Traveling to Turkey for business over the past fifteen years has given me a huge appreciation for all things Turkish, especially Turkish food. A typical meal starts with appetizers called Meza, followed by salads, main course, dessert, fruit and Turkish coffee. The food is so delicious, I often include Turkish specialties when I entertain back home in California. To make one of my dinner parties more authentic, I once hired a belly dancer to teach my guests belly dancing. It was the least I could do to help my guests work off all the excessive calories they consumed that night. At a Turkish table, no one walks away hungry, and of course you must try everything for fear of offending the host if something is left untouched.
Once while staying at a resort on the Aegean Sea, a Turkish stranger said to me, “You speak English well for a Turkish girl!” This was quite a compliment since I’m not Turkish and I’m definitely not fluent in the Turkish language. I have picked up most of my Turkish from Turks, so my Turkish pronunciation and use of Turkish slang must have sounded very authentic. From that day forward, my Turkish friends accused me of being more Turkish than they are.
One evening, my Turkish business partners decided to take me to a very special Turkish restaurant. When we arrived, the owner of the restaurant came out to talk about the specialty of the house…sheep’s head. His description sounded like something from an Indiana Jones movie. This Turkish delicacy included the brains, eyeballs and any other assorted parts contained in the skull of the sheep. My partners all raved about this famous dish. Not wanting to insult my hosts, of course I ordered sheep’s head.
The pungent aroma wafted towards my nostrils as soon as it left the kitchen. My stomach turned a few rotations as the dish was slapped before me. Those beady little sheep’s eyes stared at me without blinking. Ugh…what am I doing disturbing this poor sheep’s soul? I gingerly picked at the little bits of flesh around the cheeks. Noticing my discomfort, the waiter came over to encourage me to try the brains and the eyeballs because those were the most special. He even scooped the eyes and brains out of their cavities and onto my plate to make it easier for me to eat. I forced myself to eat one of the squishy gray eyeballs and almost gagged. The same with the grayish pink brain matter as it slid down my throat like a large, slimy slug. After observing my gastronomic agony for at least thirty minutes, my partners were no longer able to contain their laughter. The laughter started slowly and then flowed out deep and loud until tears were flowing down their cheeks.
“What are you laughing at?” I questioned angrily. “I’m sorry but as Turkish as you think I am this is really disgusting.” By now, I had completely gotten over my fear of offending the cook. I looked that sheep in the eyes and refused to eat another bite!
The laughing continued mercilessly until Bedii one of the Turks choked out, “You are definitely more Turkish than us once again. Even though we have lived in Turkey all our lives, we would never eat anything as horrible as Sheep’s Head. We can’t believe you even took one bite!”
