THE SIMIT

So Much More than a “Turkish Bagel”

While working on an English version of a book originally written in Turkish, I came across the clause that explained a simit is a “Turkish bagel”

And yes, if forced to, I would translate “simit” as “Turkish bagel.” 

But it is so much more.

I love my New York style bagels, with a schmear, thank you.

But nothing compares to the texture, the vaguely sweet exterior of a simit.

Plus, simits are so sociable.

In Istanbul, you walk into any square, off a ferry, down a road – and there’s a simit cart.

You can smell them.

You hear people talking.

Even if you don’t understand what they are saying, you are part of the dialogue on politics, the weather, the Besiktas match, etc.

As tourists, we all have stopped at the carts in Manhattan, set up on a busy corner to sell bagels, hard rolls, donuts and breakfast sandwiches to rushed New Yorkers on their way to work. 

It is not the same.

You can get a simit all day.

I have stayed at hotels in Turkey with endless, fresh simits – and some wonderful homemade jams – at the free breakfast buffet set up on a beautiful terrace overlooking the Sea of Marmara. 

By the third day, I found myself walking the streets to buy a simit.

The air from the nearby Golden Horn and Bosphorus, the gulls diving in hope you have a crumb of dough to toss them, the sounds of Istanbul traffic – cars, people, trams – it all makes the simit taste like the most wonderful food from heaven.