He happened to pass Tosya, the city of friends, the land of saints. He loved to eat whatever was famous in place. He wanted to taste the rice before he visited the paddy fields. It was very different from what he ate before. When he asked that to the master, he replied; “We do it by pouring rice into the water, without roasting it” How are those little rice grains getting bigger and bigger without sticking to each other? The fertile soil that is irrigated by the Devrez creek, a branch of Kizilirmak River, was giving the answer. He coincided perhaps the most laborious time of rice cultivation, the waterlogged times. The fields were filled with water, like a lake, but with the clouds, creating a magnificent symmetry. The paddy that was planted would absorb water, come into ear, and after harvesting it would be grinded and become the famous Tosya rice.