I have spent two weeks in Istanbul, and the verdict is in: My hometown is an accessible city, offering a wide range of options for vegans due to its vast selection of olive oil-based vegetable dishes. Still commemorating the green pea-stuffed artichokes I had at Prasini Papia, Gayrettepe; celeriac stew at Güney, Galata; cibes (chickweed) at Asmalı Cavit, Asmalı; thyme salad at Çiya, Kadıköy; warm sautéed pickles at Hayvore, Galatasaray; and stuffed vine leaves 'Sarma' with sour cherry at Galata Kitchen, Tatar Beyi Street.

But as a somewhat spoiled vegan living in London, where I can have Thai, Korean, Mexican, Vietnamese, or even fusion dishes like Korean-Mexican, Jerk-Turkish, and Japanese-Laotian, I believe İstanbul still needs more alternatives to falafels, walnut-drenched salads, and café bowls. There’s a need for more creative thinking in vegan dish making and a focus on tofu, vegetable treatment, and various pulses, while relying less on substitutes when it comes to healthy fast food. So, until then, besides my preferred vegan spots I’ll continue to explore and share in future issues, I’ll stick to Turkish beauties such as kısır, lentil balls, sarma, and Aegean greens like purslane, dandelion greens, mallow, cress, chickweed, and samphire, sprinkled with lemon juice and salt.

You can find my list of the 12 Best Vegan Spots in Istanbul on my article in Dig In İstanbul. See you at Telezzüz in Istanbul Journals, Part III.

Here’s a sneak peek at our thirteenth issue before you dive in:

The Place: The vegan boulangerie Parisians thought impossible exists. Meet: Vacilando.
The News: 12 Vegan Places in İstanbul to dig in.
The Plate: Dolma, aka stuffed chard leaves, served on cashew yogurt and topped with microgreens.

If you’re just joining us, here’s a link to our previous issues. Send me your questions about veganism at [email protected] so I can research, dig deeper, and come up with some mind-opening thoughts.

Hazal

The Vegan Boulangerie Parisians Thought Impossible Exists. Meet: Vacilando.

Words by: Hazal Yılmaz

If you live in one of the most crowded districts of a bustling metropolis like Istanbul, a walk as essential as a trip to the grocery store turns into a form of passive resistance in the middle of a battlefield, trying to escape the camera screens of those taking souvenir photos with Galata Tower in the background. Brides and grooms, influencers/YouTubers, San Sebastian cheesecake plates, tourist groups posing with Dubai chocolates, and marriage proposals with fireworks all add to the chaos. The only way to navigate this is to keep your head down, push through the crowd without worrying about which screen you might end up on, and walk forward with confident, unwavering steps. Those who have found themselves in Galata Square during peak hours, approximately two hours after sunrise and four hours before sunset, know what a struggle it is to reach Serdar-ı Ekrem.

Now that you’ve finally arrived at the street, as you try to carve a path against the human tide and feel like giving up, the road suddenly slopes downward to the right, offering a breath of relief. You pass by Emi, one of the relatively newer coffee shops in the neighborhood, deciding to postpone your visit to an earlier morning. Continuing downhill, you take the second left and arrive at Dibek Street. The notes of John Coltrane or Miles Davis drifting through the air announce that you've made it to your final destination: Vacilando. This Spanish word, which Steinbeck described as an experience where the journey itself is more valuable than the destination, perfectly encapsulates every visit here, where I find myself torn between which road to take: sweet or savory, galette or pie, brownie, quiche, or tartine. The building, once a haven for an underground theater group and later the headquarters for Istanbul’s first co-working space, Blogger’s Base, is now a neighborhood bakery that defies the Parisian pastry chefs who once shook their heads and said, “Non,” when I asked for vegan options. Here, everything is possible: melting cheese toasts, fluffy grandmother cakes, crusty tomato galettes.

As I slide open the door, the freshly baked orange and almond cake and Özge, in the middle of her sixteen-hour workday, greet me in the open kitchen. She points to the galette atthe counter, saying it’s just out of the oven and gluten-free. I ask if it's made with buckwheat. It’s a blend of oats, rice, potato starch, and corn flour, served with a salad of pickled kohlrabi, she says. Six minutes later, at a table on display from her mother’s shop at Horhor, I sit before a half-eaten leek galette and listen to Özge’s story. My stomach is content.

“My father is a fisherman. A fish import-exporter. Growing up, our home was the epicenter of all kinds of surplus fish and seafood. I used to tie strings around lobsters' necks and walk them around the garden—imagine a clueless circus. When I was eleven, I was sent to Italy for summer school. Before that, we had dinner in Milan with my father’s business partner. A slab of raw, bloody meat, cooked the ‘proper’ way according to them, was placed in front of me. It was called filet mignon. The moment I saw it, I made my decision: I wouldn’t eat it. That summer, out of my own free will, I stopped eating animals for two months. But returning home meant returning to its food culture and traditions. I didn’t quit meat entirely then. It took years, facing patriarchal structures, witnessing men metaphorically devouring one another, enduring accepted political systems and workplace harassment. I had to wait until I was twenty-six to rebel.”

Hazal - Did you become vegan to avoid eating, cooking, and consuming meat, or did you start cooking because you became vegan? Or did you simply enter the kitchen to replace what you stopped eating?

Özge - “I studied performing arts management. I worked at the Istanbul and Venice Biennales. Then, I went to New York to study acting, came back, earned a master’s degree, and performed in city theaters. When regulations changed, I realized I didn’t want to continue this profession under authority. I sought a job where I could communicate beyond a single language, something I could do anywhere in the world. That’s how I discovered the kitchen. I enrolled in MSA Cooking Academy, and during my internship at the Swiss Hotel, my French chef influenced my growing interest in pastries. Turkish desserts are too sugary. The Italian cuisine I was familiar with has a vast dessert culture, but everything is made simply with high-quality ingredients. I think that’s why I gravitated toward the more technical, almost laboratory-like approach of French patisserie. In 2014, I opened my first shop in Arnavutköy. That was my school. Back then, neither I nor the shop was vegan. We were a neighborhood bakery offering good coffee and sweet and savory options. In 2020, just as the pandemic hit, I moved my home and business to Galata, and since I had already been eating vegan for a few years, the kitchen naturally evolved with me.”

That’s when I first met Vacilando, searching for wholesome, tasty food as a vegan in Galata. At the time, there were only a few vegan options, but they were good.

"Vegan cooking is a laboratory. You can’t substitute soy for ground meat in the same ratio; you need to learn, diversify, and experiment with spices and methods. I cook what I want to eat at home, here. Since I’m primarily a vegan consumer, I keep learning. It is essential for the producer to also be a consumer. We don’t use packaged products. Either we make it ourselves, or if a small producer does it better, we source from them—whether it’s tofu, pickles, flour, milk, or cheese. We use heirloom wheat. Our flour is Karakılçık, a variety grown only in Turkey and milled in Bursa. Our priority is working with pesticide-free, sustainable farmers. Many customers ask for sandwich and salad recipes, but we tell them it’s not possible because they’d have to start by making apricot mustard and wild blueberry vinegar the way we do here. The sauces, and dressings also change with seasonal ingredients."

The place fills up. At the tables, I hear Portuguese, Italian, and Korean. I wonder who Vacilando’s customers are.

“ Many people dine here without realizing the food is vegan. I’m not sure who the customer are, but we strive to be inclusive—not just for vegans, vegetarians, carnivores, or herbivores, but for all. What stands out most are European tourists and young hijabi women exploring veganism. I try to introduce veganism and its ideas through taste and conversation. At Vacilando, you’ll see a group of hijabi women at one table, a trans community at another, and a former ambassador and his wife at a third. That togetherness is the essence of this place."

Before leaving, I ask one last question: Is veganism expensive, or is life in general in Istanbul?

“Everything is expensive in this city, not just vegan products. Are we more expensive than our neighbours? I don’t know. But I can explain the breakdown. We bake our own bread, mill our own flour, import almonds from Adıyaman, and sometimes source specialty items from Europe. Our cheese contains cashews, almonds, tapioca, and agar agar. Using modified ingredients lowers costs, but I won’t put anything I wouldn’t eat myself. There are also unforeseen costs. For example, vegan cleaning products. For example, insurance. It’s essential that everyone working here, whether for four months or four years, has insurance and compensation, so that when they leave, they understand their rights and learn to demand them in the future."

I’m thinking about values and costs as the leftovers on my plate are placed into cardboard boxes. That too has a cost—the cardboard box. And so does living in Galata. A week later, Özge texts me: 'We made marble cake, come over.' In a heartbeat, I find myself on Dibek Street, at Vacilando, where Billie Holiday is playing. Being a part of this neighborhood, in spite of its turbulence, has its merit too.

A must-have: In the morning, try the lemon, almond, orange, or any kind of cake. At lunch, enjoy the galette or toast with the salad.

My favorite: Water kefir.

Word of mouth: If you’re having a party, a wedding, or just a gathering, you can have Vacilando’s pop-up kitchen come to your home. 

Word of mouth II: Özge’s mother has a shop called Antikane in the Antique Dealers' Bazaar in Horhor. The shop also serves as her showroom, where items are continually sold, and as they are sold, the decor evolves.

Hours: Vacilando is closed on Wednesdays; open 9:00 AM - 7:30 PM on weekdays, and 10:00 AM - 7:30 PM on weekends.

Address: Hacımimi Mah. Dibek Sk. 17/A Galata, Istanbul

PULSE CHECK

I have recently found inspiration from: Dr. A. Brezze Harper.

After living many years in my omnivore body and mind, I have just discovered veganism is the best way to defend myself against patriarchy. 

The product I cannot live without: Ancient / non-gmo’s grains.

The latest news from the vegan world: In my little vegan world, I am currently thinking and working on the transformation of ecofeminism.

A vegan adjacent spot i like to go with my non-vegan friends: Ziba. 

The podcast that made me vegan: Açık Radyo, Türlerin Yaşam Hakkı 

I’m vegan but I wouldn't waste food that was contaminated by an honest mistake.

A fellow vegan must meet Carol J. Adams 

My favorite vegan city/neighbourhood: The only city I have experienced veganism, other than Istanbul, is Los Angeles, or Pasadena to be more specific. I have had the chance to try many eye-opening tastings and learned what excites my palate. 

A daily habit, a routine that contributes to the world that we call home: Among many other things the most satisfying one is to feed the non-human animals in my neighbourhood.

Dig Into İstanbul’s vegan hubs

Being in Istanbul means chasing aromas drifting through the streets — coffee roasting on sand, molasses-coated simit taken straight from a wood-fired oven, and cumin rising from salads made on the spot. In summer, the scent of freshly cut watermelon takes over, while winter brings the smoke of grilled chestnuts and the cinnamony aroma of boza, the beloved fermented drink. While Istanbul is often seen as a kebap capital, we place our faith in the hometown. If you’re a vegan who shares an enthusiasm for scrumptious food, we know a place, or perhaps many, that won’t let you down. And luckily for you, we've written them down for Dig In Istanbul.

Here is the link to the 12 Best Vegan Places in İstanbul.