Publication Year: 2025, Issue #9
I frustratingly wrestle with the stubborn corner of the clingy plastic wrap, sticking to the box of Turkish Delight and then to the static of my hand. Eventually, I peel it away and open the lid of the box. Salih and I always bring a few hexagonal-shaped boxes of our favorite brand (Hacı Bekir) back from Türkiye to the States to share with friends. We bring home boxes filled with coconut, walnut, and hazelnut delights, but pistachio is always our favorite. Arranged on a plate, they pair perfectly with steaming glasses of Turkish tea, the warmth of the tea complementing the sweetness of the confections.
Every time we share Turkish Delight, known as lokum in Türkiye, with friends, there’s always one person who says, “This is good, but I wouldn’t sell out my family for it.” For those unfamiliar, this line references The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, where C.S. Lewis describes Turkish Delight so decadently that Edmund, a main character, betrays his siblings just for a bite. Now, while the marketing power of Lewis might have set your expectations sky-high, hear me out: if you take into account the social and historical context of the time, you might just be tempted to sell out your own family, too. Alright, maybe I’m pushing it a bit, but for all sorts of reasons, Turkish Delight carries far more significance than you might expect.
Freshness Meets Flavor
To start, not all lokum is created equal, far from it. The name itself comes from the Arabic rahat-ul hulküm, meaning "comfort for the throat" or "morsel," but its quality can vary greatly. Freshness is everything, and personal preference even more so. You won’t catch me reaching for anything lemon or rose-flavored, but hand me a buffalo cream-filled and kadayif-rolled lokum from Lokum Atölyesi, or a sumac-dusted pomegranate jewel from Marsel Delights, and I’m all in. With hundreds of flavors to choose from, finding your match is key. Saying you don't like ice cream after trying just one flavor, like mint chocolate chip, would be silly, it simply means you need to explore more flavors or different styles of making it. Also, let’s talk texture because lokum is essentially the love child of gummy bears and jelly beans. If that’s your kind of candy, you’re already halfway to enjoying lokum. But if that texture isn’t your thing, it might be a tougher sell.
The reality is that most people have likely never tasted the real thing. Before moving to Türkiye, my only encounters with lokum involved prepackaged cubes so heavy on the cornstarch and powdered sugar that one deep breath could make you cough. Nothing compares to stepping into a proper lokum shop, where rows of confections gleam behind the glass bar, waiting to be snipped into bite-sized bliss with kitchen shears. The lokum is fresh, pillowy, and worlds away from the dusty stuff in a box.
The Role of Lokum in the World of Narnia
When we step back into C.S. Lewis’s world and his mention of lokum in The Chronicles of Narnia, we must consider the historical landscape of the time. Written by a British author during the throes of World War II, the novel emerged in an era when sugar was strictly rationed, and confections were a rare indulgence. Beyond mere scarcity, there lingered a deep-seated fascination with the fabled East: a land of silks, spices, and sweets beyond imagination. In a time shadowed by air raids, loss, and uncertainty, such distant realms offered an escape. It is no wonder, then, that Edmund not only selects lokum as his treat of choice but also devours it with reckless hunger, seeking warmth and comfort amidst the biting cold of Narnia’s endless winter.
Adding to its mystique, lokum arrived in Britain as an exotic import from Türkiye, where its intricate preparation had been mastered by Turkish confectioners alone. As Cara Strickland notes in her article, Why Was Turkish Delight C.S. Lewis’s Guilty Pleasure?, this confection was likely first crafted by Ottoman palace artisans, designed to please the refined palates of sultans. Though composed of only a few simple ingredients (sugar, water, cornstarch, fruit/floral syrups, etc), its creation required both time and expertise, an artisanal process not easily replicated. Thus, in war-torn Europe, lokum remained a rare and costly indulgence, its scarcity and allure the kind of prestige modern luxury brands could only dream of. As one of the first consumer packaged goods (CPG) food products, lokum was among the earliest treats to be packaged, sold in a ready-to-eat form, and shipped from distant lands to eager consumers.
All in all, as someone who frequently hunts down and transports our favorite lokum from Türkiye to share with friends and family, please don’t dismiss the gesture with the infamous line, "I wouldn’t betray my family for this." Now, armed with a little more context about the treat's significance, I say if the flavor isn’t your thing, try a different variety or brand. I’ll list my favorites below (they all ship worldwide). And if that still doesn’t do the trick, your next best bet is to book a ticket to Türkiye to try it fresh. That’s my preferred method, hah!
If you are Türkiye, Tuğba is a great option. I don’t think they ship globally.



Do Turkish People Eat Turkish Delight?
You bet! Throughout Türkiye and the broader Middle East, lokum is a cherished part of these festive gatherings, offering a taste that evokes nostalgia and togetherness. While it was originally crafted in the Ottoman era as a delicacy for sultans, it has since become a household essential, commonly served alongside Turkish tea or coffee as a gesture of hospitality.
Another important aspect of lokum in Türkiye is its connection to the two major Islamic holidays, known as bayrams. The first, Kurban Bayramı (Eid al-Adha), is known as the "Festival of Sacrifice," while the second, Şeker Bayramı (also called Ramazan Bayramı, or Eid al-Fitr), is often referred to as the "Sugar Feast" because of its tradition of celebrating with sweets. Şeker Bayramı marks the end of the holy month of Ramazan, a time of fasting and spiritual reflection. During these celebrations, it is a long-standing tradition to serve lokum and other confections, such as baklava, to guests, family, and neighbors who come to visit.
As Ramazan 2025 just began, I’d like to extend my heartfelt wishes for a peaceful and joyous month to all who observe. Hayırlı Ramazanlar!
Sure, some folks make it at home, but for me? I leave it to the experts. But if you're feeling adventurous, here’s a tutorial from Refika Birgul to guide you. By the way, her YouTube channel is great for all things Turkish food!
For a deeper dive into Turkish desserts, be sure to check out Mary Işın’s book Sherbet and Spice: The Complete Story of Turkish Sweets and Desserts. In it, she explores a range of treats, from baklava and rice pudding to sherbet and fondant—each rooted in the rich culinary traditions of Ottoman-era Türkiye.
Well written! Your grandfather was in love with the delicacy you have described. Apricot/ nut was his favorite and he ordered it from a catalog. I have to say for my own taste a chocolate cream is the winner.
I do admit that the way you describe the flavor and texture makes me want to give it another try. Love you and your words. Gram
We fell in love with Turkish delight when visiting Istanbul and having never had any before, it's been so disappointing not to find the 'real' stuff anywhere else. Guess we need to plan a trip back to Turkey!