Don’t Leave Me: Çi/Mezetaryen, Kaş-Antalya & Mamagoto, Paris
Very few restaurants dare to build a relationship with their guests that goes beyond the polite routine or rhetoric of “How do you do? Did you enjoy it? Was everything fine?” They manage to be warm yet respectful, close but never intrusive. That is not easy at all.
Can a restaurant owner or a chef really approach a guest with genuine confidence, without making them wonder what he is trying to hide? Can they even sit at table?
Mamagoto in Paris and Mezetaryen in Kaş, Antalya, are two places that have succeeded in doing exactly that. They turn a meal into something entirely different. In these restaurants, you are not just a customer. You are a guest.
There have been only a few times in my life when I truly felt like a guest instead of a customer. Two of those experiences remain unforgettable. Both are connected to my son, which probably explains why they have stayed with me so clearly.
Mamagoto, Paris
Hikmet who is my son was six years old. We were in Paris.
We usually took him to a simple place first, like a pizzeria, to make sure he ate before we went to the restaurant we wanted. While we were eating, he would quietly draw. He was never loud or disturbing to anyone. He always had his tablet for emergencies, but he rarely needed it.
Paris is expensive, and the restaurants we wanted to visit were even more so. We tried to keep the cost around forty fifty euros per person and allowed ourselves a one-hundred-euro dinner every few days because, after all, it was Paris. At that time, the exchange rate between the Turkish lira and the euro was about two. Yes, just two! Today, it is fifty! What a terrifying change. My country’s currency has lost twenty-five times its value. I hope someone is keeping track of how much poorer we have become.
We were standing in front of Restaurant Pizzeria La Villa Andrea, 109 Boulevard de Magenta, just below Gare du Nord, at the entrance to the street where Chez Michel is located. Hikmet would probably order a four-cheese pizza and an orange juice or a Fanta. With our coffees, it would come to around fifteen euros.
But then he turned back and said, “I don’t want pizza.”
“Alright,” I replied. “What do you want, then?”
As I checked the map to see what was nearby, I asked, “Burger? Spaghetti?” We were actually close to the restaurant where we had our reservation for that evening, so I was trying to find something in the area. “There is also spaghetti here,” I said.
“No,” he answered and started walking down the boulevard. “Where are you going?”
“I want to eat the kind of food you eat,” he said.
He walked in the direction we had come from. Would he really eat that kind of food? Would he like it?
By chance, that night we had a reservation at Mamagoto, the restaurant of the Japanese chef Koji Tsuchiya, who cooked French cuisine through a Japanese sensibility. It was not a complicated or showy fusion that layered one cuisine over another, but rather a French cuisine subtly transformed by Japanese influence. I mean it is not too complicated food, I hope!
There was still an hour before our reservation, but before I could ask if he could wait, Hikmet said, “Let’s go now. Maybe they are open.” Our son was growing up, and I should face that the bill would grow with him.
That evening, Mamagoto turned out to be exactly the right place.
We enjoyed everything we ate, but what amazed us most was watching our son eat one dish after another with complete delight.
While we were still finishing our starters, he ordered a second portion of the pea dish he loved. I admit, I did briefly calculate how many pizzas that might equal. No! Mamagoto was not an expensive restaurant. On the contrary, it offered remarkable flavor for its price. It was never a place that tried to compete with a pizzeria, yet I found myself comparing them all the same.
The real surprise, however, came when Guillaume Cazier, one of the three pillars of Mamagoto and the person responsible for service and the dining room, sat next to Hikmet without hesitation. He talked with him, drew pictures with him, and made him laugh. While we ate our meal in peace, they played beside us. Guillaume occasionally gave him little “tasks,” went away for a while, and then came back. It felt like a game.
Shellfish Bowl with Wine Sauce, Çi Neo Cucina by Mezetaryen
I wondered if Guillaume, like Tsuchiya who had trained under Pascal Barbot, might have learned from someone like Christophe Rohat how to understand people’s desires and needs and communicate through that understanding. But probably not. These things cannot really be taught. You simply have to be that kind of person, someone who can connect with others and make both children and adults feel like true guests.
Sadly, Mamagoto has closed.
I wish I could go there again with Hikmet.
Perhaps one day, who knows. If it returns, Thomas Loustau will announce it anyway! Hope he will return anyway…
Mezetaryen: A True Chef’s Restaurant in Kaş
By the time Hikmet turned ten, the pandemic had just subsided. We were in Kaş, a small coastal town in Antalya, and we were going out for dinner.
Back then, Mezetaryen was a small and charming terrace overlooking the main square, with Simge Güngörer as chef. Hikmet was sitting in a corner reading From the Earth to the Moon by Jules Verne. He was no longer as calm as before and got bored easily. “Can we finish soon?” he would say about almost everything.
Grilled Lamb Loin with Caramelized Celery Purée, Çi Neo Cucina by Mezetaryen
He liked food but not with the same curiosity he once had at Mamagoto. He preferred simple, fast meals, like most children. Mezetaryen, on the other hand, chased more layered flavors, though not in a complicated or overly eclectic way. The dishes were built from a few carefully chosen ingredients. Offal was at the heart of it.
Hikmet did not miss the shellfish bowl and ended his dinner with grilled lamb loin, though he would have been happier without the celery purée.
Children usually love purées, especially mashed potatoes. They are easy to eat, smooth, and comforting. But Hikmet never liked them. He does not like potatoes in general, not even fries, except for patatas bravas. He avoids anything that feels like a purée.
He left the purée on the plate and finished quickly.
We, however, were still enjoying our starters: lamb “green brain” with pesto, basil and parsley sauce, sweetbread pâté on sourdough Afyon bread, and the most delicious “Arnavut Ciğeri” let’s say, Albanian-style liver. Then came the artichoke confit and grilled baby squid. We still had a long way to go, but Hikmet was getting impatient.
Just when I hoped the cats wandering around might keep him busy, Tolga Manacıoğlu appeared. He was the co-founder and head of service. Like Guillaume in Paris, Tolga immediately connected with Hikmet. He talked with him about his book, his favorite football team, and the cats. Suddenly, our dinner became easier, calmer, and much more pleasant.
We liked almost everything we ate…
Grilled Baby Squid, Çi Neo Cucina by Mezetaryen
Sweetbread Pâté on Sourdough Afyon Bread, Çi Neo Cucina by Mezetaryen
Time passed.
It is now 2025, and Hikmet is fourteen. We returned to Kaş and visited their new restaurant, Çi neo cucina by Mezetaryen.
Hikmet sat at the other end of the table, making his own choices now. He still prefers simple and quick dishes, and this time he chose Arnavut Ciğeri (Albanian liver) and grilled fillet. He liked them both. When they just finished, he went for a walk with his friends in the town center. There is no one left at the table drawing pictures anymore.
Çi has grown. The space is bigger, the kitchen larger, the menu longer and more refined. The quality and flavor remain unchanged. That is no small achievement in a country where conditions have worsened so much in just three years.
Grilled Lamb Kokoreç, Çi Neo Cucina by Mezetaryen
Their supply network has also improved. The salted yogurt was excellent. It deserves more attention. If I were in the kitchen, I would say, “You’ve found something wonderful: Not enough for what?”
We were a large group and tried many things this time: grilled lamb kokoreç, cured amberjack, shrimp risotto and raw shrimp, lionfish, breaded offal, beef cheek ragout. Everything was good. None of the dishes disappointed us.
Lionfish, Çi Neo Cucina by Mezetaryen
Shrimp Risotto and Raw Shrimp, Çi Neo Cucina by Mezetaryen
Of course, there is always room to refine, like the new mixed shellfish bowl. Perhaps Simge was tired of the old version, but she should bring it back. Three years ago, there was no other dish in Turkey like that one, simple, pure, and rooted in tradition. I belive there still isn’t, almost! Sometimes there is no need to search for something better.
But Simge knows, as always, that better is possible and keeps striving for it.
Arnavut Ciğeri (Traditional Albanian-Style Fried Liver), Çi Neo Cucina by Mezetaryen
Urla Artichoke Confit with Lacto-Fermented Fruits, Çi Neo Cucina by Mezetaryen
My only concern is whether all this effort is rewarded as it should be. Is she satisfied? Emotional fulfillment and admiration are not enough on their own. That is the reality. Running a restaurant in today’s Turkey is difficult. Running one like Çi is even harder especially at Kaş. I hope they can endure it.
From Paris, where even Koji Tsuchiya chose to return home, to Kaş, where life’s difficulties continue, I think about endurance and already imagine the next form of Mezetaryen taking shape.
Çi Neo Cucina by Mezetaryen
Andifli, Uğur Mumcu Cd. no:23, 07580 Kaş/Antalya, Türkiye
www.cineocucina.com
Total 9/10
Food 9/10
Service 9/10
Comfort & Ambiance 9/10
Value for money 9/10
Price per person 50 €
A memo about Mamagoto:
5, Rue des Petits Hôtels, 75010 Paris, France
Chef: Koji Tsuchiya, Founders: Thomas Loustau, Guillaume Cazier
In the 10th arrondissement of Paris, Mamagoto was one of those rare restaurants that left a quiet but lasting impression despite its short life.
Japanese chef Koji Tsuchiya began his culinary journey in 2003 at the Kobe Kitano Hotel in Japan. He moved to Paris at the end of 2008 and joined the three-star L’Astrance in January 2009. After a few other experiences in French kitchens, he met Thomas Loustau and became head chef at Loustau’s restaurant, Chez Graff.
The trust and friendship they built there would later give birth to Mamagoto.
Mamagoto blended the discipline of classic French cooking with the quiet clarity of Japanese sensibility. Each dish sought balance without words — a balance of fat, salt, heat, and silence.
Under Koji Tsuchiya’s direction, the kitchen spoke softly. The focus was on flavor, texture, and restraint rather than display. A simple yet profound plate of squid, spinach, peas, and a soft egg; fresh burrata with lemon and pear — nothing forced, everything precisely balanced.
In the dining room, Guillaume Cazier welcomed every guest with unhurried warmth. Thomas Loustau shaped the atmosphere of the place — plain wood, gentle light, a quiet sense of grace.
Mamagoto was not a restaurant that sought attention, but one that had a soul.
Opened in 2016, Mamagoto earned a Michelin Bib Gourmand in its first year, praised for its elegant balance between quality and price. Though it received no further major awards, its name lingered in Paris as a quiet memory of refinement.
The restaurant closed about a year ago. When chef Koji Tsuchiya decided to return to Japan, the team chose not to continue without him. Today the space is silent, but for those who remember it, Mamagoto still lives on — in the warmth of its modest plates and the calm it left behind.
