Istanbul_ The Collected Traveler_ An Inspired Companion Guide - Barrie Kerper [186]
Bursa Kebabçisı is perfectly placed in the square by the tombs, in an old wooden house rescued by Ibrahim Ünal Avşar, a math teacher, who does good Iskender kebab, grilled köfte on pide, and delicious puddings: milky kadayıf, dried figs stuffed with walnuts (inch tathsı), pumpkin pudding (kabak tathsı). Order a mix and add a dollop of cream (kaymak). The grape juice (şira) and coffee cannot be bettered. If the garden is full, step upstairs for an even better view.
Çekirge
This is bathhouse territory. Çekirge, once a distant suburb on the road to Uludağ, grew up around Hüdavendigar Camii and the famous hot springs. There used to be hamams of every shape and size, and a few survive. Most have a hotel attached.
Survive the noisy wedding parties at the Kervansaray Hotel, and in the morning head in your dressing gown to the Eski Kaplıca. At the Gönlüferah Hotel, a revamped grande dame with the best private hamams (domed pools and lion’s heads), step into the lift. The Çelik Palas has a Goldfinger pool, but the water is heated.
Çardak and its fab potato köfte are no more; smart hotels spurn Turkish food. On a fine day take the Uludağ road and try an open-air kendin pişir kendin ye (“cook-yourself, eat-yourself”) place. Lamb by the kilo comes to the table with a charcoal mangal. Sprinkle with oregano and order a drink.
Yildirim Bayezit and the Lower Town
Motorways and malls march across the plain with little for culture vultures except Yıldırım Bayezid Camii, 1399, model for the Yeşil Cami—with the portico it lacks—and good places to eat.
Kurtuluş Cad (Yıldırım Belediyesi) has Bursa’s best offal soup (paça) shops: the immaculate Paçacı Hüsnü (no. 219) and earthy Çorbacı Salih (no. 187). Like many Bursa citizens, Hüsnü is from the Balkans. Veal, vinegar, and garlic are the ingredients of his soups, always rich but delicate: there’s tripe, finely chopped (işkembe) or chunky (tuzlama), head (kelle), tongue (dil), trotter (ayak), or brain soup, or a mix. The late Çorbacı Salih served tripe soup for thirty years. Korkut, his grandson, has added pilav, beans (kuru fasulya), and malak ciğeri, tender female water-buffalo liver.
The lower town has two fine lokantas: affable Selim Usta (Demirtaş Paşa Hamamı, Inönü Caddesi 70) offers steaming broths, stews, pilav, beans, silky helva. Olive-oil dishes include artichokes and vineleaf dolma. Hayat (by the Almira Hotel) attracts factory owners and a conveyor belt of SUVs.
Iskender’s heirs now own the trademark and are busy opening emporia, including the tourist group-friendly Botanik Bahçesi—Hollywood Bursa. Hacıbey is a plush place at a BP station on the Istanbul road. For the real thing, join the queue in the old Garaj spare-parts district—Uludağ Kebabçısı is owned by brothers Cemal and Cemil, old Iskender hands.
Short Trips
Bithynia, as the province was called when Pliny was governor, is prosperous, fertile land, far from the tourist trail. To the north, between Yalova and Bursa, the hills are draped with olive groves and Umbria comes to mind. East, the road to Ankara leads to the sterner Anatolian plateau, softened in spring by drifts of cherry blossom. This is border country, littered with the tombs of habas and sultans, the spiritual leaders of the nomadic Turcomans, who settled here in the twelfth century. They are still places of pilgrimage. Along the Marmara west of Bursa is flatter, even more fertile land—good dairy country; hence Bursa’s excellent cheeses, worth stocking up on for picnics. The sites are rarely ends in themselves, but are good excuses to roam. Behind every giant plane there’s a story (and often a café).
Uludağ: Coffee under Inkaya’s giant plane tree is the first stop, then on you drive, up through forests, first of chestnut then of fir, with places to eat, until you