Gozleme and goats.

nomadicsonblog

It is early afternoon in late September, that time in Turkey where the days are still warm and full of life yet the village pace seems to have slowed to a more ‘normal’ rhythm.  The majority of the tourists have returned home leaving more time for the Turks to do what Turks do best…prepare a favourite meal to share with their family, friends and any anyone else that happens to pass by.

Gathered together on the balcony, pressing my knife once into the freshly picked olive one by one ready for pickling.  Sitting inside underneath the fan shelling gigantic bakla beans from which seemed like a never-ending pile.  Yet my most vivid memories are of the times making gozleme and you would never have to ask me twice to help with that. The reward was too great.  Those delicious spinach and cheese filled breads toasted over an open fire and…

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