My French breakfast of grilled zucchini and eggplant, melted cheese, and white coffee sat light in my tummy as I wandered through a Slovenian Easter market with Marta. My teal cowboy boots caught a few stares, as I looked around the market like a child in a toy shop – it was foodie heaven. There were fresh veggies, gourmet olive and pumpkin oils, homemade schnapps, brandies, and sherries, hand-kneaded breads…and the stalls had samples! Better than Costco on a Saturday morning! What luck!
I grinned and went around trying everything. The vendors were so friendly; a Slovenian woman who’d written a cookbook for children on how to cook healthy Slovenian food demonstrated a few of her bread-making tricks for me. I tried tiny bites of cheeses, olive oils, breads, and sausages, which seemed to glide down well with a bit of homemade sherry. After buying a bit of pumpkin oil and dodging the rain, Marta and I made our way down the riverside to the sound of a traditional Slovenian quartet. Marta felt the singer sounded a bit too sweet, haha, but the appeal was there nonetheless.
When the sun emerged from its coat of clouds, we basked in all its glory, taking a hike up to the castle on the hilltop. When we made our way back down, we sat for hours by the river, talking over coffee and soaking up rays. Later on, Marta’s Serbian friend, who’s studying here in Ljubljana, joined us. We discussed the differences between the former Yugoslavian cultures, American culture, and Hungarian culture, learning a lot about each other in the process. I am woefully ignorant about the former Yugoslavic culture, traditions, and history, and couldn’t have enjoyed my afternoon immersion more. We sated our hunger with Ćevapčići (a mixed meat), served with onions, lepinja (a delicious Bosnian flat bread), and kajmak (a creamy cheese). They enjoyed a drink of yogurt with their meal, while I tried Sarajevsko, a Bosnian beer. The restaurant, Sarajevo ‘84, had such atmosphere! It was homage to the Yugoslavia Olympics of 1984, with Bosnian sayings, old pictures, and team memorabilia on the wall. A documentary captured my attention as it gave me a glimpse of the former Yugoslav states’ pride.
As usual, the dessert on the menu caught my eye. Tufahija, a Bosnian dessert of baked apple, cored with nut paste and topped with creamy peaks and a red candied cherry, delighted my sweet tooth! It was both sweet, healthy, nutty, and crunchy. The perfect balance of sweet and savory, even the youngest Bosnian has mastered eating tufahija neatly without a knife; I was no master – but definitely a lover. When the last bite was savored, we leisurely walked along the river to the car, the night alight with twinkling lights and street music, and got ready for a night of Irish dancing in Slovenia!
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