During our first Turkish breakfast, I surveyed the table with fear and doubt. Every conceivable inch was occupied by a plate, bowl or cup. It was a ridiculous amount of food! Had the waitress misheard our order? When I said "breakfast for two", had she understood "A merry feast for my hungry horde of Vikings"? Because this... this couldn't possibly be right.
Midway up the European side of the Bosphorus, Ortaköy literally translates into "Middle Village". Not the most enthralling of names, but this neighborhood does boast one of Istanbul's most eclectic populations. Turk, Greek, Jew... hipster, playboy, fisherman. Everybody has a place in Ortaköy.