saffron infused' and 'cheap' wine that's priced at $80 a bottle gets to be old. (I'm telling you, I feast like a queen here--thank you, Bank!) Maybe once per week, I'll sneak away and have a secret lunch that I eat in shame, hiding the take away bag inside a larger nylon one as I walk through the gilded hotel lobby. I rush up to my room and wonder what mystery the bag holds--as indeed, it's always a damn mystery. A couple of blocks away from the hotel, there's a complex with some American fast food. A Burger King, Pizza Hut, and the KFC from my dreams are nestled together, a Mecca for the obese and my secret lunches.
First, I'd like to point out that although the words are in English, no one speaks English here. Sure, it says Whopper on the board, but I cannot fathom why they don't understand when I say that! I've been reduced to holding up my fingers to correlate to the meal numbers and pointing out the door. They roll their eyes at me, walk back to the board and point to the picture. Yes, I'll vigorously nod, or we play the lean and point game. No, no, to the right! Over, over--wait, you passed it--go back! No, not back to the first one! Whopper! Whopper! Geeze, I'd settle for any of the cheeseburgers.
Second, it says Whopper, but it's all different. The patty looks irregular, hand shaped, perhaps? The ketchup tastes different, yellow mustard doesn't seem to exist here, it's all Dijon, even the bun is different. I've had some tasty fries abroad, but not the bastard children that you find at Burger King Turkey. Thin, pasty, and so pale. Did I mention they are served with mayonnaise? Bleh.
I was in for a shock last week, when I unwrapped my Whopper (it even said so on the wrapper-success!) and reached for my book. I took a bite without looking and spit it out so fast--the meat has gone bad! They tried to poison me! Upon further inspection, I realized they gave me chicken, because clearly 'take away' sounds like 'chicken' in Turkish. (It doesn't, I looked it up.)
Pizza Hut wasn't any better. I pointed at the picture on the menu and out the door, when three different waiters were frustrated because none spoke English. Finally, to my mortification, one started shouting in Turkish at the families eating! A young girl shyly spoke in halting English to me, and translated my request. Do you know how she translated? She pointed at the picture and out the door.
KFC...I had such high hopes. This one had all of the items listed in Turkish, so that was fun for me. I saved my potatoes and gravy last, wanting to savor the instant, gritty flavor that reminded me of so many dinners at the Lodge... Imagine my sadness when I discovered it was a cup of gravy, and not even the gravy from American KFCs. The biscuits were not their signature flaky biscuits, but a hard roll. If you've ever seen the South Park episode where KFC was banned in Colorado and Eric has to go to a Methadone clinic to break his addiction...well, that episode is starting to make more sense to me.
Ah, it's lunch time for me now, so I'm off to have some lentil soup and a panini. Oh the injustice of it all ;-)
No comments:
Post a Comment