In Istanbul, Sunday isn’t just another day-it’s the quiet, golden hour when families gather, expats step away from work emails, and even the busiest professionals slow down for one meal that feels like home. While the city thrives on kebabs, mezes, and balık ekmek, there’s a growing appetite for something deeper: a slow-roasted joint of meat, crackling skin, golden potatoes, and gravy that clings to every bite. If you’re looking for a Sunday roast in Istanbul that doesn’t feel like a British import but rather a well-loved local tradition, you’re in the right place.
Why Sunday Roast Works in Istanbul
There’s something about Istanbul’s rhythm that makes Sunday roast feel natural. The city wakes up late, the Bosphorus glows in the morning light, and by noon, people are already settling into tables with wine, tea, or raki. Unlike in the UK, where roast beef is tied to church bells and cold winters, here it’s about comfort, family, and the luxury of time. Many Istanbul restaurants have adapted the classic roast to local tastes-using Turkish herbs like oregano and sumac, slow-cooking lamb shoulder instead of beef, or serving it with bulgur pilaf instead of Yorkshire pudding. It’s not about copying. It’s about belonging.
1. The Butcher’s Table - Kadıköy
On the Asian side, in the heart of Kadıköy’s bustling Çarşı neighborhood, The Butcher’s Table has become a weekend pilgrimage. Opened by a British expat and a Turkish butcher from Samsun, this place sources its beef from the highlands of Eastern Anatolia-specifically, grass-fed Black Angus raised near Erzurum. Their Sunday roast is a three-hour braise in red wine, rosemary, and a touch of pomegranate molasses, served with caramelized root vegetables and a gravy made from bone broth reduced for 12 hours. The potatoes? Roasted in olive oil and sprinkled with dried mint. No Yorkshire pudding here, but they do offer a side of warm lavash bread, perfect for soaking up every drop. Reservations are essential-this place fills up by 11:30 a.m. on Sundays.
2. Kebapçı İskender - Beyoğlu (The Roast Edition)
You know Kebapçı İskender for its iconic lamb slices over bread, drenched in tomato sauce and melted butter. But since 2024, their Sunday-only Roast İskender has become a cult favorite. Instead of thinly sliced kebab, they slow-roast a whole lamb leg for 8 hours over charcoal, then carve it thick and serve it over toasted sourdough. The tomato sauce is lighter here-made with roasted peppers and a dash of Aleppo pepper. They top it with a swirl of thick yogurt and a sprinkle of dried mint. It’s not traditional, but it’s unmistakably Istanbul. Locals line up outside by 11 a.m., and many bring their own thermoses of Turkish coffee to sip while they wait. Don’t expect a fork. This one’s meant to be eaten with your hands.
3. La Maison - Nişantaşı
For those who want the full British experience without leaving Istanbul, La Maison in Nişantaşı delivers. Their roast is imported from Scotland-prime rib aged 28 days, cooked to medium-rare, and served with horseradish cream, roasted Brussels sprouts, and a proper Yorkshire pudding that puffs up like a cloud. What makes it stand out is the attention to detail: the gravy is made from beef drippings and a splash of Şalgam suyu (fermented turnip juice), a Turkish twist that adds a subtle tang. The restaurant’s garden terrace overlooks the Bosphorus, and on clear Sundays, you can see ferries gliding past while you chew on your third slice of meat. They even serve tea in bone china with a side of Turkish delight-because why choose?
4. Çiya Sofrası - Kadıköy (The Vegetarian Roast)
Not everyone eats meat. At Çiya Sofrası, known for its regional Anatolian dishes, the Sunday roast is reimagined as a slow-roasted eggplant and walnut loaf. It’s baked in a clay pot with garlic, thyme, and pomegranate syrup, then sliced like a terrine. Served with roasted beetroot, tahini yogurt, and pickled turnips, it’s rich, earthy, and deeply satisfying. Many locals who’ve lived abroad come here specifically for this dish-it reminds them of the Sunday roasts they missed while living in London or Berlin. The staff will even pack you a portion to take home, wrapped in parchment paper with a sprig of rosemary.
5. Mado - Multiple Locations (The Quick Roast)
If you’re short on time but still want the essence of a Sunday roast, Mado’s new Roast Box is your answer. Available at all 40+ locations-from Taksim to Beşiktaş-this grab-and-go option includes a slice of slow-roasted chicken breast, roasted potatoes, green beans, and a small jar of rosemary-infused gravy. It’s not fancy, but it’s reliable, affordable (just 120 TL), and perfect for families who need to get back to the kids or a meeting at the office. Many expat parents pick this up on their way home from work on Sundays. It’s the Turkish version of a microwave roast-except it’s actually good.
What to Order With Your Roast
Forget the traditional British sides. In Istanbul, your roast pairs better with local flavors:
- Çiğdemli salata - A crisp salad of dandelion greens, walnuts, and pomegranate seeds
- Simit - Instead of bread, break off a piece of this sesame-crusted ring and dip it in gravy
- Şalgam suyu - The fermented turnip drink cuts through the richness better than any cider
- Domates suyu - Tomato juice with a pinch of salt and black pepper, served chilled
And if you’re feeling indulgent, order a glass of Çalkarası red wine from Aydın. It’s bold, fruity, and surprisingly good with lamb.
When to Go and How to Avoid the Crowds
Sunday roasts in Istanbul are popular-but not everyone knows the best times to go. Here’s the local trick:
- Arrive before 11:30 a.m. for the best seats and shortest wait
- After 2 p.m., most places switch to their regular menu-roast options disappear
- Book ahead, especially at The Butcher’s Table and La Maison
- Ask for a window table. The view of the Bosphorus or the minarets of Sultanahmet makes the meal feel even more special
Pro tip: If you’re staying in a hotel in Beyoğlu or Beşiktaş, ask the concierge for their personal favorite roast spot. Many have secret recommendations not listed online.
Why This Matters in Istanbul
The rise of the Sunday roast in Istanbul isn’t about imitation. It’s about adaptation. As the city grows more global, its food culture becomes more layered-not replacing tradition, but weaving new threads into it. A Sunday roast here isn’t just meat and potatoes. It’s the smell of rosemary from the Black Sea coast, the tang of Şalgam, the quiet hum of a family reunion after a long week. It’s the way Istanbul takes something foreign and makes it feel like it’s always belonged.
Can I get a Sunday roast in Istanbul on weekdays?
Most places only serve roast on Sundays because it’s a slow-cooked dish that requires planning and prep. Some high-end spots like La Maison offer it on Saturdays by reservation, but you won’t find it reliably on weekdays. The ritual is tied to the day off, not just the food.
Is Sunday roast expensive in Istanbul?
Prices range from 120 TL at Mado to 450 TL at La Maison. Most mid-range spots like The Butcher’s Table charge around 280-320 TL per person. It’s more expensive than a kebab, but less than a full tasting menu. For many, it’s a weekly treat-not a daily meal.
Do Turkish people eat roast beef regularly?
Not traditionally. Beef is less common than lamb or chicken in Turkish home cooking. But Sunday roast has become a cultural hybrid-popular among expats, young professionals, and families who’ve lived abroad. It’s not a Turkish staple, but it’s becoming a Sunday staple.
Are there vegetarian or vegan roast options?
Yes. Çiya Sofrası’s eggplant and walnut loaf is the most famous. Some newer spots like Roots & Rye in Karaköy offer a mushroom and lentil roast with truffle gravy. Ask ahead-these aren’t always on the menu unless you’re dining on Sunday.
Can I take leftovers home?
Absolutely. Most places will pack your roast in a reusable container, often with a side of gravy in a small jar. Some even include a piece of lavash or bread to reheat it with the next day. It’s common to see people carrying their roast home like a trophy.
Next Steps: Where to Try It Next
If you’ve tried the classics and want to go deeper, look for pop-up Sunday roasts in hidden courtyards of Kadıköy or along the Bosphorus in Bebek. In spring, the Roast & Raki festival returns to the Princes’ Islands, where local chefs serve roast lamb with island-grown herbs and homemade raki. Keep an eye on Instagram accounts like @IstanbulRoastClub or @SundayEatsIstanbul-they post weekly updates on new spots, seasonal menus, and last-minute reservations.
At its heart, a Sunday roast in Istanbul isn’t about the meat. It’s about slowing down. About choosing connection over convenience. And in a city that never stops moving, that’s the real luxury.
6 Comments
There’s something about the way Istanbul folds foreign rituals into its own rhythm that feels sacred. Not appropriation-more like quiet adoption. The roast isn’t British here. It’s Anatolian with a sigh. The pomegranate in the gravy, the Şalgam beside the meat, the way people eat with their hands at İskender… it’s not fusion. It’s belonging. 🌿
As a cultural anthropologist and food systems specialist, I’d argue this phenomenon represents a post-colonial culinary reclamation matrix-where diasporic traditions are re-embedded into indigenous frameworks through hyperlocal ingredient substitution and ritual temporalization. The Sunday roast here isn’t an import; it’s a syntactic recalibration of gastronomic identity. The use of Şalgam suyu as a deglazing agent? Pure hermeneutic culinary innovation. 🍷🧄
I’ve eaten Sunday roast in London, Melbourne, and now Istanbul-and honestly, the version at The Butcher’s Table is the most thoughtful. Not because it’s ‘authentic,’ but because it respects both traditions. The bone broth reduced for 12 hours? That’s labor as love. And the lavash instead of Yorkshire pudding? Genius. You don’t need to force the British version. You just need to make it feel like home. Well done, Istanbul.
La Maison’s gravy with Şalgam suyu is wild. I went last month and didn’t believe it at first-but then I took a sip and just… stopped. Like, the whole table went quiet. It’s not weird. It’s right. And the fact that they serve Turkish delight with tea? That’s the whole city in one bite. No one’s trying to be British. They’re just being Istanbul. And that’s enough.
mado roast box is the real MVP. 120tl, chicken, potatoes, gravy in a jar. i ate it on the ferry back from kadıköy with my kid. no forks needed. no reservations. no pretense. this is what sunday roast looks like when you’re tired and just want to not think. also best thing i’ve eaten all year. 🙌
Why do we romanticize this? It’s just expensive meat with fancy sides. People act like it’s spiritual but it’s just another way to spend money pretending you’re cultured. The eggplant loaf is nice I guess but let’s not pretend this isn’t performative dining. Also why is everyone so obsessed with Şalgam? It tastes like fermented dirt. 🤷♀️