I am all for summer cookouts. The sizzle of burgers on the grill, the sensation of piping-hot cobbler mixing with freezing vanilla ice cream, the subtle hint of sweet corn in the air – I love it all. This, however, is not a common occurrence in Turkey; in fact, it just doesn’t happen. I will be the first to say that Turkish cuisine is incredible – I could eat Emel and Aisha’s cooking every day until I die, but sometimes the idea of a juicy hamburger is too tempting. The first week, we American students cooked breakfast for our Turkish comrades, and tonight, we made an all-American summer meal, complete with burgers, potato salad, sweet corn, and my favorite, peach cobbler.
When I heard about our barbeque cookout, I immediately volunteered to make cobbler. I’ve made it before, so it would be easy – or so I thought. The first obstacle was that we had to convert all the ingredients to the metric unit, which was simple enough. Next, we needed nutmeg. This task was more difficult to overcome, but Anna came through and returned with freshly ground nutmeg that filled our room with its cozy aroma. Now, for the actual preparation of the cobbler. We quickly realized that the house contains approximately zero measuring devices, so our tablespoons and teaspoons consisted of dashes and splashes that seemed to be about right. For the flour and sugar, we just dumped it in and crossed our fingers. None of us had any clue what we were doing, but we were having fun in the process, so no matter the unpredictable outcome, we considered the process an overall success.
When the peach cobbler went in the oven, it looked pretty gnarly. The batter didn’t spread well, and the peach juices drowned the entire pan in puddles around doughy lumps. Things were started to look pretty bad for us. So, I stuck the cobbler in the oven and walked away, hoping for the best. An hour later, I took out the most gorgeous cobbler I’ve seen. When we ate it at dinner, I’ll admit it had too much flour, but it was otherwise perfect. Never have I been so proud of a peach cobbler; I could have cried.
