Food, glorious food

Last week's blog featured frequently asked questions about living here in Montenegro. I realise only belatedly that I forgot one that gets asked an awful lot: do I miss anything about the UK? Anything, that is, apart from a crushingly dull 9-5 job, rising knife crime, very expensive food and a hell of a lot of reality television.

What do I miss, then? My old friends. True, most of them had moved away from London to places I’d be unlikely to visit every week, but they were at least still in the UK. Friends, then. Friends, family and food.

Now I don’t mean that food is scarce in Montenegro. Trust me, there’s loads of it. Restaurant portion sizes are enormous, fruit and veg are so fresh they’ve just been growing a few minutes ago and the meat is generally of a quality unheard of in Blighty. There are, however, a few items you are unlikely to find in Montenegrin supermarkets. These are, in no particular order:

Cumin

Coriander

Indian spices

Thai spices

Coconut milk

British sausages

Bacon

Sweet chilli sauce

Stupid-flavoured crisps

Ben & Jerry’s

Big gooey US style cookies

Now the only one of these I actually miss is the sausages, because we import the spices ourselves and the rest can be nabbed over the border in Croatia, safely forgotten about without too much regret or made at home to a close enough standard. So there’s your answer: sausages.

It got me thinking, though – what do we get to enjoy here in Montenegro that others do not? Here, then, is a by no means definitive list of Montenegrin specialities that I might well miss were I ever to move back.

Kajmak

Kajmak is brilliant stuff. Sort of a cross between sour cream and cream cheese, it’s versatile and adaptable, coming in every bit as useful when making a cake as it is dropping it over chilli or spreading it on crackers. It should be available everywhere as a pantry staple.

Smokis

The easiest way to describe Smokis to those unfamiliar with them is to call them peanut flavoured Wotsits. I know, they sound disgusting. You eat one, screw your face up, and wonder what fiendish, nefarious do-badder could have come up with such a concoction. What is that taste? So you have another. And another. And despite not really liking them, 5 minutes later you discover you’ve eaten a family-sized bag of the things. They are seriously, ruiningly addictive.

Kefir

Runny, mild pro-biotic cross between buttermilk and yoghurt. Great over muesli, excellent in pancakes and scones and a good way to repair your tummy after all the meat and fish you'll be eating (see below).

Pasulj

This is a traditional Balkan bean stew with bits of meat in it, and one of the very few “ready” meals available in local supermarkets. Avoid this variant though on account of it being revolting – what you’re after is the home-made version. On a cold, wet day, there’s little tastier. Except sausages, of course.

Kulen

Now I’ve avoided mentioning prsut only because it’s hardly a Montenegrin invention, being popular all over the Balkans and in places every bit the equal to its more famous cousins from Parma or Serrano. Kulen, however, is decidedly Montenegrin, a spicy, fierce chorizo-like cold cut that puts to shame the twenty kinds of spam with which it is forced to share supermarket deli space.

Marinated carp

In the west, carp is more an ornamental than an eating fish – and granted, if carp is cooked badly, it’s dreadful. Smoked and marinated, however, it’s delicious. Plus, here in Montenegro it has the added bonus of being called “krap”, which is always worth a titter.

Cockta

Back in the 1970s, communist Yugoslavia didn’t always have access to expensive Western goodies like Coca-Cola. Instead, they made their own version, Cockta, which is still sold today throughout Montenegro. Coca-Cola’s flavour formula is of course a very closely guarded secret, so it was probably unreasonable to expect Tito’s top beverage scientists to get the taste even vaguely approximate, but it’s still quite surprising when you try your first Cockta just how much it doesn’t taste even remotely like Coke. It’s more like Vimto, but less sugary. Odd, but actually quite refreshing on a hot day.

Vranac

Mmmmmmm. Vranac. Montenegro’s true gift to the world, this lovely, adaptable red wine is, frankly, superb. Oaked is best (kind of like a heavier rioja), but even young, home-made Vranac is perfectly acceptable table wine, and it generally costs less than 3 a bottle. Occasionally we do hanker after a Pinot Noir or a proper Rioja, but that’s just because we’re being fussy. Vranac is awesome, and the fact that so little of it is exported should tell you all you need to know. You hang on to the good stuff.

Of course, Montenegro’s home products can’t all be winners. In the interests of balance, here are few things I wish I hadn’t come across and which you won’t ever have to now that I’ve described them…

Puding

Freddy calls this custard. It isn’t. It’s sort of a cross between blancmange and really slimy creme brule, and you can eat it ready-made like a yoghurt or make it yourself by adding milk to a powder. It comes in brown, yellow, pink and red flavours and only has a discernible taste when you choose the vanilla variant. It’s rubbish.

Rastan

Sort of a cross between spinach, kale and cabbage, it’s used to make a snot-coloured stew that usually has bits of processed sausage floating in it. About as appetising as it sounds.

Dried fish

Usually ukljeva, or bleak, this is a Skadar Lake speciality. I’d only ever seen this sort of thing for sale in pet stores before. Accidentally pop some in your fridge like we did and the smell will linger for weeks. I've no idea what happens if you actually eat it. I've been too afraid to try.

And so to the build - wassap with that? Well, our slab is laid, and in between frequent showers our team have managed to get the forming boards up for the ground floor supporting walls.

Additionally, yesterday saw three trades all working harmoniously together as first fix electrics and plumbing were put in place prior to concreting.

There was - as often can happen - a brief interlude during the morning as we hurriedly had to replace our elected plumber (on account of him flouncing off in a huff for reasons too dull to go into here), but the ever efficient Imzo got on the phone and within the hour we had a substitute in place, a nice chap called Zare who even spoke a little German, aiding pipe placement no end. Sadly, it's now tipping it down again so the walls will have to wait a day or two...