In a little lane in the middle of the Čaršija, across from the famous ćevabdžinica Mrkva, and buregdžinica Bosna, is a tiny little door leading downstairs into pita heaven. Pita is the generic category word for any pastries made with a thin phyllo-like dough, with fillings like meat and onions, potatoes, cheese, cheese and spinach, zucchini and cheese and so forth. "Pita" literally translates as "pie" (or anything with a filling) It is also a word which conjures up for many people from the former Yugoslavia, but especially from Bosnia and Herzegovina, childhood memories of that sweet and savoury baking dough scent emanating from your mother's (or especially your grandmother's) kitchen as you played outside, and anxiously awaited the mad dash to the dining table when the pita was ready. Pita is eaten at any time of day, it is a breakfast, lunch, dinner and anytime food. You eat it at home, you eat it when you are out. It is cheap and it is delicious. It is also super greasy for the most part. Walking around Sarajevo, you will see, at all times of day, people sitting down to eat pita, or walking around with giant pieces of pita, wrapped in a piece of paper, in their hands. As my dear friend Peter Lippman said a few years ago, when describing this food of choice: "The main cuisine in Sarajevo is meat, bread, and paper. You see guys hanging out on the street with food in their hands. There is some meat, wrapped in some bread, and that's wrapped in paper. They eat it leaning over, so that the juice of the meat doesn't drip on their track suits. The paper is the most nutritious part." 
Each pita type has its own name: pita with potatoes is krompiruša, pita with spinach and cheese is called zeljanica, pita with just cheese is sirnica, and the most popular type is burek, made with a spicy meat filling. If the word 'burek' sounds familiar, it is because yes, indeed, the burek is a cousin of the Turkish börek, albeit with different ingredients, and sometimes different manners of preparation. Perhaps you might call burek and börek long-distance cousins:) Yesterday morning, my visting anthropologist friend and I went for breakfast to Buregdžinica Sać, my favourite buregdžinica in Sarajevo's center mainly because my friend said that: "my stay in Sarajevo will only be deemed fulfilling if I get my hands on some krompiruša." Some strong words about a potato pastry. However, once you arrive at Buregdžinica Sać, this mad desire for pita makes complete sense. The first thing to note about Sać is that the ladies who work there are amazing - really attentive, quick service, and they always remember you, even if you were there more than a year ago. (The latter was not the case for us, since, of course, my husband and I make a visit probably every 2 weeks or so). They will always strike up a conversation, share details of their day with you, and they are truly, sincerely and personally disappointed if you do not finish every morsel on your plate. Last time I brought guests to Sać, all the pita was just too much, but our dear waitress mentioned at least 3 times "I am really sad that you did not finish your pita. Was it any good? I just can't believe how poorly you ate." Only here can someone equate the quantity of food you eat with your moral worth - this is something instilled by our mothers from childhood on...But on to the pita. We both ordered krompiruša, one with and one without pavlaka. Pavlaka is basically sour cream, but it is runnier, smoother and tastier. And the pavlaka at Sać is some of the tastiest in the city.
All of the pita at Buregdžinica Sać is prepared in one particular way. And it is precisely this method of preparation which lends the restaurant both its name and the pita its supreme taste.
A sać is a essentially a metal dish (sometimes it is made of copper, sometimes it is tin, sometimes steel) with a metal lid. You place the ingredients or dish you want to prepare/bake (not just pita, but you can put meat, seafood, potatoes etc in the sać as well) in the sać. Then, in your stone oven (because, of course, all of us have stone ovens) you create a fire and let it burn down until there are only ashes remaining. It is then the sać (with its lid) that is buried in these ashes. The dish inside slow cooks from the heat of the ashes alone. There is no direct heat or flame applied. This way of cooking rocks, the food is really tasty, with every flavour presenting itself as more intense than you can imagine. Buregdžinica Sać, with its combination of preparation, as well as its fresh ingredients, is the best in the pita world of the Čaršija.
It should be mentioned that the pastry at Sać is probably the most impressive part of the pita dishes: it is super flaky and quite crispy, especially on the bottom of the pita, which is just slightly blackened from sticking to the bottom of the sać pan. The bottom, because of the sticking action has a little bit of a sweet taste. The potatoes inside the krompiruša are not overcooked, and have the right amount of pepper to add zest, but not to overpower the taste of delicious locally-grown potatoes. Potatoes in Bosnia generally are delicious, they are usually a golden yellow colour, firm, not much water in them, and truly can be said to "have a taste of their own," as opposed to many of the potatoes you get in North America or Western Europe. On a Saturday morning, Buregdžinica Sać was already crowded, with people waiting for the coveted few outside seats (Sać can probably only sit about 8-10 people inside, and that many outside). I see one tour guide in particular who often makes a point of bringing his tour groups for lunch here. Avoid these tour groups at all costs. If you want your pita immediately, without much commotion surrounding you, choose odd hours of the day to eat, such as early morning or early to mid afternoon. Do not come here at around 11 am, you won't get a seat. Overall, Sać gets more than two thumbs up. In fact, I still assert it is the best pita place in the entire city. However there is one small catch. If you want to eat pita at this buregdžinica, prepare to be tortured non-stop while you eat with some of the most low-quality Turkish pop music you can imagine blasting from two tiny speakers above the door. Luckily for us, the repertoire on a slow-going and hot Saturday morning was some mid 80s Sezen Aksu.
No comments:
Post a Comment