Red Lentil Patties

What happens when I go to the countryside these days? Not much. I switch on the autopilot mode and get plenty of sleep, eat, play with the dogs, read, hang out, occasionally set up a table for a meal, wash up afterwards and generally act a visiting relative rather a tiresome member of my family undertaking various garden and kitchen projects under the fearless leadership of my mother-in-law. I migrate into the autopilot mode naturally as I find myself at a safe place where unconditional love and good food are awaiting for me.

For the long time such place was my parents’ house where I used to come for a short break from my studies abroad or work in Moscow: I would sleep a lot and I would even get slightly sick as my whole body would refuse to work as normal. I would not get anything done and have zero aspiration to accomplish anything. But then I would know that autopilot has its expiry date and as that date would come I get back to my “normal” mode of being a go-getter bursting with energy as most people know me.

I used to feel bad about these spells of slack until I realized that we all function this way, and if we don’t we are going against our own nature. See somebody twitting 5 messages/hour (infamous mayor of Ankara, maybe)? Either the messages are scheduled in bulk to create the impression of online omnipresence (and make people like me feel guilty about my Twitter silence), or the person is close to the physical and emotional breakdown because they don’t get enough of the slack.

There is sufficient research pointing to the importance of time to recharge for the productivity. It’s no secret that working long hours does not mean that a multiple-hour-worth output is created. Because in an average day of work there are a few hours of high-productivity and the rest is a combination of roaming and undisguised procrastination. Does not matter, which form you choose: picking your nose or obsessively checking your Twitter (the evil of the modern days, as rightfully pointed by the Turkish PM). So why not to recognize that roaming and allocate some time to roam.. till you get somewhere.

At the countryside I give myself a full license to procrastinate: procrastinate till you can’t stand it anymore! And, you know, that works. After a long sleep and leisurely hanging out around my husband I would have the spike of productivity right after: I would take just 2 hours to write a full post, select and edit its photos - an activity that often takes me a whole day to accomplish. You can think I have wasted half a day, or you can think that I have accomplished a day-worth work plus had a good rest and time with my husband.

I wonder why it doesn’t happen in Istanbul. I guess the autopilot is easier to practice on the countryside amidst the pine trees and singing birds on the hill overlooking the big lake and the nearby towns where nothing seems too significant. Protests, a major source of anxiety over the past 3 weeks, in Istanbul? Instead of following the news I comb the dogs - especially Kizim - that shed their hair in the amounts that would be enough to knit a pair of socks (have you heard about the dog hair knitting?). Cars passing by the window every minute and neighbors exchanging the recent gossip from their balconies in Moda? Instead of that urban fuss there is sound of the leaves caressed by the wind or jokes we exchange when eating lunch under the walnut tree.

Lunch.. On my latest stay in Sapanca I again immensely enjoyed my mother-in-law’s food. Her first-rate fırında sütlaç, a classic Turkish rice pudding. Her bulgur pilaf. Her stuffed zucchini flowers. I hardly cook at the countryside these days as my mother-in-law turns a new meal daily, which is particularly impressive given she is working in the garden nonstop (secret of her enormous productivity? afternoon naps). A few days week of classic Turkish affair makes me a grateful eater again. And when I go back to Istanbul I become an enthusiastic cook that starts work on the recipes of the dishes I ate at my mother-in-law’s house and play with them to my liking.

One of those dishes that I was reminded of last week was mercimek köftesi, lentils patties, to understand which you need to understand the Turkish tendency to label many savory foodstuffs that are shaped by hand as ‘köfte”, originally “meatball”. Çiğ köfte, lentil köfte, fish köfte and so on. The mercimek köfte is a relative of kısır, bulgur patties, as it does include bulgur accompanied by the vegetables and herbs but there are significant differences. Addition of red lentils calls for the “lentil” spices, and cumin, coriander and black pepper are happy to oblige. Also, the crunch and bite of the onion and green pepper do not stand out because the vegetables are cooked before being tossed in the mix. My mother-in-law serves this tender köfte as a starter, and I turn it into a full-fledged balanced meal: I just arrange a few lentil patties on a thin lavaş bread and dress with the thick yogurt mixed with purslane and laced with the sweet red pepper flakes.