Do you remember dessert pizzas? Pizza hut made them, for a while. Part of their endless search for new ways to apply their delicious combo of oil and flour and oil. I actually don’t remember exactly what was on them.. sugared strawberries and pineapple and chocolate sauce and whipped cream, or some such, but I know that even this ludicrous delight totally pales when compared to Kunefe. Kunefe is, in my humble but extremely well-versed opinion, the perfect dessert. It accomplishes what PH might have been trying for – a blend of salty and sweet, of multiple textures and flavours and food groups all served hot and spectacular. It is all that is good. It has the decadent, gooey stretchy salty goodness of perfectly melted cheese, the crisp, satisfying Crunch of something cooked just the right amount, the sticky, nearly overwhelming sweetness of far too much honey, and it’s topped with the always satisfying richness of nuts and the refreshing-yet-luxurious smoothness of crème fraiche. God. Damn.

All this glory followed up a ludicrously good meal of adana kebap (skewered grilled spicy ground beef thing) served with platefuls of fresh herbs, roasted peppers and onions, and freshly made salsa with pomegranate sauce  and tomato salad (which I got to watch the chef prepare in a thwacking blur of flying tomato chunks and very sharp knife). The restaurant was near the metro station on my way to the bus, crammed with low tables and chairs and full-up with Turkish diners. More than a few questioning glances when I wandered in with my backpack, but oh so worth it. The noise and the frantic energy and the outstanding food. Copper mugs of in-house-frothed Ayran (salty yoghourt drink) and many, many skewers of chicken flying off the grill. A perfect final meal in a country where I ate far too much and never regretted it.