Cooking School, Goreme, Turkey

Today Coco and I had cooking classes, but first, we had breakfast at the hotel’s farm.  This is a complimentary meal offered to all their guests.   They loaded ten of us in a hay wagon hooked up to a tractor and hauled us out of town.  It sounds gimmicky but we got to see the valley up close and personal.  Wow.  After descending a long flight of stairs cut into the hillside we were met by four native “country women” who made us a spectacular breakfast.  The egg and vegetable dish was the out of this world.  We were treated to all kinds of preserves ranging from apple with almond to mulberry and eggplant.  They had fresh walnuts picked from trees on the farm beside cheese and olives of all kinds… and, and… well you get the picture.  Our fellow guests were very interesting.  We had two english speaking expats who had been living in Turkey for years.  One from the USA now living in Istanbul, the other from  Switzerland now in Capadoccia and these two were eager to share tips with the rest of us.  We had a cute young couple from Paris, another from New York, and finally two from Singapore.  All super fascinating, all super nice.  After breakfast we got a tour of the small valley which included seeing the interior of cave high in the cliff used as a pigeon house,  A collapse of the facade left the cave’s interior visible.  It was great because we had seen these pigeon holes by the tens of thousands all over the hills of Capadoccia.  We were astonished to see the size of the “cubbies” the pigeons lived in.  Huge!  Each  pigeon house must have room for hundreds of birds.  Following the tour the other guests returned to the hotel, while we stayed behind for a cooking class with the four hosts.  What fun!  It all started with introductions through our interpreter.  Coco then asked about the head scarves they were wearing … I don’t know if they misunderstood her, or just wanted to cover her in traditional clothes, but the one introduced as Turcan quickly produced a scarf and showed her a variety of ways to wrap it,  finally tying it around Coco’s head in the “I’m working in the kitchen” configuration.  The ladies cooed, giggled and said she looked like a relative.  They gave us Muslim names ( Coco told them she already has one )… so we became Nigaar and Aly.  Next came the “hammer pants”… all around Turkey the older women wore these pants- not to be ironic but to be able to work quickly and modestly.

Coco asked Turcan,  the biggest of the ladies,  about her pants.  Boom- she was gone and presto she returned with her own pants for Coco to wear.  She giggled while dragging Coco into the cave emerging to squeals of delight from the other three.  My tiny wife was swimming in these pants.  When she asked where the pockets were they gestured into their own pockets to show her.  She tried to find them herself only to realize they were hidden within the many folds pinned behind her. Again they started laughing from the core while Turcan smiled and gave a modest shrug indicating she was aware of the size difference.  These four women loved Coco , or should I say, Nigaar.  They pushed and pulled at her calling her name over and over.  They would yell at the top of their lungs “Nigaar! Nigaar!”  all vying for her attention, all wanting her next to them as we started preparing for the many recipes planned.  They had me cutting and chopping while Nigaar was mixing and chatting learning words like salt, parsley, pepper, and so on.  I lit a fairly substantial fire which was to power the outdoor stove.  As I was on my way to the woodpile (as directed) I heard some shouts which I interpreted as “Aly..hurry up”.  When I continued to walk I heard a commotion, as I turned around I saw one of our hosts running like mad.  She passed me like I was standing still hooting the whole way.  At the wood pile I tried to save face ( having just lost he race ) by carrying an enormous load, fortunately I managed to make the 50 metres back to the stove without dropping a twig.  I knew there would be another “Mark (aka Aly) roast” if I failed.  They then had me carrying clay pots filled with the peppers, zucchini, and dried pepper we had stuffed moments before in the cave.  After the pots were all situated on this roaring fire we went out to the vineyard and started picking grape leaves.  Sounds simple doesn’t it?  Well it’s not.  When I strayed away from my escort, Turcan herself, I would hear “Aly! Aly! followed by some Turkish commands I didn’t completely understand…. I knew enough to know she wanted me next to her.  I think she was aware of the rotten job I was doing and wanted a private chuckle for how absurdly inept I was.  Finally I turned in my leaves… she looked through them and shrugged “tamam tamam” (Turkish for okay).  I gestured at the stack of leaves in her hand wanting the truth.  She laughed picked the only good one and threw the rest to the ground.  We both smiled as we presented our stacks to the others in the kitchen.  Hers- hmm I don’t know, maybe 200, mine…  the one leaf which passed muster.  Carefully t
hey took my one special leaf and added it to the pile.

We made lentil soup ( in a pressure cooker); stuffed green peppers and zuchhini; lavash or flat bread and finally dol
mades- these are deceptively difficult to roll.  Coco picked  up bread making pretty quickly and was a rock star when it came to trying to make  the dolmades.  Finally the lady in the pink top (see image ) encouraged her to use a tray as a platform.  We ate the food we’d cooked and sadly our lesson came to a close.  Hugs, shreaks, and kisses for Coco- a “get out of here”gesture with laughter for me!   “Aly geet! Aly geet!” ( get lost!) they yelled.  We retuned to our hotel for some spa treatments ( after all we’d had a gruelling afternoon ).  I had the foot/leg massage WHICH WAS OUT OF THIS WORLD!  Coco had the Hamam or turkish bath and according to her they went at it hammer and tongs.  She said they start with a 5 minute steam, followed by full body scrub from tip to toenail, then a full body soapy massage, next another wash, ending in two complete rinses (one hot, one cold).  Then off to the turkish lounge for a visit with “Kelly the Kitten” ( Kelly short for Kelebek, our hotel ) named by Coco.

We went off to dinner at a restaurant called “The Orient” where we became involved in a pre-wedding celebration- much dancing and drinking raki followed, as did my hang over….more later.

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