Istanbul

My fave cheap chow place in Korea is a Kebab shop called Istanbul that’s a 6 minute walk from my domicile. Its one of those places that has a hard core fan base that like showing up minutes before closing time so they can drink booze and maybe munch on some French fries as they talk to the hip and happening Aussie owner of the place, Nev.

Nev isn’t a big guy but comes across as having a large presence do to his shaved head, deep voice, and tattoo exposed muscular arms. It’s the cheapest, fastest, and best food along a strip of burgers, tacos, pizza, and Thai joints near Noksapyeong station. I can normally expect a 2-3 minute way for my Kebab as opposed to the pizza/sub shop down the street which has an average waiting time of 20 minutes.

But a word to the wise on how to ensure fast service at Istanbul, never show up before Nev. If you show up at noon there’s a chance you may be waiting a while for Nev to show up and prepare the meat rack spinners. This has happened to me twice, both times on Sunday at noon. Both times I had to wait 30 minutes, but being a leisurely Sunday I never really cared.

Today I went over to Istanbul and when I arrived, Nev was MIA and I prepared myself for the long wait as we sat next to a Korean American man and four Korean American boys who seemed to be touring Seoul together. They had no doubt already ordered their food unaware that the man who was meant to make their food had not yet arrived.

The Korean waitress kept ensuring the customers that Nev would be there in 5 minutes, and sure enough, 10 minutes after Monica and I had ordered our food Nev stepped in out of the cold looking a little weary starting the last day of his work week (Istanbul is closed Mondays).

As we waited for our food an almost stereotypically obnoxious American came in and ordered after us and proceeded to conduct business very loudly on his cell phone and by conduct business I mean talk with his friends about how he just got fired from his job for performing inadequately and he held his workplace accountable for stabbing him in the back for expecting him to grade the students and give them tests.

The whole place was nearly held hostage by this one sided phone conversation and everyone in Istanbul was quickly able to determine that this patron was first and foremost a jackass and who was secondly rightly fired. If he were living in any other country in the world he would have been fired long ago.

Although I ordered my food before this unemployed sack I was happy when Nev tossed him a to go bag out of turn and the bastard finally waddled out the door still shrieking in his phone.

At this point in time Nev served up the Korean Americans who were grateful to finally chomp down on some food. The boys were happy to be served, but the man betrayed his feelings of being malcontented with an irked sideways glance to the waitress scurrying away.

When it came time to pay the bill, the man caught a hold of Nev walking across the store and said, “What’s with the fifty minute wait?”

Nev turned with a confused look and with the most retarded expression he could conjure up declared, “Me no speaky Enrishee”

“Don’t give me that, I heard you speaking English earlier. Hangeul mal Hahseyo? I can speak both. What’s your pick?”

“Listen. Ok. This is my shop and all I care about is the quality of the food, now your not going to get better food at 5000 won a meal in all of Seoul”

“I’m not complaining about the food. I’m complaining about the wait. The food was good. I liked the food. I sat here wait-“

“Where are you from? You’re North American?’

“I’m from here. I’m from Korea.”

“Yeah. You’re North American. I’m Australian and I care about serving a high quality product. You want to complain, write out a complaint on the Internet, it’s a beautiful thing; you can speak to 6 billion people about how dissatisfied you were with the wait.”

Nev walked into the back and brought out a piece of paper and handed it to the man. Nev continued, “Here’s a food site that discusses places to eat in Korea. Reach your audience directly.”

“Yeah, thanks, and it remains an impersonal incident in a mix of other nonsensical anonymous comments. There are no real connections. Nothing gets solved. It’s griping for griping sakes. I’m talking to you right now. You have no comments about the 50 minute wait?”

“Good luck to you.”

Nev turned on his blinders and methodically walked back into the kitchen as the man paid the waitress. The man was smiling. He enjoyed there little back and forth. He was amused by Nev’s unwillingness to relent any wrongdoing, any hint of an apology. He was impressed how Nev used the conflict to express his pride in the food that was served. He didn’t know that he would get nowhere arguing with Nev before the scene unfolded, and now that it was over he was still happy for the moment.

Monica and I walked out of Istanbul laughing at the whole scene. We wondered how does Nev feel about North Americans; dealing with them all day and arriving at this conclusion that we whine and complain and want things now rather than good.

Monica then recalled a conversation we had about the Matrix earlier in the week, she said, “So the Matrix was really filmed in Australia?”

“Yep. That’s what I heard.”

“And it took them twice as long to make the movie compared to what an American studio would have pumped out, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“Good movie though.”

“Yeah, if you don’t mind the wait.”



Istanbul is a 5 minute walk from Noksapyeong station, Exit 2. It is open Tuesday through Sunday. Closes sometime around 10pmish and opens sometime around noonish.