Photo by Liz Seabrook
There is a poignant word — taga — that Irina Janakievska introduces us to at the beginning of this utterly compelling book. It denotes, she writes, “a sorrow, a yearning, a love for a person, a time, a place” and while this is what lies behind The Balkan Kitchen, Janakievska has built on this to create, with skill and clarity, an unsentimentally joy-studded testament to this “mutable region” and to the memories and connections that make food enduringly meaningful to all of us, too.
It’s a beautiful and important book, and also a glorious invitation to cook from a cuisine at the crossroads of a rich diversity of cultures. “In simplistic and practical terms,” she writes, “the Balkans lie in South-East Europe, between the Adriatic Sea in the north-west, the Black Sea in the north-east, and the Aegean Sea in the south. As to the northern land border, some would argue that this is marked by the Danube River up to Vienna…The scope of this book is, for practical reasons, limited to the area comprising the former Yugoslavia, with the occasional glance and descriptive overspill towards the rest of the Balkans (and sometimes further afield) to give clarity to the influences on the cuisine….[which] remains woefully unexplored and misunderstood.”
I can’t reduce the complexity of the subject matter to a handful of recipes, but this is a cookbook, after all, and I want to give you an indication of the food you (if you’re anything like me) will want to cook from it! I shall start by telling you about Soparnik, an open-faced pie with the allure of a pizza, and next, Grandma’s Savoury Cake, a vegetable, cheese and herby cornbread, and the last recipe Janakievska’s grandmother, the starting point of this book, wrote down for her shortly before her death and which bore the message “Grandma loves you. Don’t be scared, I’m sure you will succeed.” “I have always felt, and will always feel” writes Janakievska, “that she was writing for me more than just a recipe for savoury cake, but rather her last piece of advice for me — her recipe for the rest of my life.” But there’s more I want to bring to your attention, and I will move briskly now: the poppyseed pastries Milibrod; herby, cucumber and yogurt Tarator; Aubergines [Eggplant] in Walnut Sauce; Meatball Soup; Klepe, meat-filled ravioli-type dumplings with a garlic-yogurt sauce and paprika butter; a fabulous dish of Chicken and Rice (“our equivalent of a Sunday roast”); Venison with Quince and Cranberries; the seafood stew, Brodet; the emblematic custard slice, Blejska Kremšnita; Chocolate Baklava; and Plum Knedli, or potato-dough dumplings, to be eaten topped with melted butter and breadcrumbs.
I fear I haven’t left room to tell you about the pickles and drinks, and so much besides, but I heartily commend this book to you. And from it, the recipe I’m happily sharing with you today is a Balkan breakfast dish, Apples in Šlafor, gorgeous fritters whose name enchantingly translates as Apples in Dressing Gowns!
The Balkan Kitchen by Irina Janakievska (Quadrille, £27).
Photos by Liz Seabrook.
