In Istanbul, down by the Bosphorus, the fishermen unload their catches early every morning. While there, we’d go down under the famous bridge and watch them unload and fill their stalls. It was a sight out of a movie or a fantasy. I couldn’t believe I was there.

The fish were swimming and alive just a short time before caught and brought to shore. As the fishermen unloaded their catch, they allowed us to pick a few. I chose three beautiful anchovies. Not the pickled depressing ones we know in America, but fresh and full.

A young man at one of the booths cooked them in a large heated chrome pan. He’d drop the anchovies whole into the pans, seasoned only slightly, and lightly pan fried them. Then I took each one before it cooled too much and ate it whole-head and tail included. I assure you that my wife did not join me.

As a germaphobe, I examined the area and cooking utensils. I found them very clean and well cared for.

The fish stall vendors lined up and filled their fresh inventory in an attractive appearance to their customers. I stayed there as long as I could before moving on. If you go to Istanbul, you can’t miss this place.

The anchovies were some of the freshest fish I ever ate. Maybe the third best dish I’ve ever put in my mouth. You should try it.