A weekend festival showcases the arts, culture and cuisine of the former Ottoman Empire.

I''ll admit it. The real reason I want to go to the Turkish Arts and Culture Festival this weekend--besides falling into a trance as I listen to Sahin Gunsel sing Turkish love songs while he plays the oud, tapping my feet and clapping my hands as I watch folk dancers in brightly colored costumes, and seeing what Turkish towns look like at the Orhan Coplu art exhibit--is to admire the belly dancers.

I love the sheer veils, sequined tops outlined with gold coins, finger cymbals and sinuous movements of this art form that began as a ritual dance representing childbirth in a region extending from Morocco to Turkey. Bellydancing loves women of all shapes, sizes and ages, as I discovered when I was a teenager. My mother took me to see the bellydancers at the Bazouki Lounge in Detroit''s Greektown. When a voluptuous blond from Minneapolis took the stage, one after another of the male audience members took $100 in singles and tossed them in homage over the dancer''s head as she rhythmically flexed her abdominal muscles. I recently learned that Turkish women dance among themselves for enjoyment as well. So, I feel no feminist pangs of guilt about liking bellydancing.

I also feel no guilt about sampling Turkish food made by women who learned to cook without cookbooks and measures. Amazingly, the chefs at the Topkapi Palace in Istanbul, the hub of the 600-year-old Ottoman Empire, operated on the same principle. When Empress Eugenie''s French chef arrived in the kitchens with paper and measures, seeking an eggplant puree recipe for his sovereign, an Ottoman chef promptly threw him out. The Ottoman said, "An Imperial chef cooks with his feelings, his eyes, his nose." So, the empress never ate Turkish food again, unlike the fortunate souls who will attend the Turkish Festival.

Among the succulent menu offerings at the festival are doner kebap, slices of ground lamb seasoned with garlic that resemble Greek gyros and Levantine shwarma; adana kebap, ground lamb meatballs seasoned with garlic, onion, cumin, and red pepper (if the chef comes from southern Turkey); and borek--buttery phyllo crust pie filled with creamy cheese and spinach. Of course there are dolmas, grape leaves stuffed with rice and seasoned with mint; musakka, baked slices of layered eggplant in tomato sauce; and kisir--cracked wheat salad with parsley, tomato, and onion and lemon/oil dressing.

Other Turkish delicacies to be sampled will be cucik, yogurt and garlic sauce, which goes well with the doner kebap; piyaz--white kidney bean salad seasoned with parsley, dill, mint, and onion and topped off with lemon/oil dressing; and Shepherd salad, a tomato, onion and cucumber dish made with the freshest vegetables available. For dessert there''s baklava, a phyllo pastry made with ground walnuts and honey. And finally, the traditional ending to a proper Turkish meal--a cup of strong coffee. When you''ve drained the last drop, turn the cup upside down and let Ilge Ozersen read your fortune in the grounds remaining in the cup.

Don''t miss this chance to view Turkish art on display, such as beautiful Arabic calligraphy, which enhanced a word''s meaning. Calligraphers also used their skill to decorate religious manuscripts with flowers and geometric shapes. The Hadith, the collected sayings of Mohammed, prohibited the use of the human form in religious manuscripts to prevent idolatry. There are also illuminated manuscripts featuring gold gilding (Turkish artists painted gold onto their works rather than embossing it as in Europe); tapestries (decorations include figures such as sultans, flowers and Mosque motifs); ebru (paper marbling); and, of course, carpets.

Since time immemorial, anonymous women weavers have made Turkish carpets one of the world''s premier art forms. One-of-a-kind carpets carry tribal symbols, the guls, that vary in the same way as Scottish tartans do. The weavers vary tone and minute details to create movement among the repeating shapes on the predominantly red carpets. With art work like this on their floors, the Turks naturally remove their shoes before entering a home. Festival-goers can also view silk prayer rugs decorated with a mihrab, the Mosque niche that points in the direction of Mecca, and a lamp that represents Allah.

The Turkish Festival, lovingly presented by the nonprofit Turkish American Association of California, offers many other delights not to be missed, including a children''s tent with folk dancing, face painting and storytelling. A percentage of the festival proceeds will be donated to the Monterey Chapter of the Red Cross in appreciation of its support of earthquake victims in Turkey.

No trip to the Turkish Festival would be complete without knowing a little bit about Turkey''s wise fool country priest, Nasreddin Hoca. In one story, Hoca was discussing the completeness of creation with a friend during a walk. Hoca said, "I think horses would have been much more useful to mankind if they had wings." Just then, some pigeon droppings fell on Hoca''s turban. "Allah knows best," he observed.

The 3rd annual Turkish Arts and Culture Festival, Saturday and Sunday, 11am-6pm, Custom House Plaza, adjacent to Fisherman''s Wharf. Admission is free. For more information, contact Ilge Ozersen at 648-9350 or visit www.taaca.org.