There’s an old joke that the Middle-East peace talks would be more successful if they were held in the one place Jews and Arabs have gotten along for years….Beverly Hills!

When I first visited Greece in 1975 I made the mistake of asking a Cretan coffee-shop owner (dressed in black bloomers, black knee-high boots, a black head-scarf, and a knife in his belt – straight out of the villagers in Zorba The Greek) for a Turkish coffee. He glared at me with his black eyes for a moment before saying, “If you ever ask me for a Turkish coffee again, I will throw you out of my store”. Over the years, friends to whom I have recounted this story (yes, Tom, this means YOU!) have teased me mercilessly about my faux-pas. Well, it turns out that I was not as indiscreet as some would believe, and in fact, Greeks called it Turkish coffee as well, up until the Turkish invasion of Cyprus in 1974. Growing up in Montreal, everyone called it Turkish coffee, or when ordering in a kafeneio or restaurant, simply a Turkish.

Further some 30 years, and Greeks are now one of Turkey’s most frequent holiday visitors, as well as supporters of the country’s membership in the European Union. In that same spirit of detente, I find myself increasingly drawn to Turkish products, as can be witnessed below:

I’ve already raved about the excellent Derby razor blades in my various shaving entries. The Arko shave stick just arrived and I’m eager to try it, following rave reviews on the shaving forums (more on that later today). I have not tasted the Cola Turka, which I acquired as a small memento and curiosity during my 2003 Aegean sailing trip on our rented 56-foot sailboat, Sophia III, that started in Bodrum, Turkey. Just the right size for seven burly, overfed Greeks.

No trip to Turkey would be complete without a visit to the Hammam or Turkish baths. Definitely not co-ed since that much corpulence on display might reduce the already declining Western birth-rate even further than it already is (not a picture of me, by-the-way):