Turkey has stayed with me ever since I first visited years ago with my youngest son on an educational tour. I’ll pick up where I left off in my previous post. 

After a few unforgettable days exploring Old Istanbul, we climbed onto our tour bus and headed across western Turkey.

We visited the Acropolis of Pergamum, then stopped in Bergama where we learned how beautiful Turkish silk rugs are woven by hand. Watching the women weave each rug was fascinating. The patience, precision, and artistry that went into every piece were incredible. From there we continued on to Ephesus before visiting the House of the Virgin Mary.

Walking through Ephesus didn’t feel like visiting ruins. It felt alive. I could imagine what life had been like thousands of years ago, but more than that, I felt the place. Maybe that sounds a little strange, but it really did have an energy to it. And then there were the cats. They were everywhere. I remember thinking they looked like little guardians, quietly watching over the people who had once lived there.

From there we traveled to the coastal town of Kuşadası. One evening we were sitting out on our hotel balcony when we realized there was a wedding taking place below us. We spent the evening watching the ceremony, the music, the dancing, and all the celebrating. We hadn’t planned it. It was just one of those unexpected gifts that travel sometimes gives you.

And of course…there was the food.

Every meal seemed to introduce me to something new. Spices I’d never tasted. A different way of cooking vegetables. Fresh bread. Yogurt with almost everything. It was simple food that somehow had incredible depth of flavor.

Fast forward quite a few years.

A few weeks ago I was wandering through The Spice House in Chicago. Sitting on the shelf was some Urfa Biber. I picked it up immediately because I already knew Turkey would be my next Cookbook Shelf adventure. It just felt like one of those little moments where life nudges you and says, “Yep…you’re on the right track.”

I started with The Imam Fainted baked eggplant, but it really felt like it wanted some company on the plate. So I flipped through the cookbook and landed on a recipe for pounded lamb chops. I borrowed the spice rub, rubbed it onto a rack of lamb the night before, and Paul grilled it on the Weber while I finished everything else.

Homemade lavash. Garlic yogurt. Charred peppers.

Somewhere in the middle of cooking, I realized I wasn’t just thinking about the places we’d visited. I was remembering the people. That wedding in Kuşadası. Our guide. The calls to prayer drifting across the city. Sitting down together at the end of each day and wondering what we’d be eating next.

The funny thing is, the eggplant completely stole the show.

I used Edirne eggplants because they’re sweeter and creamier than the globe eggplants we usually see. I wasn’t disappointed. They bake down until they’re silky soft, and once they’re stuffed with slowly cooked onions, peppers, tomatoes, and herbs, they’re almost impossible to stop eating.

Honestly, forget the knife and fork. Scoop some onto warm lavash, add a swipe of garlic yogurt, and enjoy.

The lamb had that wonderful smoky, slightly spicy crust from the rub, and somehow everything just worked together. Sweet. Smoky. Creamy. Cool yogurt. Warm bread.

One of the things I’ve noticed since starting Cookbook Shelf is that I rarely cook just one recipe anymore. One recipe turns into two. Then another one catches my eye. Before I know it, I’m planning an entire meal because I want to understand how all the pieces fit together.

That’s probably my favorite part of cooking this way.

Years after leaving Turkey, one little packet of Urfa Biber sitting on a shelf in Chicago somehow brought me right back.

That’s one of the things I’m discovering with the Cookbook Shelf. A recipe isn’t just dinner. Sometimes it’s a place. Sometimes it’s a person. Sometimes it’s a memory you didn’t even realize was waiting for you.

Food has a funny way of doing that.

One cookbook, one recipe, and one memory at a time.

Turkish Rack of Lamb with Imam Bayıldı

Serves 4

Ingredients

Lamb

2 racks of lamb

Spice Rub

3 tbsp red pepper paste
2 tbsp tomato paste
2 tbsp Urfa Biber pepper flakes
1/2 tsp ground allspice
1/2 tsp ground cumin
1/4 tsp ground cloves
1/8 tsp ground cinnamon
1 tbsp olive oil
4–6 long red chili peppers (optional)

Method

Trim the racks of lamb, removing any silver skin. Pat dry and, using a sharp knife, make several shallow cuts across the meat.

In a small bowl, combine the red pepper paste, tomato paste, Urfa Biber, allspice, cumin, cloves, cinnamon, and olive oil. Rub the mixture all over the lamb, working it into the cuts. Cover and refrigerate overnight.

The next day, remove the lamb from the refrigerator and let it come to room temperature, about 45 minutes to 1 hour.

Preheat the grill. Wipe off any large pieces of the spice paste so they don’t burn. Grill the lamb, turning to sear all sides, until the internal temperature reaches 118–120°F (48–49°C) for medium-rare. If using the red chili peppers, grill them alongside the lamb until lightly charred.

Transfer the lamb to a cutting board and let it rest for about 15 minutes. The temperature will continue to rise about 5 degrees, finishing around 125°F (52°C) for medium-rare.

Slice into two-rib portions and serve with the Imam Bayıldı, grilled peppers, warm lavash, and garlic yogurt.

Note: I adapted the spice rub from the cookbook’s Pounded Lamb Chops recipe and used it on a rack of lamb.

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İmam Bayıldı (The Imam Fainted)

Serves 4

Ingredients

4 small Edirne eggplants
3 medium onions, thinly sliced
Olive oil
1/4 cup water
1 red bell pepper, thinly sliced
4 garlic cloves, minced
2 plum tomatoes, seeded and diced
1/3 cup flat-leaf parsley, finely chopped
1/4 tsp freshly ground black pepper

Tomato Sauce

2 tbsp tomato paste
1 1/4 cups boiling water

Method

Preheat the oven to 375°F (190°C).

Prick the eggplants all over with a fork. Rub lightly with olive oil and place on a parchment-lined baking sheet. Roast for about 45 minutes, or until nicely browned and very soft.

Increase the oven temperature to 425°F (220°C).

Meanwhile, prepare the filling.

Place the sliced onions in a large sauté pan with two generous pinches of salt. Using your hands, gently massage the salt into the onions until they begin to soften.

Add a generous drizzle of olive oil and the water. Cook over medium-low heat for about 5 minutes.

Add the sliced red pepper and garlic. Continue cooking, stirring occasionally, until the onions and peppers are very soft but not mushy, about 30 minutes.

Stir in the tomatoes and parsley. Cook just until the parsley turns bright green, then remove from the heat.

For the sauce, whisk together the tomato paste and boiling water until smooth.

Using a knife, carefully slit each eggplant from stem to tip without cutting all the way through. Gently press the flesh apart to create a pocket.

Divide the onion mixture evenly among the eggplants.

Arrange the stuffed eggplants in a shallow baking dish. Pour the tomato sauce around the eggplants, not over the tops.

Bake for about 30 minutes, until the filling is lightly charred and the sauce has reduced and thickened.

Let the eggplants rest for about 20 minutes before serving.

To serve: Place the eggplant on the plate with slices of the grilled lamb, warm lavash, garlic yogurt, and the charred peppers. Spoon some of the tomato sauce around the eggplant before serving.

Afiyet olsun! (Enjoy your meal!)