Fish, Pickles and Sunset Tea: Istanbul's Asian Side from Kadıköy Market to Moda

Step off the ferry in ancient Chalcedon and eat your way through Kadıköy's market, past the Bull of Altıyol and down Moda's leafy streets to tea on the cliffs above the Sea of Marmara

Istanbul · 11 stops · 25 min audio · Generated October 2026

1. 1. Kadıköy Ferry Pier & the View of Haydarpaşa Station

   Kadıköy İskelesi, Rıhtım Caddesi, Caferağa, 34710 Kadıköy/İstanbul, Türkiye

   Step off the ferry, let the crowd sweep past you, and turn to face the water. Gulls hang over the boats, simit sellers call out, and across the little bay to your right stands a stone palace with pointed corner towers, sitting right on the sea. That is Haydarpaşa Station, and you are in Asia.

   The station was built by German engineers and architects between 1906 and 1908 and opened in 1909, as the grand terminus of the Anatolian Railway. It was the Istanbul end of the line towards Baghdad, the great railway project of the Ottoman Empire and its ally Kaiser Wilhelm the Second. Because the shore is reclaimed land, the whole building sits on more than a thousand wooden piles driven deep into the seabed.

   It has had a dramatic life. In 1917, during the First World War, an explosion of ammunition stored at the station caused huge damage. In 2010 a fire destroyed its roof. In 2013 the long-distance trains stopped coming, and since then the station has waited, restored on the outside, while archaeologists digging around it uncovered remains of ancient and Byzantine Chalcedon.

   Because that is the real surprise of this shore. Kadıköy is ancient Chalcedon, founded by Greek settlers from Megara in the seventh century BC, some years before Byzantium rose on the opposite bank. The historian Herodotus tells how a Persian general mocked its founders as blind, for choosing this shore when the far better harbour across the water lay empty. Later tradition turned the story into a prophecy telling the founders of Byzantium to settle opposite the land of the blind.

   The Chalcedonians, though, had the last laugh in one way: they got the food. Fishermen, market gardeners and bakers have been feeding this side of the city ever since, and the market behind you is one of the best in Istanbul. Cross the busy road by the pier, and head into the streets of the market, towards a church that stands among fishmongers.

2. 2. Aya Efimia: The Church of the Council of Chalcedon

   Yasa Caddesi, Osmanağa, 34714 Kadıköy/İstanbul, Türkiye

   Between the market stalls, behind a wall and a gate, a Greek Orthodox church hides among the fishmongers and greengrocers. Pause at the gate, with the smell of fish and fresh bread drifting past, and read the name: Aya Efimia, Saint Euphemia.

   Euphemia was a young Christian woman of Chalcedon, martyred, the story goes, around the year 303, under Emperor Diocletian. Chalcedon built her a great basilica, and in 451 that basilica hosted one of the most important meetings in the history of Christianity: the Council of Chalcedon. Hundreds of bishops gathered here, on this side of the water, to argue about one question... how Christ could be both fully God and fully human.

   There is a lovely legend about it. When the bishops could not agree, both sides wrote down their definitions and placed them in Euphemia's tomb. When the tomb was opened days later, the story goes, the orthodox scroll was in the saint's hand and the other lay at her feet. Legend or not, the Council's decision still divides Christians today: the Armenian, Coptic and Syriac churches never accepted it.

   The ancient basilica is long gone, and its exact site is still debated. The church in front of you is far more recent, built for the Greek families of Kadıköy, who once filled these streets alongside Armenians, Jews and Levantines. If the gate is open, step in for a moment: icons, candles, a carved wooden iconostasis, and the hush of a village church in the middle of the busiest market on the Asian side. And Euphemia herself? Her relics now rest across the water, in the patriarchal Church of St George in Fener.

   But you came to Kadıköy to eat, and the market will not wait. This neighbourhood still lives the way the old city did, around fresh produce sold by people who know exactly where it came from. Turn back towards the pier side of the market and find Muvakkithane Caddesi, where a sweet shop's name has been famous since the eighteenth century.

3. 3. Hacı Bekir: Lokum Since 1777

   Muvakkithane Caddesi No:6, Caferağa, 34710 Kadıköy/İstanbul, Türkiye

   Stop at the window and let your eyes adjust: neat pyramids of lokum dusted with sugar, rose pink, pistachio green, lemon yellow, and jars of glassy boiled sweets glowing like stained glass. The name over the door is Hacı Bekir, and it carries more history than any other name in this market.

   The company was founded in 1777 by a confectioner called Bekir, a man from Kastamonu on the Black Sea side of Anatolia, who opened his first shop on the old peninsula across the water. He made such good sweets that he became chief confectioner to the Ottoman court. This branch is much younger than the company, but the recipes and the name have been handed down through the family for generations.

   Lokum existed before him, but tradition credits Hacı Bekir's shop with perfecting it, using refined sugar and starch to get that soft, elastic, almost wobbly bite. European travellers fell for it and took boxes home, where it became Turkish delight. In the late nineteenth century his grandson, Ali Muhiddin, won medals at European exhibitions, and the family business grew into a symbol of Istanbul taste.

   Now look at the hard, clear sweets in the jars. They are called akide şekeri. Akide means a pledge or a creed, and the story goes that on the Janissaries' pay day, the sultan sent them these sweets... if the soldiers accepted, all was well; if they refused, a rebellion could be brewing. A bag of sugar as a political barometer.

   Try a piece of plain rose lokum first, then one with mastic, which tastes a little like pine and a little like chewing gum. Locals often bring a box when visiting friends or family, because you never arrive empty-handed in this city. Then cross into the parallel lane, Güneşlibahçe Sokak, and follow the sound of fishmongers shouting.

4. 4. Güneşlibahçe Sokak: The Fish Market

   Güneşlibahçe Sokak, Caferağa, 34710 Kadıköy/İstanbul, Türkiye

   Listen first. Fishmongers calling out prices, a hose splashing over ice, a knife thudding on a wooden board. Then look down at the stalls on Güneşlibahçe Sokak: silver rows of fish laid out like fans, with the gills of some turned outward to show off a bright red, the fishmonger's proof that the catch is fresh.

   Istanbul sits on one of the great fish highways of the world. Every year shoals migrate through the Bosphorus between the Black Sea and the Sea of Marmara, and the city's calendar follows them. In autumn, people talk about lüfer, bluefish, the most prized fish of Istanbul, grilled simply with salt. In winter, the stalls fill with hamsi, small anchovies from the Black Sea, fried in cornmeal or baked with rice.

   Hamsi is almost a religion on the Black Sea coast. People there claim to know dozens of dishes made from it, including bread, pilaf and even a dessert... whether anyone actually eats the dessert is a question for a long evening. Here in Kadıköy you will also see istavrit, horse mackerel, red mullet, sea bass, and in season the famous turbot from the Black Sea, sold in thick slices.

   The fishermen will tell you, with a sigh, that the catch is not what it was. Overfishing and pollution have thinned the shoals, and lüfer in particular has become rarer and smaller, which is why there are now rules on how small a fish may legally be caught. When you choose fish here, the locals' advice is simple: buy what is in season, and ask the fishmonger what came in this morning.

   Look out, too, for the midye dolma sellers in the evenings, with trays of mussels stuffed with spiced rice; you squeeze lemon over one and eat it straight from the shell. Then wander a little further down the market lanes, where the windows fill with jars of every colour... the pickle shops of Kadıköy.

5. 5. Turşu: The Pickle Shops of Kadıköy

   Güneşlibahçe Sokak (southern end), Caferağa, 34710 Kadıköy/İstanbul, Türkiye

   Stop in front of one of the pickle shop windows in these lanes and take it in: jars and barrels of cabbage, cucumbers, green tomatoes, peppers, beans, beetroot and carrots, glowing in shades of green, red and gold. On the counter, a row of glasses waits to be filled with something cloudy and pink. That is pickle juice, and people drink it.

   Turşu, pickles, are one of the pillars of the Turkish table. Vegetables go into brine with salt, garlic and sometimes vinegar, and many families add a handful of chickpeas or a crust of stale bread, which, so the old wisdom says, helps the fermentation along. Beetroot gives the brine its deep colour. In the old days, every household made its own in autumn, filling jars to see the family through the winter, when fresh vegetables were scarce.

   Turkish even has pickle idioms. If someone says they are turşu gibi, like a pickle, they are completely exhausted. And if someone tells you to go and make a pickle of something, they mean it is useless, so keep it to yourself. Yet pickles are anything but useless. A glass of turşu suyu, the sour, salty juice, is a classic winter drink in Istanbul, and many swear by it after a long night... a pickle-juice cure that predates every sports drink.

   There is real craft behind the counter. The pickle maker has to balance salt and acid, keep the jars at the right temperature, and know exactly how many days each vegetable needs. Too little time and the cucumber is still raw; too much and it goes soft. A good pickle should crack between your teeth.

   Ask for a small mixed plate, or a glass of the juice if you are brave. Then leave the market behind, cross the main road and head up towards Altıyol, the six-way junction, where a bronze bull has been staring down the traffic for more than half a century.

6. 6. The Bull of Altıyol

   Altıyol Meydanı, Osmanağa, 34714 Kadıköy/İstanbul, Türkiye

   In the middle of the six-way junction, head lowered, tail flicking, a bronze bull stands ready to charge the traffic. This is the Boğa, the Bull of Altıyol, and if you arrange to meet anyone in Kadıköy, chances are they will say: at the Bull.

   The bull is French. It is the work of the sculptor Isidore Bonheur, an animal sculptor from a family of animal artists... his sister Rosa Bonheur was one of the most famous painters of horses and cattle of the nineteenth century. The statue was cast in the 1860s, and the story goes that it stood in Paris before it was brought to Istanbul in the early twentieth century, as a gift connected with the German emperor and the Ottoman court.

   What happened next is a city legend in itself. The bull is said to have moved from palace garden to private garden to hotel garden, changing owners and neighbourhoods, before it finally landed here at Altıyol. Somewhere along the way, it became a creature of Kadıköy, and the neighbourhood will not let it go. People here speak of it as a neighbour rather than a monument. And it deserves the attention: look at the muscles bunched in the neck, the twist of the tail, the weight thrown onto the front hooves, the work of a sculptor who spent his life watching real animals.

   Why a bull? Partly chance, but it fits. Kadıköy has always had a stubborn, independent streak: the district of students, writers, theatres, rock music and protest. It is also the home of Fenerbahçe, one of Turkey's great football clubs, founded in Kadıköy in 1907, and on match days this junction becomes a sea of yellow and navy blue.

   Look around the junction: buses, students, street musicians, and somebody always waiting at the bull, checking a phone. Then take the street heading south, General Asım Gündüz Caddesi, which everyone still calls by its old name, Bahariye, where in a few minutes an elegant building with a theatre's façade appears on your left.

7. 7. Süreyya Opera House

   General Asım Gündüz Caddesi No:29, Osmanağa, 34714 Kadıköy/İstanbul, Türkiye

   On your left, between the shop fronts, rises a façade that seems to have wandered in from Paris: tall, symmetrical, cream-coloured, with relief panels and a sober, elegant line. This is the Süreyya Opera House, and the building has had a far more adventurous life than it lets on.

   It was built in 1927 by Süreyya İlmen, known as Süreyya Pasha, a former deputy and textile businessman who loved music and theatre. His dream was simple: to give the Asian side of Istanbul its own stage for operetta and music, so people would not have to cross the water for culture. The architect was Kegham Kavafyan, an Istanbul Armenian, and the façade is said to have been inspired by the Théâtre des Champs-Élysées in Paris.

   And then, the dream met reality. The building turned out to lack some of what a true opera house needs, and for decades it worked mostly as a cinema. Generations of Kadıköy families grew up watching films under its painted ceilings, and many locals still remember it as Süreyya Sineması, the Süreyya cinema.

   After a long restoration it finally reopened as an opera house in 2007, eighty years after it was built. Süreyya Pasha's dream had come true, just a lifetime late. Look at the reliefs on the façade and the lettering, and imagine the opening night in 1927, the year the young Republic was still changing its alphabet, its laws and its clothes.

   This street was once the elegant spine of Kadıköy, with patisseries and cafés where the district's Greek, Armenian, Jewish and Turkish families took their afternoon tea and cake. Some of that spirit lingers in the side streets, and the long pedestrian stretch of Bahariye is still where Kadıköy goes for its evening stroll. Turn right and wind your way west into the narrow lanes until you reach Kadife Sokak, the street everyone here simply calls Barlar Sokağı, the street of bars.

8. 8. Kadife Sokak: The Street of Bars and Meyhanes

   Kadife Sokak, Caferağa, 34710 Kadıköy/İstanbul, Türkiye

   You are standing in a narrow lane of old two- and three-storey houses, their ground floors opened up into bars, their balconies hung with plants and fairy lights. By day it is sleepy. By night, Kadife Sokak, the Velvet Street, becomes one long, loud, happy terrace.

   Most of these houses were once family homes, many of them built for the Greek and Armenian families of nineteenth-century Kadıköy, when the district was a quiet suburb of gardens and wooden mansions. As the city grew and the old families moved on, the houses filled with students and artists, and from the 1990s the bars arrived. Everyone calls it Barlar Sokağı now, Bar Street, and many Istanbulites remember their first concert or first heartbreak here.

   But the deeper tradition behind this street is the meyhane, the Istanbul tavern. A proper meyhane evening is slow. First come the cold meze: white cheese, melon, aubergine purée, fava, pickled fish, little dishes of greens dressed with olive oil. Then the hot ones, perhaps fried calamari or liver, and only later, maybe, a fish. Nobody rushes, and the conversation matters more than the food.

   And the drink is rakı, the anise spirit that turns milky white when you add water, which is why Turks call it lion's milk. The ritual is precise: rakı first, then water, then ice, never the other way round, and a glass of plain water beside it. When glasses meet, the bottoms touch gently, and someone always says şerefe, to honour.

   The old meyhanes were famously mixed places, where Greek, Armenian, Jewish and Turkish neighbours sang the same songs at the same tables, and that memory still hangs in the air. Now head south out of the lane onto Moda Caddesi, where the streets grow leafier and the sea begins to appear between the buildings.

9. 9. Moda Caddesi & the Nostalgic Tram

   Moda Caddesi, Caferağa, 34710 Kadıköy/İstanbul, Türkiye

   Here the city changes its rhythm. The plane trees close overhead, the apartment buildings grow taller and older, with iron balconies and carved doorways, and the people walk a little slower, often with a dog. Welcome to Moda Caddesi, the main street of Moda.

   In the nineteenth century Moda was a green, quiet peninsula of summer houses, and it attracted the Levantines, European families, many of them English, French and Italian, who had lived and traded in the Ottoman Empire for generations. Some of the English families of Moda were great enthusiasts of sport, and football was played in Kadıköy before the end of the century. When Fenerbahçe was founded in 1907, it was born into a district that already knew the game.

   Listen for a bell. A small vintage tram regularly rattles round a loop through Kadıköy and Moda. It is the nostalgic tram, running since 2003, and it is an echo of the real thing: electric trams served the Asian side for decades in the twentieth century, until they were taken off in the 1960s and the buses took over. Locals love it, cyclists curse its rails, and children wave at the driver.

   Moda is also where generations of Istanbulites come for ice cream on summer evenings, and the queues on warm nights can reach round the corner. Turkish dondurma is made with salep, a flour ground from wild orchid roots, which gives it that famous chewy, stretchy texture... so stretchy it can be cut with a knife. The ice cream sellers of the old city used to tease their customers with long metal paddles, a show you may still catch today.

   Look at the façades as you go: dates over the doors, names of old apartment buildings in faded letters, Greek and French and Turkish all mixed together. Then turn right, down towards the cliffs, and follow the smell of brewing tea to the park above the sea.

10. 10. Moda Tea Garden & the Seafront

    Moda Parkı, Ferit Tek Sokak, Caferağa, 34710 Kadıköy/İstanbul, Türkiye

    Find a table at the edge of the tea garden, sit down, and just look. Below you lies the Sea of Marmara; to the right, across the water, the whole skyline of old Istanbul, the domes and minarets of Topkapı, Hagia Sophia and the Blue Mosque lined up like a row of chess pieces. To the left, on a clear day, the Princes' Islands float on the horizon.

    A waiter will bring tea without being asked twice: in a small, tulip-shaped glass, deep red, with two cubes of sugar on the saucer. Turkish tea is brewed in a double teapot, the çaydanlık, strong tea on top and hot water below, so everyone can make it as dark or as light as they like. Most of it is grown on the steep hills of Rize, on the Black Sea coast, where tea plantations spread in the twentieth century.

    And Turks drink a lot of it. Turkey regularly tops the world rankings for tea consumption per person, well ahead of Britain. Tea is offered in shops while you browse, in offices before any meeting, in every barbershop, and here, in tea gardens, where people sit for hours over glass after glass. Nobody will ever hurry you away from a table in a tea garden.

    Watch the people around you: old men playing backgammon, the dice clattering on the board, couples on a first date, students with books they are not reading, families sharing a simit with cheese. This is the Istanbul habit of keyif, a word that does not translate well... the pleasure of doing nothing in particular, slowly, in good company.

    Time it right, and the sun sets behind the old city, turning the domes into black paper silhouettes against an orange sky. When you are ready, follow the path along the clifftop and down the slope towards the water, to the long white pier stretching into the sea.

11. 11. Moda Pier: The 1917 Landing on the Sea of Marmara

    Moda İskelesi, Moda Sahil Yolu, Caferağa, 34710 Kadıköy/İstanbul, Türkiye

    Walk out along the jetty and stop where the pier building stands on its own over the water, its small, pretty pavilion facing the open sea. Waves slap against the pilings, fishermen cast their lines from the rocks, and the old city glows across the bay.

    Moda Pier was built in 1917, in the middle of the First World War, when the Ottoman Empire was fighting for its life and Istanbul was full of soldiers, refugees and shortages. Even so, the city kept building piers, because on this shore the ferry was the lifeline. For the families of Moda, the boat to the other side was how you went to work, to school, to the market or to a wedding.

    Ferries are still the soul of Istanbul. Every day, huge numbers of people cross between Europe and Asia on them, standing at the rail with a glass of tea, feeding simit to the gulls that follow the boats. Even after the Marmaray rail tunnel opened under the Bosphorus in 2013, many Istanbulites still choose the ferry, because twenty minutes on the water can mend a bad day.

    Moda's pier has had quiet years and busy ones, closures and restorations, but it has survived, which is more than can be said for many of the wooden piers and mansions that once lined this coast. Look back at the shore and imagine it a century ago, with wooden summer houses, gardens running down to the sea and rowing boats tied to the rocks.

    So this is where the walk ends: on the water, between two continents, with the taste of lokum, pickles and tea still with you. You started at the ferry pier in ancient Chalcedon, the city of the blind, and you end here looking across at the city they supposedly failed to see. Stay for the sunset... the Chalcedonians had the better view all along.