Snacking in Serbia

Puneetinder Kaur Sidhu

There is no better, nor more delicious, a way to acquaint with the history of a region than its food. I have found that a good look at its traditional cuisine generally serves as a quick refresher about cultural collisions of the past. It was no different on a visit to Serbia a couple of years ago. Mornings in this Balkan nation begin with a savoury baked pastry called burek. Variously filled with cheese or minced meat, this Anatolian influence is washed down with watery yoghurt. Even though it is the first meal of choice of most Serbs, the flaky burek is eaten warm at any time of day. Its unmatched popularity has led to a commemorative festival in its honour. Burek Day comes around in August or September and is hosted in the city of Nis. This is where the pastry also came to be baked in its defining round shape for the first time. Less than two decades old, the festival draws bakers from across Europe to display their pastry-making skills. Both the largest and smallest bureks of the world are said to have been prepared here, with a beer-cap serving as the latter’s baking pan!

That Serbia unabashedly loves its animal protein was amply evident within a few hours of my arrival. This revelation continued to hold good throughout my stay as I encountered all manner of grilled, fried, barbecued, pulled, smoked and cured meat at every bite. The traditional appetizer is a sausage and cured meat-laden mezze platter. Olives, fresh vegetables, ajvar (roasted pepper relish) and kajmak (a kind of cream cheese) fill up the leftover space. Accompanying this is cabbage salad and freshly baked pogacha, the unleavened bread that no Balkan meal is complete without. Alongside the Karadjordjeva snicla, a kajmak-filled, rolled schnitzel, I came to relish the minced meat kebabs called cevapi, grilled to perfection and served with a side of onions. Another Serbian favourite I came to enjoy on the go was the ubiquitous pljeskavica, a ground mixed meat patty mostly served in a bread pocket. Serbs love their beans nearly as much as they do meat. Households fashion them into soups, salads, and homey dishes like the winter staple prebranac, a baked casserole. The sarma soup took a little getting used to but by the time I left I had slurped my way through countless bowls of these meat-filled sour cabbage rolls dunked in bean soup.

Knedle is another Serbian favourite found on menus in cafes across Belgrade, the capital city. It can be eaten as a dessert, a side or main dish. It also fills in for that snack those peckish moments demand. Of Austro-Hungarian origins, it was a particular favourite with Archduke Ferdinand, the heir apparent who never made it. His immense fondness for these potato plum dumplings did, however, result in a café named after him. In an interesting twist, it is located on a street that bears the name of Gavrilo Princip, the Serb responsible for halting his ascendency to the throne. He did, after all, shoot him dead and start the First World War. I recall sipping on an invigorating cup of thick Turkish coffee — served in practically every kafana (café) in the country — to help me better absorb this ironical nugget. The coffee is in itself a reminder of the indelible infusions that several centuries of Ottoman rule left in their wake.