Turkish cuisine can often overlap with other countries round the Balkan region (because of the Ottoman Empire); when I went to Greece I certainly saw a lot of that. Again, with the others on my list, for the most part my experience has been in restaurants or takeaways catered to the English taste (because of the holiday resort I go to is catered to English tourists, etc.), though I have tasted proper stuff, and it's amazing.

Their kebabs (sis and doner) are obviously notable because of their fame, but the Turks are also known for their pilav (rice dishes) and borek (pastry dishes). A lot of their dishes are served with separate plates of vegetables; not sure how they're prepared, but aubagines figure a lot (and they're gorgeous), as do tomatoes, onions and peppers - and rice, too. The most recurrent meat dish I've come across is lamb, and it's usually so fine that it's falling off the bone.

Actually, my two culinary highlights in Turkey have been very different from one another; one was ordered in a restaurant at a reasonable time of the evening, the other was an impromptu, home-made dish served at about five o'clock in the morning and shared generously with my sister and I by someone who hardly spoke any English - telling of how food really is a universal bridge between cultures. In fact, I think the two best ways of delving into a culture is via its food and its arts (literature and painting, because those two are often the oldest).

Anyway, back to these two dishes: the first was called "Ottoman Dish for Two" or something. My dad and I ate it: it was served on a wooden stake, symmetrical, with two sides, with various meats, peppers, chillis and rice; Turkish bread (divine) and, to share between us, sitting above a little flame, was a casserole of some sort. I was ignorant of specifics at the time, and I still don't know exact ingredients or preparations, but my memory has not subdued the taste one bit.

The second, served that morning in half-darkness as dawn was just breaking and you could hear the crickets chirping their relentless chirp, was in fact a Kurdish dish, so shouldn't really count (though I imagine what goes as "Turkish" in most tourist places actually borrows from the remnants of its own empire). It was served in a large, flattish pan. It was a mixture of bread and egg cooked together, with peppers and tomatoes in. It was astonishing. My sister and I were like polite vultures; you've got to eat these things with your hands, or else it's no good. You've got to tear at it like a barbarian, pulling bits off and folding them up (because the texture crumbles, because it can get messy). I remember the guy just smiling and saying, "Good, good", chuckling with pleasure at my own pleasure, a result of his culinary skill and social generosity.

On top of that, one of the most refreshing drinks you can ever have is Turkish tea. And one of the nicest desserts I've ever had is baklava - divine in itself, but eat with two lumps of gleaming white ice cream and you'll just about ejaculate.

I also have a taste for Efes, the local beer.