Ajvar for beginners

While the casual observer may note that 'fall is not actually here yet,' quite a few grandmothers are already preparing for a fall ritual that can only be described as crazy or delicious or sickening. Or torturous. No really. A nightmare. For all those involved, especially the 'lucky' children picked to be 'assistants' to the wise old cook. The late summer early fall red pepper harvest in the countries of the former Yugoslavia means only one thing: ajvar. For those not in the know, ajvar (from the Turkish word havyar, meaning caviar - but more on this later) is a delicious sometimes sweet, sometimes spicy roasted red pepper spread that everyone enjoys, but particularly with grilled meat, or smoked meat, or as one of the assorted meze on the table which can often include sheep cheese, hard cheese, olives and the like. Ajvar-making is not only a fall ritual throughout the region, but often a cause for great debate. Who makes the best ajvar? Traditionally, the answer is the Macedonians.

When I was buying home-made ajvar (which I found to be delicious) at a market in Prijedor this summer, a woman walked up to me and scoffed. She continued "my mother is Macedonian, I never buy this stuff. I only make it at home." Leave it to us to think that your genetic makeup makes you predestined for something :) But, certainly, people take their ajvar seriously. From handpicking the red peppers that go into it, roasting in a particular way on a particular fire, and - very importantly - making sure there is just the right quantity and quality of garlic that gives the spread its bite. Legend has it that, when caviar production declined severely in the Adriatic region in the 19th century, urban elites all over the region demanded a substitute. In particular, it was very important that the substitute have the colour and aesthetics of red salted roe. And so ajvar was born. I'm not sure how exactly how and why people thought that roasted red pepper spread resembled red caviar, but hey, I never believe most Balkan legends anyway.
For those who are interested in making this dish at home - and, believe me, once you start, the whole process is quite addictive, here is a simple but quite delicious recipe. The key, I think, is really the appropriate roasting of the peppers, getting them roasted enough (but not burnt) to emphasize the pepper skin's sweetness.


My version of ajvar

* 8-12 fresh red peppers (mild or medium-hot, to taste)
* 4 medium-size eggplants
* 1/2 to 3/4 cup olive oil
* 1 large onion, minced
* 1/2 of a head of garlic, at least 6 cloves, chopped
* 1 to 2 tablespoons lemon juice (or 1 tablespoon red wine vinegar)
* salt and pepper to taste
* Chopped fresh parsley for garnish

Roast the peppers and eggplants (ideally) over charcoal or a gas flame, or bake them in a preheated 475 F oven, until the skin is blistered and quite darkened. Place the roasted vegetables in a paper bag and let them steam in their own heat for 10 minutes. Then let the peppers cool. If you want to do the roasting a day ahead, you can put the peppers into Ziploc bags and into the freezer - the skin peels much in a much easier fashion if you freeze them first. Peel off and discard the burnt skin along with the stems and seeds. Mash the peppers and eggplant pulp together to form a rough texture, with a fork or food processor.
Heat 3 tablespoons of oil in a large skillet and saute the onion until very soft. Add garlic and cook for 2 more minutes. Remove from the heat and stir in the pepper-eggplant pulp, mixing well. Slowly drizzle the remaining oil into the mixture, stirring constantly to incorporate all of the oil, while heating over a very low flame. Add lemon juice or vinegar, and salt and pepper, to taste. Transfer to a serving bowl and mix in fresh parsley.

Of course, if you are lazy (as people often are), and don't have access to good Macedonian ajvari, here are some generic brand recommendations, all of which you can regularly find on the shelves here in Sarajevo. My favourite generic canned ajvar is the hot one from Podravka (don't even try the mild, it's horrible). The hot is not actually that hot. In second place, is the mild or hot versions from Vitaminka. Solid. Lastly, Vegy - well, not really because it's particularly tasty, but it's an ambitious and homegrown Bosnian company that is starting out with food production, and doing quite well. Support local products!