Two years ago, when we did a road trip through southwest Türkiye, I kept looking for balık ekmek. If you don’t know what that is, don’t worry. Neither did I. But Victor kept mentioning how he and his parents enjoyed a delicious balık ekmek in a restaurant by the Bosphorus pier in Istanbul, when he went to Türkiye without me in 2022. From Izmir to Antalya, I searched every menu for the mysterious balık ekmek and never found it. The one time I saw it advertised in the street-side café, they were unfortunately out, and I ended up with a kebab.
Balık ekmek is not exactly complicated. It literally translates as fish bread from Turkish, and, according to pictures, it’s simply grilled mackerel on a bread roll. Which makes the lack of availability even more baffling. But I am not one to give up easily.
Earlier this year, we ended up in Türkiye again, once again meeting up with Victor’s family. This was my second chance, and I wasn’t going to waste it. When Victor was planning our week in Istanbul, he was worried we might run out of new places to visit. I kept reminding him that he was going mainly to see his family, and I was going mainly to eat balık ekmek. And visit his family.
We arrived in Istanbul a day before his family and spent the afternoon wandering through the Balat district, full of beautiful Orthodox churches and steep, narrow streets lined with ornamental houses. As the sun began to set, tired and jet-lagged, we were ready to call it a night. After a short tram ride, we needed to walk about 20 minutes uphill to our Airbnb, but I wanted one last glimpse at the gorgeous sunset, so we took a short detour toward the water.
At the pier, I saw a strange commotion. The walkway was full of families and couples out for an evening stroll, but near the water, a dense crowd had gathered. Men shouted above the noise, seagulls circled overhead, and the smell of smoke drifted through the air.
“What’s that?” I asked.
Victor squinted. “No idea.”
“I want to go take a look.”
We went down the steps, and halfway there, it hit me.
“Wait. Is this the Bosphorus pier? Could it be?”
It was. The crowd and the seagulls swarmed around a row of floating cafés, each serving the same thing: balık ekmek. Waiters shouted to lure in customers. Families crowded around small tables, piled with fish sandwiches on paper plates. Behind them, cooks grilled fish on swaying boats tied to the dock.
The waves slapped against the boats, making the grills rock dangerously, but the cooks didn’t flinch. They turned the fish in perfect rhythm with the water, balancing easily while the decks rolled beneath them. The air was thick with salt, smoke, and the sound of seagulls crying.
I stood there, completely transfixed. I had finally found it.
Victor was excited too. In 2022, he and his parents had eaten balık ekmek at a proper sit-down restaurant across the street, with a view of this same pier. He had no idea that these cafés even existed.
“Are you hungry?” he asked.
It honestly did not matter. We ran in and headed straight for the counter, to the delight of the shouting waiters. We decided to split one sandwich, but there was one more thing… Almost everyone eating balık ekmek were also drinking something red out of plastic cups. We had no idea what it was. Juice? Wine? Cold hibiscus tea?
I asked the waiter, and he said, “Turşu suyu! Want two?”
I had no idea what that meant, so I confidently said, “One!”
The sandwich and the drink arrived at our table in almost no time. The mackerel was perfectly grilled, spritzed with lemon, and came with onions and lettuce inside a fresh bread roll. It was everything I wanted, even though I didn’t know exactly what I wanted.
The red drink turned out to be juice… fermented vegetable juice, to be precise. If the sharp and tangy taste didn’t give it away, the floating cabbage and beets in the cup did. It was a bit like drinking pickle juice, but incredibly refreshing and paired perfectly with the rich grilled fish. Despite not being terribly hungry, we licked our paper plate and plastic cup clean.
We were lucky to try balık ekmek on the first day of our trip. Victor’s niece doesn’t like fish, so we never went back for another, and once we left for Şile, we didn’t see it on menu again. It seems that Turks believe this delicious fish must be caught, grilled, and eaten within a few feet of the Bosphorus. Or maybe it’s just one of those dishes that belongs entirely to this corner of Istanbul.
If you think my quest is over, you clearly don’t know me well. Apparently, there is another variety of this dish, called balık dürüm - the same grilled mackerel fillet, but wrapped in a thin, grilled flatbread called lavaş. And I must have it.
Until we meet again, Istanbul!
