The market starts before the city wakes. Crates of citrus stack into little suns and the air smells like anise and salt. A woman in a bright scarf offers a taste of kumquat jam and laughs when I try to pronounce the name.
The breakfast loop
We begin with simit, toasted and still soft in the center. A tea glass follows, held by the thin rim so it cools quickly. Every corner is a small lesson in pacing. The best stalls do not hurry you.
What to carry home
- Dried figs and walnuts for the train ride
- A small packet of isott pepper
- The habit of asking for the season's first batch
The market closes at noon, but the smells follow you back to the sea.
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