Tabiri Caizse

BY MEHMET ISTANBULLU · ABOUT 9 MINUTES

On Monday morning, TRT Haber ran the headline "Yeni haftada 'pastırma yazı' havası geliyor": "pastırma yazı" weather is coming this week. The report promised temperatures of up to 30 degrees in the south, and its cross-head set the country's two moods side by side: "İç kesimlerde 'pus', güneyde pastırma yazı havası." Haze inland, pastırma yazı weather in the south. The phrase sits in quotation marks, with havası, "the weather of," added as a hedge.

Others were less careful about the calendar. "Meteoroloji tarih verdi!" ("The met office has given a date!") ran one headline, and CNN Türk and Hürriyet both gave the season as Oct. 25 to Nov. 15. Memurlar.net had already pointed out that this was "resmi bir tahmin değil" ("not an official forecast") but a window drawn from past years, and that as of Oct. 4 the state weather service, MGM, had announced no start or end date. On A Haber, the meteorologist Adil Tek put it the way forecasters do: "Biraz o pastırma yazını hafif hissedeceğiz gibi gözüküyor." ("It looks as if we'll feel a little of that pastırma yazı.") That little word o, "that," says everything: everybody knows which summer he means.

Everybody in Turkey, that is. The uninitiated foreigner's first reaction is entirely fair: What pastırma? What yaz? Let's go from there.

English-language outlets in Turkey reach first for the nearest English idiom. "An Indian summer, known in Turkish as 'pastırma sıcakları,' is bringing warm and sunny weather to much of Türkiye in mid-October," the Türkiye Times wrote on Oct. 9. A day later Türkiye Today explained that the warm spell, "known locally as 'pastirma yazi,'" is "similar to what is commonly called an 'Indian summer' in English." That is a fair match for the weather. Readers should know, though, that the American Meteorological Society's glossary now discourages "Indian summer," calling it "a relic of the past and disrespectful of Native American people," and recommends "second summer" instead.

Then there is the literal route. When a follower asked the NYU historian Ayşe Baltacıoğlu-Brammer whether Turkish had a word for that late warmth, she answered: "We call it 'pastrami summer.' Apparently it is the time to make pastrami :)" Daily Sabah once glossed it the same way, as "'pastrami summer,' which is a consistent annual heat wave that takes place at the start of November." The smiley is the honest part. An English reader hears a deli sandwich, and the logic of the phrase goes missing.

Turks have their own debate. Every October someone insists the phrase is wrong. "Sözün doğrusu 'Pastırma Yazı' değil 'Pastırma Ayazı'" ("The correct form is not pastırma yazı but pastırma ayazı"), declared the fact-check site Malumatfuruş in 2023. This month Yeni Asır repeated that the period's "asıl adı," its real name handed down from the past, is said to be pastırma ayazı. Ayaz is the dry, clear frost of a cloudless night. One user scolded a popular weather account on X: "pastirma yazi diye bir sey yok. Pastirma ayazi vardir." ("There is no such thing as pastırma yazı. There is pastırma ayazı.") We will come back to the evidence.

The calendar crowd has its comedians. After the "dates" headlines, one user asked: "Bu tarihlerin dışında yaşanacak olan pastırma yazı veya pastırma ayazı yasak mı?" ("Is any pastırma yazı, or ayazı, outside these dates forbidden?") When rain cut short an early warm spell, another reported: "Pastırma sıcakları 15 dakika sürdü." ("The pastırma heat lasted 15 minutes.") A third went to the butcher's counter: "pastırma sıcakları ardından gelen yemeklik kıyma soğukları," the pastırma heat followed by the cold of mince for the pot.

And some regions have their own term. "Biliyorum pastırma yazı derler burada da sarı yaz derler," one user wrote: "I know they call it pastırma yazı; here they call it sarı yaz," the yellow summer. Daily Sabah keeps the two apart, with sarı yaz running from mid-September to mid-October, before the pastırma days arrive.

Pastırma is cured beef in a coat of çemen, a spiced paste. The TDK dictionary defines it as meat coated with salt, çemen and red pepper and dried in the sun or in smoke. The name tells you how it is made. According to Sevan Nişanyan's etymological dictionary, pastırma comes from bastırma, "bastırılarak kurutulmuş et," meat dried by being pressed. Behind it is the old verb bas-, "to tread underfoot, to press, to bear down," which already appears in the Orhon inscriptions of the eighth century. It is the same verb that, in another sense, gives modern Turkish basmak, "to print." Pastırma, in short, is the pressed thing.

Pastırma in its coat of çemen, Istanbul's Spice Bazaar, 2010. Photo: Tomislav Medak, CC BY 2.0, via Wikimedia Commons

The early spellings start with a b. Nişanyan's first written example is basdurma, in the fourteenth-century Danişmend-Name (1360). By 1665 Evliya Çelebi was describing shops decked out "kimyonlu pasdırmalarıyla," with their cumin-spiced pasdırma, and the b had turned into a p. The English word has a route of its own: pastrami reached New York by way of Yiddish and Romanian, and Nişanyan traces the Romanian form to Turkish bastırma.

The weather enters with the curing. Turkey's register of geographical indications, in its entry for Kayseri pastırması (registered 2002), says that the dry air of autumn and the wind off Mount Erciyes make open-air drying possible. Days run at 25 to 30 degrees and nights drop to 0 to 5. That wide gap between day and night, the entry says, gives ideal drying conditions, "ve bu nedenle 'pastırma yazı' olarak adlandırılır": "and for this reason it is called pastırma yazı." A state registry, in other words, has written a weather idiom into the record. A Kayseri producer told Anadolu Agency the old way in two words: "güneş gösteriyoruz," "we show it the sun."

Mount Erciyes, seen from Göreme in Cappadocia, Oct. 29, 2024. Photo: DvTor8303, public domain (CC0), via Wikimedia Commons

There is a modern footnote. The same registry entry notes that when the weather does not cooperate, producers use climate-controlled rooms at 20 to 25 degrees. The meat no longer has to wait for the season. The phrase has outlived its job and lives on as weather talk.

My own pastırma yazı is an unusually warm and bright fall day in Istanbul. A day that could otherwise have been spent at home, because of the weather, opens up wide opportunities outdoors.

Yaz is summer. Nişanyan derives it from Old Turkic yaz or yay, "spring or summer," and the old texts do not always agree which season they mean. Over the centuries yaz settled on summer, and in this phrase it turns up in November. The TDK defines pastırma yazı simply as "Güzün sonundaki sıcak günler," the warm days at the end of autumn.

The grammar is worth a moment. Pastırma yazı is a compound, with the -ı ending tying the two nouns together: not "a pastırma summer" but "the summer of pastırma," the pastırma's own summer. That is why a forecaster can say pastırma yazını hissedeceğiz, "we will feel the pastırma summer," and every native speaker hears one fixed expression. Headline writers now often prefer the plural pastırma sıcakları, "the pastırma heat," which is how the Türkiye Times glossed it.

The phrase reaches print surprisingly late. The earliest dated pastırma yazı in Nişanyan's dictionary is from 1929, and it is not a weather report. It is the title of a newspaper serial by the writer Ercüment Ekrem (Talu), running in Milliyet. On Jan. 29, 1929, the paper told readers that the serial had been interrupted because the author was unwell, and ran a Selâmi İzzet story in its place. So the first written "pastırma summer" was a story that stopped in the middle of winter.

What about ayazı? The case for it rests on a line attributed to Ahmet Vefik Paşa's nineteenth-century collection of proverbs: "Kasımın kırkı, pastırma ayazı imiş." Malumatfuruş cites it from a 2005 modern-script edition. Nişanyan records the line, with a question mark over the date of 1871, and adds a note: the claim that pastırma yazı is a corruption of pastırma ayazı is attributed to Vefik Paşa, but it does not appear in the 1871 printing of his work, and the 2005 edition includes sayings that were not in the original. The correction itself is older than this month's posts. A 1976 collection by Refik Topkan already has "Pastırma yazı değil, pastırma ayazı." The TDK dictionary lists pastırma yazı, and MGM's glossary heads its entry "PASTIRMA YAZI." The ayazı theory is a lovely one. It even fits the weather, since the curing needs the frosty nights as much as the warm days. The printed record simply puts yazı first. For what it is worth, I go with yazı, and I am happy to share the warm days with the ayazı camp.

MGM's glossary adds a final surprise. Its entry reads "PASTIRMA YAZI (ALL-HALLOWN SUMMER)" and defines the phrase as "Sonbaharın son dönemlerinde yaşanan yaza benzer iyi havalar," summer-like fine weather at the very end of autumn. All-Hallown summer is an old English name tied to All Hallows, Nov. 1. The AMS glossary notes that it was "mentioned by Shakespeare" but that its use "appears to have died out." The mention is in Henry IV, Part 1, where Prince Hal waves off his aging friend Falstaff: "Farewell, thou latter spring! farewell, All-hallown summer!" An old man still warm in the autumn of life is the same idea as the Turkish phrase, and a fine official translation.

Most languages have a name for this spell, and most name it after people or saints' days. German says Altweibersommer, "old women's summer," and Polish babie lato, Russian бабье лето, Hungarian vénasszonyok nyara and Lithuanian bobų vasara say much the same. In some of these languages the word also covers the threads of spider silk that drift through the autumn air. French has l'été de la Saint-Martin and Spanish el veranillo de San Martín, after the feast on Nov. 11. Spanish also has veranillo del membrillo, the little quince summer. Serbian has Miholjsko leto, St. Michael's summer, and Bulgarian сиромашко лято, the poor man's summer. Swedish says brittsommar, and Irish has a "little autumn of the geese."

Turkish has an old woman too, but she brings the cold. The TDK defines kocakarı soğuğu, "the old woman's cold," as the cold days that come at certain times in spring. Europe's old women bring a warm autumn; Turkey's brings the last bite of winter.

Among all these names, Turkish is the one that named the season after a job: hanging beef in the sun. As one explainer thread on X put it, after listing the German and American names: "Biz direkt yemeğe bağlamışız, çok bizlik." ("We tied it straight to food. Very us.")

What pastırma? Pressed, cured beef, and the word itself means "pressed." What yaz? Summer, arriving late. Together they mean the handful of warm, still days and cold, clear nights at the end of autumn, the days that traditionally hang Kayseri's beef out to dry, and the days that Turks now wait for, check the forecast for and argue about.

This column comes out on Oct. 25, the first day of the window the headlines have been quoting. So here is my last word to the foreigner: pastırma yazı is a surprising summer day brightening your late autumn, or fall.

Sürç-i lisan eylediysek…

Translations of Turkish quotes are the author's own.

Commute first, then schools, then the building. Where a newcomer should begin, and a free guide for the rest.

BY MEHMET ISTANBULLU · ABOUT 5 MINUTES

Istanbul is split by a strait, cut again by the Golden Horn and stitched back together by two tunnels, three bridges and a fleet of ferries. İBB, the metropolitan municipality, publishes an earthquake booklet for each of its 39 districts ^[10]. Rents for the same 100 square meters run from about 22,800 lira ($460) a month in Esenyurt to 65,100 lira ($1,310) in Kadıköy, according to Endeksa data for September ^[11].

So where does a newcomer on a one-year contract begin? Not with the apartment. Begin with the water, the commute and the school run. The flat comes last.

Map: The Other Post; © OpenStreetMap contributors

We read 330 listings on one major portal, Emlakjet, across 11 districts, checked Oct. 21 ^[14]. These are asking rents from small samples, not signed rents. Dollar figures use the central bank's Oct. 20 rate of 49.578 lira ^[15].

For families: Beşiktaş. Levent, Etiler and Ulus up the hill; Ortaköy and Bebek on the shore. MEF International School is in Ulus, and the M2 and M6 serve the business axis ^[12]. It is the most expensive district in our sample. The median 1+1 (one bedroom plus a living room) asked 65,000 lira ($1,310) a month, and the median 2+1 asked 100,000 lira ($2,020) ^[14]. In İBB's earthquake model, 8% of its buildings reach moderate or worse damage ^[10].

For couples and singles: Kadıköy. Cafés around Moda, family blocks along Bağdat Avenue. The ferry to Karaköy and Eminönü crosses in 20 to 25 minutes, every 20 minutes from 7 a.m. to 8 p.m. on weekdays ^[16]. The median 1+1 asked 52,000 lira ($1,050) and the median 2+1 58,000 lira ($1,170) ^[14]. Earthquake model: 13% ^[10]. It is also our pick for anyone who works in the old city.

The value pick: Kağıthane. A former industrial valley, now towers, with quick access to Levent and Gayrettepe on the M7 and M11 ^[12]. The median 2+1 asked 45,000 lira ($910) ^[14]. Earthquake model: 7% ^[10].

The ranges inside each district are wide. Sarıyer 2+1s ran from 25,000 to 145,000 lira ^[14]. A district median is a starting point, not a quote.

1. Paying before you have seen the flat and the owner. Since Jan. 1, 2025, a rental ad on a listing platform may be posted only by the tapu (title deed) holder, close family or a licensed emlakçı (estate agent) the owner has authorized on e-Devlet, the government's online portal ^[17]. Pay no kapora (holding payment) and no depozito (security deposit) until you have seen the flat in person and the owner's ID next to the tapu. Then pay by bank transfer to an account in the owner's name.

2. Choosing a flat whose owner won't go to the noter. A short-term ikamet (residence permit) based on a rental needs a copy of the lease certified by a noter (notary public) and carrying the details of the ev sahibi (landlord) ^[18]. Without it there is no rental-based permit. Ask before the viewing, not after you move in.

3. Letting the paperwork differ from what you pay. Cash payments, an understated figure on the notarized lease or a different currency all remove your proof in a dispute. Write the real amount and currency into the lease, and pay by transfer with a description naming the month and the address.

4. Signing before checking that the address can be registered. From 2022, many Istanbul neighborhoods were closed to new first-time residence registrations by foreigners. Several law firms report that the restriction was lifted citywide from June 10, 2026 ^[19]. We found no official notice from the migration authority confirming it. Check your exact address on e-ikamet, or call the foreigners' line, 157, before you sign.

One more date for the calendar. A fixed-term lease renews automatically for another year unless the tenant gives notice at least 15 days before it ends ^[20]. Write that date down on the day you sign.

This piece is the short version. The Other Post Guide to Renting in Istanbul, 2026–27 Edition is the long one: a 26-page PDF you can keep on your phone or print, free to download on our site.

Download the free guide

What is in it:

What it is not: a forecast, or legal advice. The rents are asking prices from one portal, checked Oct. 21, and Istanbul rents move fast, so treat them as a starting range. The legal sections are general information; where the law is unsettled, the guide says so. We will update it, and each edition will carry the date its prices were checked.

The move: Fix the commute and the school first, shortlist two districts, then ask every owner the same three questions: iskan, DASK, noter.

SOURCES (1–20) · TABIRI CAIZSE 1–9 · LIFE 10–20

Thumbnail map: The Other Post; © OpenStreetMap contributors

The Other Post: The Daily Briefing for the Conscientious Leader, through an Istanbul lens is independent analysis for decision-makers. Nothing here is investment, legal or medical advice. Issue No. 11 · © 2026 Mehmet Istanbullu