I admire Adem’s nose. It makes a straight vigorous statement. I met him in Selçuk, a town on the Turquoise Coast. A few days prior to posing for this portrait, he opened his first business — this restaurant where he now stands. Next to him on a warm grill in cast iron pans he has arranged his cuisine, visible from the sidewalk through a window. It is common fare: rice, beans and eggplant with stewed meat; in lesser quantities potatoes and sweet peppers; on a cutting board close by two bowls hold fresh tomatoes intended for garnish. Always grown nearby, densely flavored, the tomato shows up everywhere in Turkey: grilled, boiled, stuffed, chopped in salads, and eaten as wedges with olives at breakfast.

I found Adem a bit dreamy. He was charming but a shade overconfident, the chef — apparently the creative one — nevertheless I became skeptical about his ability to persevere. I met and photographed his wife (the lady below, with the cryptic smile.) She seemed capable of counter-balancing her man’s weaknesses. She wore a crisp apron, had a focused mind and efficiently ran the shop while her husband chatted amiably with customers.