A funky little yellow and purple shop tucked in the Istiklal Caddesi selling, of all things, potato chips with 16 different condiments to choose from - the yogurt comes highly recommended by the friendly staff. I stuck with safer cheddar.
One my weird-fond memories of Istanbul is walking down the Istiklal Caddesi and stopping for a midnight snack at Patatas after a few beers, sitting in its arty interior with wall scribbles in many languages and purple chairs with yellow tables watching the midnight crowd on the Istiklal Caddesi, still going strong and the shops still open for business. It's a bohemian, 24-hour slice of Istanbul - where buskers sing melancholic tunes accompanied by the hauntingly beautiful strings of the oud (the Middle Eastern predecessor to the lute), writers hawk self-published books and little winding alleys lead into hidden taverns and tea-gardens on cobble-stoned streets with potted flowers, with bohemian shops selling mystic shawls, lampshades, Spongebob boxers and books with titles like "why Jack Kerouac is important".
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