Kadıköy Market is a dense grid of food shops in the lanes behind the ferry pier on the Asian shore, and it is where Istanbul actually shops for dinner. You wander in on Güneşlibahçe Sokak past crates of silver fish on ice and barrels of olives, and the air turns to brine, roasting coffee and ripe fruit. Fishmongers, cheesemongers, spice sellers, pickle shops and delicatessens press wall to wall. Vendors call out prices and cats weave between the stalls.
Locals call the whole tangle the çarşı, and it grew shop by shop over more than a century; there is no roof and no grand gate. Tucked among the counters are two institutions: Çiya, where a chef spent decades reviving forgotten Anatolian recipes, and Baylan, the last surviving counter of a patisserie family founded in the 1920s. The pickle shops explain the faint smell of vinegar that follows you around. The lanes are busiest at midday and stay alive until the shutters roll down.