Not what is in the cupboard. What you feel like.
Pick more than one if you like. Every result says what it was matched on: the taste model is an estimate, the time is the number the recipe itself states, and the weight is energy computed from the ingredient list.
Tarhana soup
A yoghurt-and-vegetable mixture fermented through a summer, dried and powdered. Ten minutes to a soup — at the end of a year’s work.
Prawn casserole
The prawns go in for the last four minutes. Cooked with the sauce from the start they turn to rubber, and there is no way back.
Roasted cauliflower
Boiled, cauliflower’s sulphur smell goes into the water; roasted, the same compounds turn into a toasted flavour.
Sautéed mushrooms
Mushrooms are wiped, not washed. And the salt goes in last: early salt draws their water out and makes browning impossible.
Crushed potatoes with yoghurt
Boil, crush, roast. A rough surface means more crust.
Tripe soup
Three hours of simmering and a liaison. What decides the smell is not the recipe but how well the tripe was cleaned.
Garlic-sautéed broccoli
The broccoli is blanched two minutes and dropped into iced water. That shock locks the green in, and the sauté cannot take it back out.
Türlü
The name means "all sorts" and the recipe means it: whatever is in the house goes in. The one rule is the order they cook in.
Eggs with sucuk
Crack the eggs before the sucuk has released its fat and you get dry sausage and lean eggs. The order is not a preference, it is the recipe.