Some places in Istanbul stay with you because of what you saw there. Others stay with you because of who first took you. For me, Lades Menemen belongs to the second kind: a small breakfast address in Beyoğlu that I have returned to for roughly twenty years, ever since Rubil Gündüz brought me there when I was a kid.
On October 28, 2026, Nil Özdil and I sat down at Lades for breakfast. We ordered karışık menemen—the mixed version of Turkey’s beloved tomato-and-egg dish—along with tomatoes, fresh green peppers, olives, and bal kaymak, honey with thick clotted cream. We loved it. But I left thinking, once again, about the people who have kept this place alive and what a good Turkish breakfast says about the way we live.
A Breakfast That Knows Your Name
Lades sits on Sadri Alışık Sokak, just off İstiklal Avenue, in a part of the city where businesses come and go at dizzying speed. I have watched Beyoğlu change over the years: familiar storefronts disappear, new concepts arrive, and some streets look different each time I walk through them. Lades offers something increasingly difficult to find—continuity without ceremony.
Rubil could have taken me anywhere when I was younger. The fact that he took me here gave the place a story before I even had the vocabulary to explain why it mattered. Years later, sitting there with Nil, I felt how one person’s recommendation can turn into another person’s tradition. This is how a city passes itself on.
Menemen, Honey & the Shared Table
At the center of our breakfast sat menemen, eggs gently cooked with tomatoes and green peppers until everything comes together in a soft, spoonable mixture. A mixed menemen adds its own extra pleasures, but the dish still depends on the same simple relationship between good eggs, ripe tomatoes and heat. It asks for bread, preferably enough to catch every last bit of sauce.
Then came the other half of the conversation: the salty olives and crisp vegetables, followed by bal kaymak. Thick kaymak and honey have a way of making a modest breakfast feel celebratory. The sweetness slows you down after the savory pan, and someone inevitably reaches for another piece of bread.
This is the difference between ordering one breakfast dish and sitting down to a Turkish breakfast. The small plates remain in the middle; nobody needs to defend a private portion of tomatoes or olives. The meal becomes a quiet exercise in sharing.
Esra, İlker & the Family Behind Lades
Esra Çelikkol and İlker Çelikkol are the people I associate with Lades today. They are lovely hosts, and Esra in particular has the kind of presence you remember: friendly, direct and unmistakably strong. She gives a family business a human face, which matters far more to me than a clever restaurant concept.
The family history reaches back to the 1960s, when Lades began as a muhallebici, a shop known for milk puddings, in Tarlabaşı. The branch on Sadri Alışık Sokak followed in the early 1970s; Esra has dated the Lades Menemen shop to 1973. The familiar name carries the work of earlier generations, including her father, Adem Çelikkol, and their relatives.
In a 2022 interview with Independent Türkçe, Esra described how regulars shared news from their lives with the family and how strangers sometimes struck up friendships across a table. Her account explains the warmth I have felt there for years. It takes effort, memory and stamina to build that kind of trust, especially in a neighborhood that rarely stands still.
What Kahvaltı Says About Us
The Turkish word kahvaltı comes from kahve altı—something eaten before Turkish coffee. The name remembers one habit, while the table has grown into something bigger. Today, Turkish black tea often accompanies the morning meal, but the real ritual lies in giving breakfast enough time to become a conversation.
When we invite someone for breakfast in Turkey, we are offering more than food. We are offering a seat, an unhurried exchange, perhaps the pleasure of insisting that they take a little more. A good table gives people permission to remain together after the first hunger has passed.
I sometimes think breakfast is our gentlest form of democracy. The plates stand between us; the bread travels from hand to hand. Of course, no meal erases the inequalities outside the door, but for an hour it can make a little room for attention, generosity and the simple recognition that another person is worth our time.
The Working Memory of Beyoğlu
Lades also belongs to the history of the esnaf lokantası—the tradespeople’s restaurant, where cooking feeds the people who make a city work. The Lades family operated a separate home-style restaurant across the street for decades. That dining room faced closure in April 2026, amid rising operating costs, while Lades Menemen continued to welcome breakfast customers. This distinction matters: the breakfast shop remains open.
The story is bigger than one family. Cities celebrate new openings loudly and often let old businesses disappear in silence. Each loss takes away more than a menu; it removes a meeting point, a familiar voice and a portion of the neighborhood’s shared memory.
That does not mean every good restaurant must look old-fashioned. Consider Salon Galata, where a modern kitchen inhabits a historic building in Karaköy. There is room in Istanbul for invention and continuity. What we cannot afford to lose is the sense that someone, somewhere, actually cares whether you come back.
How to Enjoy Lades Menemen
Find Lades Menemen at Sadri Alışık Sokak No. 11/12, near İstiklal Avenue in Beyoğlu. Come for breakfast, though the kitchen has traditionally served food well beyond the morning hours; check current opening times before making a special trip. If it is your first visit, start with menemen, add the tomatoes, green peppers and olives, and do not skip the bal kaymak.
Do not expect a theatrical version of Istanbul created for visitors. Come ready for an ordinary breakfast made meaningful by the people, the family history and the habit of returning. That is a better souvenir than almost anything you can put in a suitcase.
Come Hungry & Leave Curious
Rubil brought me here when I was young. Two decades later, Nil and I still enjoy sitting down at Lades, and Esra and İlker still give the place its generous character. I hope the next person who reads this finds a reason to return too—and perhaps brings somebody younger along.
At The Other Tour, this is the version of Istanbul we care about: food that leads to people, and people who lead to stories. If you would like to discover the city through its everyday tables and neighborhoods, send us an inquiry about our Istanbul food tours. We will help shape a day around your curiosity, rather than a checklist.
