Every time I pass by an artichoke seller, I cannot help but get hypnotized by the way they peel the artichokes. I have seen it a million times, yet it never loses its magic. Some love candy, I love my artichokes!
Istanbul’s neighborhoods all have their share of artichoke sellers. They keep to the same street, the same corner, the same spot in front of an apartment building, perched on the same tabure -stool, next to the same kova -a big bucket, with the same usta– master at work. The artichokes change with the season, but everything else stays exactly the same. Sakız, Bayrampaşa, Kıbrıs, Mor (Hybrid)… The best for me is sakız enginarı, it starts around February, March depending on the weather, are grown in Izmir. Urla sakız enginarı, in fact, is a product with a registered Geographical Indication—the undisputed king and queen of the artichoke world. Sakız is also the only variety I refuse to let anyone peel but myself.
Don’t get me wrong—I can peel any artichoke perfectly. But if I did, I’d miss out on the chance to gossip and chat. Besides, if there is an usta—someone who has truly mastered the craft and does the job brilliantly—why on earth should I do everything myself?
Everyone has their preferred artichoke seller, mine is for the last 10 years is Erol Usta. Before it was Şevket Usta, before Recai Usta. You never forget the name of your artichoke seller, well I don’t, they are the link to my food. The people behind the food, that makes it worthy, you simply do not forget that.
I missed the window to make artichoke confit from sakız enginarı this year, but I’m still cooking my fair share of them at home—with lots of olive oil, lemon, fresh garlic, herbs, and spring onions. But please, never with that boring garnish of potatoes, carrots, and dill!
Claimer: Food is personal, so no raising voices to my preferences for dill-free artichokes.
With flavor, Tuba x
published at my substack page: https://substack.com/@tubasatana