
The hippest street in Istanbul isn’t İstiklal Caddesi, no matter what your guidebook says. Unless you’re in the market for a Swatch, or you’re really craving a bucket of wings from Kentucky Fried Chicken, don’t plan on spending much time on Beyoğlu’s main thoroughfare. Instead, stroll along until you reach Yeni Çarşi Caddesi. Here’s how to enjoy yourself.

Pause and look straight out: you’re standing at the top of a steep street, with views of Topkapı Palace. Then look down. Combat vertigo using deep breathing. Notice the women in chador passing spiky aerosol tags or fumbling for car keys in fanny packs hidden beneath the fabric’s folds. This section of Beyoğlu is known as Galatasaray.
Numbers go down the entire side of the street, then up the other. Munferit (No. 19) offers an updated take on the classic meyhane (a bistro-like restaurant serving meze and raki, lots and lots of raki, the beloved Turkish beverage that tastes like an Altoid dissolved in cough syrup). On your right, at Malena (No. 88), you can take a yoga, Pilates, or “oryantal” dance class. Lazy Boutique (No. 9A), unmissable for its red-and-yellow facade in the shape of a television, sells an intense selection of locally made shoes. Look out for clever stickers and laptop-sized stencils, if you’re into street art.
Istanbul’s 212 area code isn’t the only echo of New York: as in Manhattan’s Lower East Side and Brooklyn’s Williamsburg, the influx of alcohol–drinking, miniskirt–wearing young people has bothered some of the area’s more orthodox residents. The tensions along Yeni Çarşı Caddesi mirror the tensions in the city as a whole, where the more liberal, secular European side often conflicts with the more conservative, religious Asian side. Tattoo parlors, skate shops, and even a store specializing in comic books (GON, No. 34) cater to a demographic that doesn’t (yet) live in the neighborhood.
Dog-leg to your right, to Garajistanbul (Tomtom Mahallesi Yeni Çarşı Caddesi, Kaymakam Reşat Bey Sk. No. 11A), a performing arts space that puts on plays, readings, dances, and exhibitions in a former parking garage.
Back on Yeni Çarşı Caddesi, try Dai Pera (No. 54), which uses seasonal, fresh ingredients to deconstruct or, in some cases, improve upon traditional Turkish home cooking like manti (ravioli). Try the tavuk ograten, a savory slab of chicken, cheese, and peas. Try not to spill any on the lace tablecloth, just like the kind great-grandma used to stitch.
Have a drink at Zoe (No. 38), a lounge/restaurant decked in black, and another at Tezgah (No. 20A), a teahouse and used bookshop. Above you are offices for SuaFilm and AnaFilm, so sip glamorously, if possible.
Dog-leg to your left, down Hayriye Caddesi. Rest assured that any shapes moving through the ivy-covered wall are cats, Istanbul’s most famous non-tax-paying residents. They are everywhere, and they’ll pretty much love you forever if you bend down and give them a scratch. Walk past Buka (No. 18A), a custom atelier whose stock changes rapidly, and onto Galeri Apel (No. 5A), a brick-lined two-floor space featuring sculpture and painting.
Double back, or continue on Hayriye Caddesi until it loops back to Yeni Çarşı Caddesi via Bostanbaşı Caddesi. Either way, you won’t be on Yeni Çarşı Caddesi for long, because it becomes Boğazkesen Caddesi. Roughly at this point you’ll enter the section of Beyoğlu known as Tophane. One street, two names, two neighborhoods — such transitions happen frequently and seamlessly in these parts.
Poke your head into some of the city’s most provocative galleries, including Pi Artworks (No. 7A), Elipsis (No. 45D), Daire (No. 65D), and Non (No. 27A). Buy a simit, a ring of bread twisted and covered in sesame seeds, as if a pretzel and bagel procreated, at the decidedly old-school Tarihi Bogazkesen Simit Fırını (No. 65A).
Enter the hulking building at the end of the street. Once a munitions factory and armory, the Tophane-i Amire Cultural Center now hosts a rotating selection of contemporary art, mostly large-scale installations. (Beginning in the 15th century, Tophane served as center of the Ottoman Empire’s military-industrial complex.) Across the street is Ismail Usta (No. 15, literally “Master Ismail”), serving “lahmacun” — spicy minced meat and greens spread on dough, baked, and rolled. Yup, it’s Turkish pizza.
At the bottom of the hill, you have two choices. Cross busy Meclis-i Mebusan Caddesi and go left, past Nusretiye Camii (also known as the Tophane Mosque) to the Istanbul Modern, a contemporary art museum housed in a former shipping terminal. (Check out its terrace, with most excellent views of the Bosphorus and the minarets of Eminönü beyond.) Or go right, deeper into the neighborhood known as Karaköy, in search of Güllüoglu (Rıhtım Caddesi, Katli Otopark Alti 3–4). The myriad sweets at this restaurant are baked daily down the street in the eponymous baklava factory — at 7,000 square feet, the largest in the world. Try the şöbiyet (puffy, light, and filled with ground pistachios and cream) and sade (“plain,” we stopped counting layers at number 30).






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