My criteria for choosing food at the Turkish Days Street Fest was simple: If it was doused in honey and filled with nuts, I ordered one.
Paul was in Ohio when I visited the block-long festival near Times Square on Sunday, and it's not often that I can stuff myself with nut-filled pastries and not worry about killing my allergic husband with a kiss.
I know I got at least two kinds of baklava, but I'm honestly not sure exactly what all I ordered. I just started pointing. In any case, it might have been the best $4 I've ever spent.
Although I went to the festival primarily for the desserts, I couldn't resist trying gozleme. One food stall described it as a Turkish crepe. As I ordered a spinach gozleme, I watched a couple of women rolling out thin layers of dough, which were later filled and cooked on a griddle. Very buttery, very salty and very delicious.
As I was eating, I watched a ritual religious dance that seemed to involve twirling around in circles for several minutes, stopping for maybe 30 seconds and repeating. And then repeating a few more times.
The gozleme was good. The dancing was interesting. But opening that cheap plastic container and getting the first whiff of honey-soaked pastries? That's the reason I went.
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