Istanbul is one of the greatest cities in the world. It’s the meeting point between East and West, home to some of the most beautiful buildings on the planet, has history oozing out of every pore, and is a must-visit for any global traveller. It’s also one of the best places to eat and drink you’re likely to come across. We explore what it has to offer.

This freshly-baked, molasses-soaked, sesame-crusted take on the bagel is ubiquitous on Istanbul’s streets and is great for breakfast or a light lunch. Street vendors peddle it all day long and it’s probably one of the first and last things you eat on your visit. The best part’s the cost. You shouldn’t expect to pay more than 50 cents a pop.

The name of this simple, satisfying sandwich – which you’ll find all over the waterfront parts of city, but most notably on the Sultanahmet side of the Galata Bridge – translates literally as, well, fish sandwich. Weave past the countless fishermen to the boats on which their catch is cooked, but be warned: no one’s going to take you seriously if you sit down, rather than stay on your feet, for this Istanbuli staple.

Kebab is undoubtedly the great contribution of the Middle East to world cuisine. In Australia, we’ve turned it into a late-night go-to, but in Turkey it works at any time of day, at any price point, in multiple forms: it is a truly democratic invention. Dürüm kebab resembles our own in a lot of ways, though it’s a whole lot lighter (don’t expect to get something as thick as your thigh) and is best considered more of a snack than a meal. (You’ll need to order two to get full.) Whether beef, chicken, cheese or vegetarian – and often containing chips, which can throw you at first – it’s available at any time of the day all over the city, most notably at Taksim Square.

Named after the fifth largest city in Turkey, Adana kebab is a long, hand-minced meat kebab mounted on a wide iron skewer and grilled on an open mangal filled with burning charcoal. While you can get it in dürüm form (you can get most kebabs in dürüm form, including our favourite, the ciğer, or lamb’s liver, kebab), it is best experienced on the plate, accompanied by roasted tomatoes, peppers and julienned onions with parsley and sumac. It’s close cousin, the Urfa kebabı (from the city of the same name), is less spicy.

İskender kebab a kind of döner kebab (meat cooked on a vertical rotisserie) prepared from thinly cut grilled lamb basted with hot tomato sauce over pieces of pita bread and generously slathered with melted sheep butter and yogurt. Like the Adana kebab, it tends to come with roasted tomatoes and peppers, and usually a side of rice. One of the best places to try it in the heart of Istanbul is at Konak (No. 259, Şahkulu, İstiklal Cd., Beyoğlu) on İstiklal Avenue, the city’s main shopping strip.

Patlıcanlı kebab consists of pieces of eggplant and fine-chopped meat (rather than minced) skewered on a grill or baked in an oven with spices and peppers. You can also get this one in stew form. We’ve only touched the surface of the variety of kebabs available in Istanbul, but we suspect you get the idea. Be sure to experiment! There are literally hundreds of variations to experience!

What the rest of the world knows as Turkish delight is available in such a multiplicity of flavours and styles that the mind cannot but boggle. From the traditional varieties flavoured with rosewater, mastic, Bergamot orange or lemon, to the premium offerings containing chopped dates, pistachios, hazelnuts or walnuts, there’s no better way to end a meal or add a bit of spunk to afternoon tea. A visit to the Grand Bazaar, one of the oldest covered markets in the world, is basically to topple into the world of lokum head-on. If you’re looking something to take home, try one of the city’s several branches of Ali Muhiddin Hacı Bekir. (Try the cinnamon lokum. Trust us.)

If you don’t drink more tea in Turkey than anywhere else you’ve ever been, you’re simply not doing it right. Normally Rize tea, a variant of black tea which is consumed without milk, this is undoubtedly the single most popular beverage in Turkey. Old men drink it over their boardgames down side streets. Women ply you with it in their homes. It’s not uncommon to see teenagers running trays of the stuff from one place to another. No addresses needed here. You can find the stuff everywhere.

Turkish coffee is bitter and brilliant in equal measure. Roasted and then finely ground coffee beans are simmered (not boiled) in a pot, optionally with sugar (you’ll probably need it), and served in a cup where the grounds are allowed to settle. (It’s not a coffee for shooting. You’ll probably die.) UNESCO has given it Intangible Cultural Heritage status. Try it in the Grand Bazaar, but make sure you have a piece of lokum on hand!

Midye dolma, or mussels on the half shell, come served with spIcy rice and a squeeze of lemon juice. At night, you basically can’t move for midye dolma vendors, who serve the deliciously fresh bivalve molluscs one by one until you say stop. The problem, of course, is that you might neversay stop.

You’ll often find kokoreç described the guides as Turkey’s “most controversial” street food. Of course, only foreigners think of it as controversial, and then only after they’ve eaten it, loved it and – finally – been told what it actually is. The Turks themselves have no problem at all with eating spiced and skewered sheep’s intestines and, given how good kokoreç is, neither should you! Served in bread – a half- or quarter-loaf, depending on how hungry you are – it’s a delightfully greasy, salty affair, and the Turkish equivalent of the post-binge kebab here in Australia.

Believed to originate from the city and region of Maraş, in Turkey’s south, and often referred to as Maraş ice cream as a result, Turkey’s take on the dairy dessert is made with milk, sugar, salep, and mastic. You can’t miss the vendors: a walk down İstiklal wouldn’t be complete without the dondurma sellers’ cries, their bell-ringing showmanship. Churning the stuff constantly with their with long-handled paddles, the better to keep it workable, vendors will often tease their customers by serving the ice cream in a cone, then removing the former from the latter at will. Eventually they’ll relent, of course: you’ll know they have by the ringing of the aforementioned bells.

One of two types of Turkish pizza (the other is lahmacun, which we’ll get to in a minute), pide, as it is known in Istanbul and Australia alike, is Turkey’s take on the Lebanese sfiha, an open-faced meat pie that is usually made with ground mutton. Riffing on the pizza idea, you can also get pide with hot salami, four cheeses or even ham and egg (though they don’t call this latter an “Australiana” pide, which just seems rude). One of our favourites is Nizam Pide Salonu on Büyükparmakkapı Sk. off İstiklal, though you can basically find the stuff everywhere.

Lahmacun resembles an actual pizza rather more than the pie-like pide and consists of a round, thin piece of dough topped with minced meat (most commonly beef or lamb), minced vegetables and herbs, then baked. Popular throughout the Middle East, some of the best lahmacun in Istanbul is to be tried at either Halil Lahmacun or Borsam Taş Fırın in Kadıköy.