The Vegan Boulangerie Parisians Thought Impossible Exists. Meet: Vacilando.

If you live in one of the most crowded districts of a bustling metropolis like Istanbul, a walk as essential as a trip to the grocery store turns into a form of passive resistance in the middle of a battlefield, trying to escape the camera screens of those taking souvenir photos with Galata Tower in the background. Brides and grooms, influencers/YouTubers, San Sebastian cheesecake plates, tourist groups posing with Dubai chocolates, and marriage proposals with fireworks all add to the chaos. The only way to navigate this is to keep your head down, push through the crowd without worrying about which screen you might end up on, and walk forward with confident, unwavering steps. Those who have found themselves in Galata Square during peak hours, approximately two hours after sunrise and four hours before sunset, know what a struggle it is to reach Serdar-ı Ekrem.

The early hours before the morning turmoil in Galata.

Now that you’ve finally arrived at the street, as you try to carve a path against the human tide and feel like giving up, the road suddenly slopes downward to the right, offering a breath of relief. You pass by Emi, one of the relatively newer coffee shops in the neighborhood, deciding to postpone your visit to an earlier morning. Continuing downhill, you take the second left and arrive at Dibek Street. The notes of John Coltrane or Miles Davis drifting through the air announce that you've made it to your final destination: Vacilando. This Spanish word, which Steinbeck described as an experience where the journey itself is more valuable than the destination, perfectly encapsulates every visit here, where I find myself torn between which road to take: sweet or savory, galette or pie, brownie, quiche, or tartine. The building, once a haven for an underground theater group and later the headquarters for Istanbul’s first co-working space, Blogger’s Base, is now a neighborhood bakery that defies the Parisian pastry chefs who once shook their heads and said, “Non,” when I asked for vegan options. Here, everything is possible: melting cheese toasts, fluffy grandmother cakes, crusty tomato galettes.

Leftover conversations at Vacilando.

As I slide open the door, the freshly baked orange and almond cake and Özge, in the middle of her sixteen-hour workday, greet me in the open kitchen. She points to the galette atthe counter, saying it’s just out of the oven and gluten-free. I ask if it's made with buckwheat. It’s a blend of oats, rice, potato starch, and corn flour, served with a salad of pickled kohlrabi, she says. Six minutes later, at a table on display from her mother’s shop at Horhor, I sit before a half-eaten leek galette and listen to Özge’s story. My stomach is content.

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I don’t belong to a vegan community, but Vacilando does. I’m an idealist trying to create an inclusive and safe space for everyone.

“My father is a fisherman. A fish import-exporter. Growing up, our home was the epicenter of all kinds of surplus fish and seafood. I used to tie strings around lobsters' necks and walk them around the garden—imagine a clueless circus. When I was eleven, I was sent to Italy for summer school. Before that, we had dinner in Milan with my father’s business partner. A slab of raw, bloody meat, cooked the ‘proper’ way according to them, was placed in front of me. It was called filet mignon. The moment I saw it, I made my decision: I wouldn’t eat it. That summer, out of my own free will, I stopped eating animals for two months. But returning home meant returning to its food culture and traditions. I didn’t quit meat entirely then. It took years, facing patriarchal structures, witnessing men metaphorically devouring one another, enduring accepted political systems and workplace harassment. I had to wait until I was twenty-six to rebel.”

Conducting job interviews for The Vegan Gazette.

Hazal - Did you become vegan to avoid eating, cooking, and consuming meat, or did you start cooking because you became vegan? Or did you simply enter the kitchen to replace what you stopped eating?

Özge - “I studied performing arts management. I worked at the Istanbul and Venice Biennales. Then, I went to New York to study acting, came back, earned a master’s degree, and performed in city theaters. When regulations changed, I realized I didn’t want to continue this profession under authority. I sought a job where I could communicate beyond a single language, something I could do anywhere in the world. That’s how I discovered the kitchen. I enrolled in MSA Cooking Academy, and during my internship at the Swiss Hotel, my French chef influenced my growing interest in pastries. Turkish desserts are too sugary. The Italian cuisine I was familiar with has a vast dessert culture, but everything is made simply with high-quality ingredients. I think that’s why I gravitated toward the more technical, almost laboratory-like approach of French patisserie. In 2014, I opened my first shop in Arnavutköy. That was my school. Back then, neither I nor the shop was vegan. We were a neighborhood bakery offering good coffee and sweet and savory options. In 2020, just as the pandemic hit, I moved my home and business to Galata, and since I had already been eating vegan for a few years, the kitchen naturally evolved with me.”

That’s when I first met Vacilando, searching for wholesome, tasty food as a vegan in Galata. At the time, there were only a few vegan options, but they were good.

The Cherry Pie

"Vegan cooking is a laboratory. You can’t substitute soy for ground meat in the same ratio; you need to learn, diversify, and experiment with spices and methods. I cook what I want to eat at home, here. Since I’m primarily a vegan consumer, I keep learning. It is essential for the producer to also be a consumer. We don’t use packaged products. Either we make it ourselves, or if a small producer does it better, we source from them—whether it’s tofu, pickles, flour, milk, or cheese. We use heirloom wheat. Our flour is Karakılçık, a variety grown only in Turkey and milled in Bursa. Our priority is working with pesticide-free, sustainable farmers. Many customers ask for sandwich and salad recipes, but we tell them it’s not possible because they’d have to start by making apricot mustard and wild blueberry vinegar the way we do here. The sauces, and dressings also change with seasonal ingredients."

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We’re a vegetarian-friendly vegan café. We want to be inclusive. Every day, we offer one vegetarian savory and one vegetarian sweet option; everything else is vegan.

The place fills up. At the tables, I hear Portuguese, Italian, and Korean. I wonder who Vacilando’s customers are.

“ Many people dine here without realizing the food is vegan. I’m not sure who the customer are, but we strive to be inclusive—not just for vegans, vegetarians, carnivores, or herbivores, but for all. What stands out most are European tourists and young hijabi women exploring veganism. I try to introduce veganism and its ideas through taste and conversation. At Vacilando, you’ll see a group of hijabi women at one table, a trans community at another, and a former ambassador and his wife at a third. That togetherness is the essence of this place."

Before leaving, I ask one last question: Is veganism expensive, or is life in general in Istanbul?

“Everything is expensive in this city, not just vegan products. Are we more expensive than our neighbours? I don’t know. But I can explain the breakdown. We bake our own bread, mill our own flour, import almonds from Adıyaman, and sometimes source specialty items from Europe. Our cheese contains cashews, almonds, tapioca, and agar agar. Using modified ingredients lowers costs, but I won’t put anything I wouldn’t eat myself. There are also unforeseen costs. For example, vegan cleaning products. For example, insurance. It’s essential that everyone working here, whether for four months or four years, has insurance and compensation, so that when they leave, they understand their rights and learn to demand them in the future."

I’m thinking about values and costs as the leftovers on my plate are placed into cardboard boxes. That too has a cost—the cardboard box. And so does living in Galata. A week later, Özge texts me: 'We made marble cake, come over.' In a heartbeat, I find myself on Dibek Street, at Vacilando, where Billie Holiday is playing. Being a part of this neighborhood, in spite of its turbulence, has its merit too.

Another day, another galette with the seasonal salad

A must-have: In the morning, try the lemon, almond, orange, or any kind of cake. At lunch, enjoy the galette or toast with the salad.

My favorite: Water kefir.

Word of mouth: If you’re having a party, a wedding, or just a gathering, you can have Vacilando’s pop-up kitchen come to your home. 

Word of mouth II: Özge’s mother has a shop called Antikane in the Antique Dealers' Bazaar in Horhor. The shop also serves as her showroom, where items are continually sold, and as they are sold, the decor evolves.

Hours: Vacilando is closed on Wednesdays; open 9:00 AM - 7:30 PM on weekdays, and 10:00 AM - 7:30 PM on weekends.

Address: Hacımimi Mah. Dibek Sk. 17/A Galata, Istanbul

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