By all historical accounts, Istanbul was the place to be during the height of the Ottoman Empire. It was the central nervous system of a vastly expanded territory. Wonderous riches poured in from all directions. Caravans traveling down the Silk Road, the Spice Road, all made their way to Istanbul to sell their wares. If you think about the birth of Ottoman cuisine in this context, it makes perfect sense. The best spices, herbs and exotic fruits and vegetables found their way to the sultan’s table. Ottoman chefs had the opportunity to experiment with these items and expand the culinary possiblities of them. Sounds like a job I wouldn’t mind having!

One of the remnants that survives from that golden era is Osmanlı Mutfagı, or Ottoman Cuisine. It is a cuisine that is cloaked in romantic history, to be sure. In fact, one could even say that the prevalance of this style of cooking still today in the Balkans and the Middle East is standing evidence of a once great empirical power.

One need only visit Topkapı Palace in Istanbul to understand the importance of food in the times of the sultan. The palace grounds house areas that were once elaborate kitchens where a kitchen staff of 1,300 people perfected their recipes. Palace chefs didn’t just cook for the sultan and his court. They also cooked two meals a day to be served on the palace grounds to the general public. They were also responsible for festival feasts and also prepared food that was sent to various parts of the city on royal command. Chefs were interviewed in a very simple manner. They were judged on how well they made pilav (rice); a very simplistic, but essential, staple.

There is also historical evidence to suggest that food played an important role in the Ottoman military elite, known as the Jannisaries. The commanders of the main divisions were known as the Soupmen. Other names for high-ranking officers were the Chief Cook, Scullion, Baker, and, amusingly, the Pancake Maker.
The huge cauldron that was used to make pilav doubled as a political symbol. Whenever the Jannisaries decided that there ought to be a change in the Sultan’s cabinet, the pilav cauldron was overturned. In fact, “overturning the cauldron” is still an expression used in Turkish meant to indicate a rebellion in the ranks.

There aren’t many restaurants around that prepare true Osmanlı Mutfağı, so it has become somewhat of a lost art. It is a more complex cuisine utilizing a vast array of spices and herbs in delicate fashion. But I thought I would offer up a unique opportunity for all of you: a way to recreate the glory and deliciousness of a bygone time right in your own modern day kitchen. Sounds like fun, right?

In all fairness, I should add that the following recipe comes from the fantastic cookbook by Ayla Algar, Classical Turkish Cooking: Traditional Turkish Food for the American Kitchen.

Keep in mind, this recipe does have a long cooking time. If you properly arrange yourself, however, you will be treated to a very distinctive and clever taste sensation. I recommend wowing your friends the next time you have them over for brunch.

And because the Ottoman chefs kept such meticulous records, we not only have an idea of their provisions and recipes, but we also have little gems of stories to go along with them. Here’s the gem that goes along with the recipe I am going to give you. You get additional wow factor for regaling your guests with this story. After all, Turkey is an oral culture, even today, so by passing this story along, you will be continuing a fine tradition.

The recipe is for a dish called soğanlı yumurta, or carmelized onions with eggs. It is a relatively modest dish given its few ingredients, but the preparation of this dish had weighty repercussions. You see, this dish was made for the sultan on the fifteenth day of Ramadan, (the Muslim period of fasting), after he had returned from seeing a cloak that was allegedly worn by the Prophet Mohammed. It was a solemn occasion and the cooking of this dish on such a day was seen as a demanding task. However, if the sultan was pleased with the way the dish was prepared, the cook responsible was often appointed as head of the royal pantry; a coveted position in those times.
Without further ado, here is your recipe:

2 large red onions
4 tbsp unsalted butter
salt
water
1/2 tsp mild vinegar (such as balsamic)
1/8 tsp ground allspice
1/4 tsp ground cinnamonfreshly ground black pepper
1/2 tsp sugar

4 eggs
salt and pepper

Quarter the onions and cut into paper thing slices. Heat butter in a heavy skillet and add onions. Sprinkle with salt and cook over very low heat, stirring occasionally, for at least forty minutes, until onions turn reddish-brown and become slightly crispy. Be careful not to burn them! As onions cook and begin to dry, sprinkle in water. When onions are carmelized, add the vinegar, spices, pepper and sugar and mix thoroughly.
Make four depressions in the onions and crack an egg into each. Sprinkle with salt and pepper, cover, and cook gently until eggs are covered with a thin transparent film. Serve immediately.

I have made this dish myself and I was really pleased with the outcome. I love both eggs and carmelized onions, but never in my wildest dreams would I have thought of combining them. I find it’s never a bad thing to attempt to broaden your horizons. No matter what the outcome, you have learned something and can put it away for safe keeping.

Afiyet olsun (enjoy your meal), as we say here in Turkey!