Tastes of Smyrni.

 In my last post I showed some of the buildings in Smyrni that interested us during our recent visit there. With our hotel being on the sea-front, we were in the tourist area, so we decided to take a wee stroll in the market area, the suq, if you like, to catch some local flavours.

This tea/coffee house was splendidly set out – the low seating and the vividly coloured drapes were redolent of the mufraj in the Arab world – the room for socializing, drinking tea/coffee together, perhaps smoking a nargileh or chewing qat, depending on which country you are in.

                                      

Smyrni is famous for its pastries. Our hotel offered a huge breakfast buffet and, on our first morning there, I enthusiastically selected a cheese pie and a spinach pie, only to be disappointed by how dry they were. Similarly, Z was not impressed by the cakes and tea-breads which did not seem particularly fresh. (To give credit where due, they made the creamiest scrambled eggs e.v.e.r!)                                          

I was delighted to see this display of sweet and savoury pastries in the market. Couldn’t let that shop window spread go to waste so I asked the owner’s permission. It was only as I was about to shoot that I released the vendor was posing nicely – bless! -  so he is included. :)

                                                  

Almost every street has at least one dress shop sporting extravagant bridal gowns and wedding outfits. Clearly, they take such ceremonies seriously here.                                   

This intriguingly romantic shot of dervishes was hanging on the corridor wall just outside our room. Such dancers are members of the Sufi order, an order which dates back to the 13^th century as a mystic part of the Islamic world; in fact. Some regard the prophet, Mohammed, as the founder of Sufism.    The dance, known as Sufi whirling or turning, is a form of physically active meditation and through it they aspire to reach dharma – the source of all perfection. It involves lots of symbolism: their movement as that of the planets round the sun, the camel hair hat represents the tombstone of the ego, their wide skirts symbolize the ego shroud, but apparently produce a centrifugal force which reduces dizziness. I loved them – it was as if they were our private dancers, performing just for us each time we made a sortie outside our room.

                               

A little jaded at eating ‘tourist food’, while I was working, Z went on a reccie to suss out where the locals ate. Now not many people in the city spoke ‘foreign’ so Z came up with a gem. A young waiter did his utmost to explain that the meatballs – when in Smyrini …. – had no lamb in them (not our favourite meat) and explained what all their dishes were. We really enjoyed our meal, Z left our lad a nice wee tip and, with that, suddenly from the kitchen emerged mum, grandmum and grandpop. They appreciated our appreciation of the food and the mum was proud to say this was her son.  Quite right too!

The food was excellent and half the price of the tourist joints. Don’t we display satisfaction?