In Praise of Istanbul
<p>Ali’s mother had sent him to grab bread from the local bakery. She called out to him from the kitchen– breakfast was almost ready. Little plates with sliced tomatoes, cucumbers, 3 different types of black olives, 2 types of green olives -one pickled and the other stuffed with red peppers-, honey, 5 different types of jam, and cubed cheese took their place on the table. The menemen sizzled in the pan for another 30 seconds before she paced into Ali’s room and threw his blanket on the floor.</p>
<p>“I’m up mama” squeaked Ali as he pulled his legs closer to his body to preserve some type of warmth. Ali wasn’t up, his eyes were covered in boogers and the more he rubbed the more blurry his vision got.</p>
<p><a href="https://verasara-poyraz.medium.com/in-praise-of-istanbul-145686e5c802"><strong>Read More</strong></a></p>