Once you've found the place, take a seat and browse the menu. They seem to have gone a bit more upmarket since I was last there (hence the scribbled and updated prices). Even the owner has shaved off his moustache, thus dragging himself into the 21st century (unaware that moustaches kinda came back in fashion with Earl).
Now a soup joint is kinda like a kebab shop in the UK. It's a place where piss-heads go to end their night. A little sustenance to sober them up enough to fool the copper that pulls them over for driving down the promenade naked.
Things can get a little lively at times and the owner has been known to reach for his baseball bat to calm a dispute. But, if you ask me, it's got to be the best soup and pide in town. I honestly recommend it.
So what kind of soup gets a Turk salivating after a heavy night on the Raki? Take a look at the menu below. It starts fine but swiftly goes very wrong. If this doesn't sober you up, not much will...
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