What specialty dishes are on the Turkish table?

In the Christian New Testament, Jesus says: "But I tell you that anyone who looks at a woman lustfully has already committed adultery with her in his heart." (Matthew 5:28)
And the Islamic Quran admonishes that between men and women, do not look at what is improper, and cover the shameful parts, to protect one's own chastity.
The eyes can commit adultery too. So as not to disturb a man's mind, women, hide your beauty and charm!
In different Islamic countries, views on women's clothing and attire each have their own expression and their own convictions. And between different sects, opinions are even more divided.
Some Islamic theologians declare that veiling is merely a custom, not a religious rule at all, and encourage women to show their true faces; some governments establish religious police, who like pickets crack down on women who do not cover their faces and heads.
But generally speaking, when attending prayers at the mosque, women's clothing absolutely includes a headscarf covering the hair, ears and neck, while in daily life, the degree to which one covers one's body often reflects religious devotion, loyalty to family, and willingness to interact with the outside world.
Walking the streets of Istanbul, I admire how headscarves of all kinds of patterns are integrated into outfits, with a touch of the flair of modern dancer Isadora Duncan, elegant and flowing.
As long as the hair is not shown, a woman's love of beauty is the same the world over; makeup and headscarves are often in the same color tone, incredibly fashionable, and Turkish women have refined, three-dimensional features; although the headscarf covers the hair and neck, it emphasizes the beautiful face even more.

Turkish women's attitudes toward headscarves and veils are the most open of all Islamic countries. Among a group of sisters out shopping, some wear hot pants and short skirts, while others tightly cover their hair, and they still chat and laugh together just the same.
But the black veiled long robe internationally known as the Niqab is the most extreme form of the local custom of covering the head.
First is a floor-length black robe that covers the tops of the shoes, with long sleeves down to the wrists, and more particular women will also put on black gloves.
Then a black hood covers the top of the head, with the back of the hood extending down to the lower back, the front of the hood covering down to between the eyebrows and eyes, and additionally a black veil reaching to the chest is worn to cover the face.
From the outside one only sees eyelashes blinking in the narrow eye slit, black as a crow from head to toe, completely without a single gap.
Add a pair of black sunglasses, and the degree of concealment rivals the notorious burqa in "A Thousand Splendid Suns" and "The Kite Runner."
The first time I saw a Turkish woman wearing a niqab, I was greatly shocked, and a silly question kept circling in my mind.
"They cover their faces, so how do they eat?"
"Do they only eat at home?"
"Then if they are outside and get hungry, what do they do?"

I told B about the lovely sight I had just seen in the women's restroom, and he was extraordinarily envious, almost lost in reverie: "People often say that women wrapped in veils and headscarves restrain the vanity of showing off their appearance, like a pearl in an oyster shell, precious and crystalline, whose beauty outsiders cannot see."
I bluntly interrupted B's musings and asked: "All niqabs look exactly the same, so how do you recognize your companions on the street? Everything is covered! How do you know who is who?"
B answered while eating: "By the bags, of course. Actually, those few are tourists from the Middle East, you know? All the designer bags in Istanbul have been bought out by them."
Before he finished speaking, he laughed again: "As long as you know who the man beside her is, you can know who is under the niqab. After all, without a man accompanying them, they usually do not go out. Still, Turkish women who wear the niqab are a minority."
I let out a breath: "Good, otherwise wearing that in the heat of summer would really be too pitiful."
B, having nothing better to do, swallowed a mouthful of eggplant stewed with lamb and began to argue with me: "You are not a fish, how do you know the joy of fish? How sad?"

Having traveled for many years, I am long used to this kind of cultural and religious debate. B's ancestors migrated from Central Asia to West Asia, riding and shooting, herding, with the wind blowing the grass low to reveal cattle and sheep, and they delighted in meat at every meal. To this descendant of nomads, the vegetarian tradition of Han Chinese Buddhism in Taiwan must be utterly incomprehensible.
And according to his Islamic rules, if I put on the table the pig trotter vermicelli that Taiwanese people use for birthday celebrations and to dispel bad luck, fragrant and steaming hot, it would absolutely make his face turn blue, his stomach convulse, and send him fleeing from his knife and fork.
Your fine wine may be my poison; so it is with food, and so it is with clothing.
B said: "Save your pity. I have quite a few female friends; there are plenty of cases where the older sister covers her head and the younger sister does not. These ladies always have the freedom to wear whatever they want, right?"
"Freedom begins within the heart and ends before it infringes on the freedom of others." B, who a moment ago wished he too had been in the women's restroom to see the true face of the niqab beauty, now spoke with righteous confidence: "If what they love to wear does not infringe on your freedom, then why can you not respect their freedom?"

I was speechless for a moment, knowing full well that personal clothing is part of freedom of expression and can be called an extension of freedom of speech. In Europe and America, whether Islamic immigrant women can wear headscarves and veils to school or at work, and whether public authority should intervene, have for years sparked enormous controversy, with endless argument and impassioned debate, all over a mere piece of cloth that covers the head and face.
When the government softens its stance, headscarves and veils become legal, yet no one can swallow the old patriarchal notion that "a woman's body is like a piece of fatty meat that must be covered in front of greedy cats."
When the government hardens its stance and bans headscarves and face veils, it is accused of persecuting personal freedom, and it also cuts off the path to education for young women from conservative families.
When the two cornerstones of modern Western mainstream values, women's liberation and personal freedom, lock horns, using one's spear against one's shield, there is simply no solution.
But knowing is one thing; when I watch the tightly covered "niqabs" roaming the streets, I still feel a little sad inside.

But who am I, and what qualifies me? By what right do I feel sad over a religious custom I do not much understand?
Perhaps they simply must dress like Japanese ninjas walking at night, or else they feel out of sorts.
Perhaps the moment they put on the niqab, they feel comfortable in body and mind, their heads glowing, with Allah.
Perhaps they see with the heart, not the eyes, and from the narrow eye slit, the world they see may be broader than mine.
If whether or not to wear something is entirely their personal choice, and they also know all the consequences, then why is my feeling toward the niqab one of subconscious rejection?

After much thought, I concluded that it is because when a niqab stands before me, I feel this is not a person, but an object, a thing.
According to the research of American psychology expert Dr. Paul EkmanEkman's research was even adapted by Fox into the television series LIE TO ME.
To this day, after a newborn baby comes into the world, in any environment, its gaze will still track faces, interpret the facial expressions of caregivers, and slowly build connections with the outside world.
Even after growing into adulthood, this primitive instinct of unconsciously tracking faces with the gaze has been used in car design; designers at major automakers vie to bring out cars whose front ends look more and more like faces, so as to attract pedestrians' gaze when driving on the road.
Interaction between people is built on interpreting each other's expressions; from one another's unconscious facial and bodily movements, the information obtained is often far more than from spoken words.
But the niqab has no expression, no face, no movement, no sound. It is meant precisely to cut off all external interaction, to conceal a woman's self-image and identity recognition, leaving only a dark floor-length black robe.
Perhaps this is the underlying reason why I, an outsider, can accept head covering but have no fondness at all for face covering.
"You cover your face, I cannot recognize who you are, and I cannot see the joy, anger, sorrow and happiness on your face, so I simply do not know how to react."
What kind of interaction is that, anyway? This feeling is worse than calling customer service and getting a robotic voice in reply.
But I guess how the outside world perceives them is absolutely not within their consideration.
After all, there is nothing more important in the world than eating, and for the sake of undisturbed peace and quiet, even eating with a covered face in public is no challenge to them at all!