In the 1983 film The Man with Two Brains the scheming temptress, played by Kathleen Turner, finally consummates her marriage to Steve Martin only after learning of his pending inheritance. He lies beneath the sheets, drawing on a cigarette, a dreamy smile on his lips. “I never knew it could be like that!” he exhales. “So - so - professional!” Am I wrong in uttering a similarly satisfied complaint about one of Istanbul’s most fashionable dining rooms?
Mikla is a glass cage on the umpteenth floor of the Marmara Pera Hotel, has grand views and decent food, is strong on protocol but weak on passion. This may, of course, be deliberate. Chef Mehmet Gürs has roots in Scandinavia and perhaps is catering to a notion of Nordic cool. The word “Mikla” means “great” in Old Norse and is presumably less of a mouthful than “Miklagard”, which is how Viking boatmen referred to the Great City of Constantinople. The “great city” is the principal decoration: its glittering lights extend to the horizon. There is smooth jazz in the air and pools of light punctuate the dark room, but the view is the thing. Of course, it was just my luck to have one of the few seats in the room that didn’t have a panoramic view. Instead I had to look at myself reflected in the angled mirror opposite. In petty revenge, literally eaten cold, I sent back my order of mashed potatoes. Well, they were the wrong side of tepid. And I became annoyed that my plate was whisked away while my guests had yet to finish their main course. All that suavity put me on the defensive. The meaty main courses were tasty. I had a glazed entrecote of lamb a succulent cut which can sometimes be found in upmarket kebab restaurants. Also good was the lightly smoked lamb, pre-sliced and arranged like warm sashimi on a plate. The sea bass was only so-so. The portions are hardly Viking-sized and unless you order side dishes, chances are you might leave hungry. We had forsaken a first course so as to have room for desserts. These were good. Proper ice-cream alongside chocolaty chocolate cake and fondant puddings, and a pressed pear tart that had a blend of strong flavours including fennel and an odd but not unpleasant springy texture. We retired for coffee and a lot more view in the bar, which looks out onto Istanbul’s historic peninsula. A good, but heavily marked-up, wine list adds to the bill. | The panorama from Mikla, like that from the equally lofty 360 restaurant nearby, is a king-of-the-mountain, Manhattan power-view, and a very different vista from what I associate with a traditional Istanbul restaurant. The view at dinner from the restaurant of Istanbul Modern is no less spectacular for being more down-to-earth an outlook over the dark waters, framed by the illuminated skyline, with the soft lights of the restaurant reflected chimerically into the night. The feel is modern in the sense of 1960s brutalist the building is a converted warehouse, after all, and crossing the desolate car park to get to the museum is all part of the detox from traditional Istanbul to urban chic. For the dining room of a museum of contemporary art, however, the food is reassuringly old-fashioned. There is a separate lunch menu, and the terrace, which overlooks a quayside of passenger boats up to the Sülemaniye Mosque, is a popular summer-afternoon rendezvous. The dining room is now open for dinner until midnight. I had attended a group dinner there and had been impressed not just by the potency of my pre-dinner margaritas but by the heartiness of the food and the agreeableness of the waiters all in contrast to anodyne banquet fare. The penne sloshed about in puddles of pesto sauce and the fish was steamed, firm and flavourful. So I was lured into coming back with friends. The starters are elaborately sculpted. The lakerda (cured fish) was buttery, and I liked the “roasted spicy octopus”, overruling objections at the table that it was too salty. Only the cooked carpaccio disappointed too thick and ungainly to pose as an hors d’oeuvre. The Borsa group of restaurants that overseas the museum’s kitchens has helped pioneer a mix of European and Turkish food which is reflected in a menu including pasta rich in fresh porcini mushrooms, as well as straightforward grills or vegetables braised in olive oil. Istanbul Modern makes an unusually agreeable setting to exhibit their wares. The Film Night at the Museum captured the sense that curated objects have a life of their own once the visitors go home, and there is something special about being fêted after dark in a setting that is supposed to come alive only during the day. | Briefly noted: Strike your ice-hockey opponent on the back with your stick and chances are the referee will dispatch you to the sin-bin for several minutes. A sin-bin is not, of course, somewhere you go to be naughty but the penalty box where you go to be punished. Sinbin is thus an inapposite name for a new café, tucked inside the Etiler entrance to the Akmerkez shopping centre the café for the Beymen department store. It is designed in a playful and certainly not bashful style, all urging towards self-indulgence. The hot dishes are arrayed in small buffet I had duck with good vegetables, and there are all the salads and sweets and the extensive array of drinks demanded of a clientele of less-than-desperate housewives and their companions. It is only a few escalator rides away, but a million miles from the Akmerkez food court above. Mikla
The Marmara Pera Hotel,
Mesrutiyet Cad,
Tepebasi, Istanbul
Tel +90 212 293 5656 Istanbul Modern Café
Meclis-i Mebusan Cad,
Tophane, Istanbul.
Tel +90 212 292 2612;
Museum Tel +90 212 334 7300
www.istanbulmodern.org Sinbin
Akmerkez,
Etiler, Istanbul
Tel +90 212 282 0366/67 |
