An Introduction: Between Bites
On sharing, caring and eating
“I swear this never happens.”
I’m looking at the glistening piece of flesh in front of me. Across from me, he is waiting, mouth parted, ready to attack if given the opportunity. Next to him, she licks her lips, making a faint smacking noise as the two halves meet each other again. I look down at my stomach, then up to the two others waiting for me to pick up where they left off. I shake my head in a dramatic no and sigh. “I can’t do it.”
“Fine, more for me,” he says and reaches for the last two slices of beef. Stabbing one right in the juicy, red centre, he moves his fork like an ice skater on a rink, absorbing every last drop of Cafe de Paris sauce on the plate and crowns it with two french fries. The perfect bite.
You weren’t sure where we were going with this were you? Lucky for you, I am Turkish, and while I was raised by extremely supportive and liberal parents, I will not be writing about sex. I will, however, be writing about its counterpart, food. Much has been said about the relationship between food and sex, about devouring meals and bodies, and the pleasure of the senses. I mean, don’t listen to me, a 24-year-old Turkish woman who often watches Sainsbury’s 2014 Christmas commercial to have a good cry. Listen to Pope Francis:
"The pleasure of eating is there to keep you healthy by eating, just like sexual pleasure is there to make love more beautiful and guarantee the perpetuation of the species," Francis said.
Getting dinner with my two best friends that day was a rather anxious affair for no particular reason. I was in the midst of major life changes (as well as a breakup) and wasn't ready to share or talk about them. So I held it in, excusing myself to the bathroom to splash water on my face and spent two painful hours not being able to stomach much. A slice of pizza, a few bites of steak and I was done. Shockingly for anyone who knows me, my brain had decided that I simply could not eat anymore. Bummer for me, joyous for my bank account which had seen little spending on anything other than restaurant bills for the past 4 years.
The first time my emotional state stopped me from enjoying a meal was the past summer at KiKi’s in New York, a cosy Greek restaurant smack in the middle of Chinatown ( more frequently referred to as Dimes Square by new residents (or gentrifiers but we will discuss this another day)) with an intimidating New York crowd. My friend hurriedly ate the food we ordered to share because he knew it was time to go; stuffing pieces of bifteki in his mouth with one hand and rice with the other. Witnessing the ultimate throat-drying combo, I was honestly shocked he didn’t take any water or yoghurt to lubricate his throat. The tears that had been building throughout dinner finally erupted as we walked back to my apartment on Canal Street and climaxed as we reached my 6th-floor walk-up.
The reason for all of this?
I was leaving NYC after five years for London. Not a bad deal at all, I know, I’m not complaining. But as an “emotional lobster,” as my Dutch friend calls Cancers (not that I reeeeeally believe in horoscopes), I was sad to be leaving my friends, my favourite restaurants, the wine store that knew me until one day they decided that they did not, the coffee shop with the best tempeh bacon breakfast burrito to ever exist, the subway, my routine and everything else.
I have a lighter from an interior design store called Coming Soon that I paid 5 dollars for in a moment of nostalgia. Against a blue background, bright pink letters read, “New York, New York. So nice you say it twice.” It was nice. So nice that the thought or act of leaving it behind left a perpetual red brick in my stomach.
This is not a newsletter about New York.
In Journalism school, they teach you to mention the subject of the interview/article in the first paragraph. As you can see, I buried the lede. As a recent Master’s graduate, I stand before you with a concept. A concept that is not ground-breaking, however a concept very dear to my heart — and I am sure many others.
Sharing!
Yes! Sharing. More specifically food-sharing. This newsletter is about the act of sharing food and everything that happens between the bites you take. Between bites1
I have been privileged enough to live in three major cities; Istanbul, New York and London, and visit many others from Thailand to Cuba. Every city has its own cornucopia of restaurants and culinary traditions. My aim is to experience a little bit of it through the lens of food-sharing. The focus will be on the three cities I mentioned prior, but as I move across this earth, I hope to visit other colourful, lively, delicious cities and share. Share a meal, share a conversation and share the experience.
I am by no means a food professional. As Alicia Kennedy writes in her lovely newsletter, being a food content creator in the 21st century comes with many hats to wear and isn’t limited to culinary professionals (for better or for worse). I am simply and humbly just an avid food eater and beverage drinker. This newsletter is my — dare I say, our?— journey of learning about the food scene in different cities: not only sharing delicious meals but also delicious stories.
New York will come up, as will Turkey, and inevitably, so will my adoration for Anthony Bourdain, soup, pickles, and other things. It is anything and everything served up within the concept of sharing food.
The Rundown
Every month you’ll receive a newsletter from me detailing a conversation I had with the people I shared a meal with. I love eavesdropping on conversations happening around me at restaurants: so I’m giving you permission to listen in on mine. You’ll get to know someone from the restaurant I visited; perhaps the owner, the busboy, the host, or even an avid customer. Lastly, I’ll give you a rundown of the prices, dishes, atmosphere, and all the good stuff.
Why share food?
Turkish culture revolves around sharing food. Cem Yılmaz, a famous comedian, even made the joke that Turkish people have this subconscious hand gesture when they go to restaurants:
We make a circle by touching our thumbs and index fingers together and turn it towards the server as if putting a plate in the middle of the table. Yılmaz then explains during his stand-up performance that the gesture is followed by saying “We want all of these, but little little and in the middle,” to indicate that we will all be sharing the food. Crowds erupt with laughter because it’s such a spot-on observation. I can’t count the number of times I was caught in that exact position.
The culinary and cultural mosaic of countries depends on diversity. In light of rising nationalism across the globe, food becomes a powerful tool for unity. A common denominator, if you will. Everybody eats. Not only do we eat, but we actually eat globally. Being able to experience a little bite of somewhere else is exciting and extremely informative. It's the most fun way to learn and try to understand.
Lastly, during the occasional spurts when I couldn’t eat much and felt big feelings, I was reminded by my mother of the importance of sharing. Sharing and talking about the big feelings that fill you up if you don't let them out, the importance of reminding yourself that there are people in your life, willing and happy to be there for you, to listen to you and to support you in your times of need; whether that’s to help you finish off a gigantic bowl of spaghetti puttanesca or to unpack why you cry every time you listen to Cowboy Take Me Away by the Chicks.
So why are we here? Why are you reading these words?
I mean, for one, I’m hoping you are reading this because you are my friend and I frantically sent you this link asking you to subscribe and you decided to boost my confidence by doing so. But if you happened to just stumble onto this, oh great joy! Since you made it this far, I’m sure you’re going to enjoy the following issues of this newsletter. Next month we are sitting at a table in Dishoom, a beloved London institution with great decoration and lots to share. So tune in!
Don’t forget to follow Between Bites on Instagram and if, by any chance, you know Turkish, make sure to subscribe to 20’lik, a publication about living life, finding your path and analyzing world events as a 20-something.
Okay, enough talk. Let’s EAT!
Yasmin xx
Don’t you love it when they mention the name of the movie IN the movie? Yeah me neither, I apologise, won’t happen again.