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Loas Markets

29/8/2016

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​The first thing that hits you when you wander into one of Laos markets is the smell; the pungent aroma of fish sauce, for me, will forever be synonymous with Southeast Asian bazaars. Added to this, an olfactory fusion of garlic, frying shrimp paste, spices, chilli, mango, coconut, honey and fresh herbs and your senses are overwhelmed. 
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​Meat and fish form a large part of Laotians diet, in the market your dinner couldn’t get much fresher (if a tad unhappy) with cages full of ducks and chickens. Plastic sinks and concrete tanks writhe with Catfish and Tilapia, traders dipping nets in and trying to contain the flapping, protesting catch on archaic weighing scales before tipping the ill-fated fish into a plastic bag. Breathing purchases are not just limited to everyday livestock; frogs, lizards, crickets, cicadas and even some very unlucky rodents are lined up in boxes for the more exotic Lao tea-times. No part of an animal is wasted in Laos, women meticulously pick the meat from a pig’s ribcage while the trotters and snouts are piled high. Piles of tripe are folded carefully for sale alongside severed buffalo hooves and entire pig’s heads. A woman cuts slices from a huge plastic bowl containing bright red congealed blood, as always the butchers section is not for those with weak stomachs!
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​Colourful canopies of overlapping parasols and awnings shade the piles of fruit and vegetables from the strong Laos sunshine, creating a rainbow of light over an already vibrant display of lychees, passion fruit, strawberries, cherries, oranges and apples. The midday heat starts to hit the stall holders busy since dawn and women doze head-down on piles of cabbages or snooze stretched-out on loungers next to their flapping fish stand. 
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​The Laos snack-of-choice, fried pigskin, is portioned in bags sitting alongside rows of mystery powders, dried plants, obscure berries and roots and clear bottles of unidentified liquids and oils. 
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​The market is not just a practical place for supply purchase, it’s the pulsating hub of the community, a place where livelihoods are made and the rewards of hard work are earnt. Families work together and friends catch up over coffee and noodles, children run between the stalls and young people meet on scooters. 
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​If all the browsing makes you hungry, every market has snack stalls serving endless portions of the ubiquitous noodle soup- a steaming bowl of clear chicken broth into which additions are ladled from plastic containers under the bench; fish balls, shredded chicken, spring onions, bean-sprouts, rice noodles, cabbage, fried garlic, chilli and fish sauce. It takes some skill to work the small ladle/chopstick combo but once mastered this dish is a delicious shop-stop and a healthy fast-food bargain at less than £1 a bowl. 
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Thali Time!

27/4/2016

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My hands-down (hands-in!) favourite feed in India was the Thali. These ‘set meals’ were always the best value and represented an assortment of typical, local food of the area, varying enormously between states and regions. Thali’s were always the most popular choice in cafes and restaurants so you were eating the freshest food, albeit often a mystery as to what would appear on the table in front of you. Thalis are incredible value, in Thokkilangadi, Kerala, we paid the equivalent of 45p for a Fish Thali, with as much as you could eat.
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The word ‘Thali’ can be translated directly as the Hindi word for ‘plate’ or ‘tray’, on which the set meal is served. The only choice you generally have is Veg, Fish or Non-Veg, with vegetarian being the most common. As everything is prepared and bubbling away in huge pots in the kitchen, your meal is presented in minutes.
The meal is like a colourful, symmetrical, work of art; sometimes the selection of curries and dahls are ladled into small, round, individual, metal bowls, sometimes piled carefully directly onto a round metal tray or banana leaf, occasionally into pre-formed plastic trays. On the side, pickles, chutneys, sauces, salad, salt, fresh chillies, onion and yoghurt raita are carefully placed. Some Thalis include a desert also, a tidy portion of syrupy Gulab Jamun, sweet semolina rice, ice-cream or sticky Jilabi.
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If you’re hungry, the Thali is a delight as once you’ve emptied one small bowl, it is re-filled; in busy restaurants men with narrow metal buckets filled with Sambar, Dahl and Curry fly round the floor ladling out top-ups to every table. Cutlery is not an option, locals expertly mix the components of the Thali together with deft fingers- food unanimously tastes better when eaten by hand.
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​Variations are endless, in the south rice is a more common accompaniment whereas breads feature more heavily in the north. Thali’s reflect the wide-ranging cuisine of the country, coconut-based down south with fish, and creamy, meaty curries in the north, every time is a surprise and a delight with no tough menu decisions to be made.
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South Indian Breakfasts

27/4/2016

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There is simply no better way to start your day in the South of India than feasting on one of the regions fresh, mouth-watering breakfasts. Roadside, beachside, village, town or city, tiny cafes, restaurants and street stalls churn out simple breakfast staples to a steady flow of hungry morning diners. Varying from a simple shack with a single steaming pan of Idli to a shiny modern canteen with a Dosa list as long as the monster pancakes themselves, breakfast is a meal not to be missed when in the southern states.
Dosas are thin pancakes made from fermented rice flour batter, they can be crispy and plain (Saada Dosa), stuffed with spicy potato curry (Masala Dosa), made with semolina flour (Rava Dosa), a pile of thick and fluffy dosas with lentils (Set Dosa) or white and watery (Neer Dosa). Flat, round, rolled-up, triangular or conical, the Dosa shape is often as diverse as its filling. The same rice flour batter is also used to make Uttapam, a thicker crepe that often has onion or tomato mixed in with the batter.
Ubiquitously served with fresh coconut chutney and Sambar, the chutney is often so fresh we once waited for the guy to climb a nearby palm tree to cut down the coconut to make it. Sambar is a watery, spicy lentil-based vegetable stew which is synonymous with south Indian dishes, dunking your Dosa or Idli into a small metal bowl of piping hot spicy liquid is a standard part of the breakfast routine. 
Idli are soft, white, steamed lentil rice cakes, like round fluffy pillows of deliciousness waiting to be dipped into fiery Samba and velvety coconut chutney. Vada are doughnut shaped fritters made from lentil or chickpea Dahl, deep fried so they are fluffy and light on the inside and golden and crispy on the outside. Sometimes served alongside Idli, they are also dipped in the universal Chutney and Sambar.

​With plates of Idli or Vada costing as little as the equivalent of 30p and a Dosa around 50p, breakfasts in the south were fast, fresh, inexpensive and utterly delicious, we miss them already!
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Useful Bits 'N' Bobs

30/7/2015

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Here is a summary of some of the minor pieces of equipment we carry that are so useful on a daily basis we now couldn’t imagine adventuring without them. At the start of any trip it’s difficult to know exactly what to take when you have limited space and budget but as this list of little gems proves, it’s often the most basic, cheap and unassuming objects which are the most ingenious, utilised and valued.

The Red Basket

A convenient containment of all those ‘things’ which are needed regularly every day; quick access to bread, tea-bags, soap, salt, pepper, chilli sauce (an Emma essential on all food), pegs, matches. It’s a place to quickly chuck those little random thingamajigs which are used too regularly to be stashed in a box but for which there are no specific ‘homes’. For those moments when one of you is waving an object confused and the other says “just stick it in the red basket”. Intended as a lightweight, foldable shopping basket, for us it’s a precious, practical storage of easily-grab-able stuff.

Pegless Elastic Washing Line

One simple metre of white, twisted elastic with hooks at either end. On a daily basis we use it to easily dry shower towels, damp socks or used tea-towels hung from the car, fence, tent or tree. Stretched out, it fits all socks and smalls on laundry day, saving our precious 12 pegs for the main line. For big laundry days we carry a 20 metre length of Paracord.

'Baby Legs' Torch

Our pet name for one of the single most useful objects we carry. Being LED, the batteries last for ages and the varying levels of brightness covers all needs (although yet to use the flashing red light setting!). In our pre-GoPro days we even super-glued a camera mount to the top of the torch and filmed drive-by shots from the bonnet. The magnetic feet are invaluable when working under the car or in the engine bay.

http://joby.com

Cargo Net

This hangs above the back seat area of the car above our boxes and tidily stashes our bulky jumpers, jackets and coats. This frees-up valuable box space yet keeps everything tucked compactly in the roof allowing a clear rear-view through the whole car. Hats, jumpers and jackets are easily grab-able when you need them.

Sticky Back Velcro

Sometimes the simplest solutions are the most effective and this is certainly the case with our sticky-back Velcro. The entire passenger side of the dash board is covered with the soft Velcro side so that a range of gadgets and items can be firmly, yet temporarily, fixed and easy to view. In all of our thousands of miles driving on bumpy-roads and unexpected pot-holes we have never had a single item fall off. Practical items such as the iPhone, GPS, iPod, pen holder and thermometer stick side-by-side with sentimental items such as our Lego Indie and various collectibles and coins from our travels. It also secures our GoPro remote control to the steering wheel.

SPOT Locator

Another gift from a mildly-anxious family member, this device allows us to send an ‘OK’ signal by pressing a button each evening from our camp. Working with GPS satellites, it doesn’t matter how remote we are, we don't have to rely on internet or mobile phone signals. Once we’ve pressed the ‘OK’ button, an email is sent to 10 people which contains a pre-written message declaring we're safe and having fun along with a google map link of our exact location. Most of the time our family has a better idea of where we are then we do thanks to this!

http://findmespot.com

Sink

Carrying everything but the kitchen sink? Take the sink. But make it a super-light, fast-drying, foldable and durable one like this. So incredibly handy for washing vegetables, dishes, clothes and bodies. Not all at the same time, but it’s possibly big enough if you needed to. Being black, if we fill from a glacial stream and stick it on our black car bonnet in the sunshine it heats the water up good too.

Knife, Fork and Spoon Set

This neat little basic, 3-piece cutlery set had followed me for 9 years on Middle Eastern expeditions before it even began its 800days stint and being Titanium it’s still immaculate. On long trips, it’s nice to have decent cutlery rather than food fumbling with battered, plastic bent forks and knives which can only just about cut butter. A splash out (obviously a gift!) as they’re not cheap but for us essential; they’re stronger than steel but only half the weight and come in a neat pouch to avoid losing a piece. 

https://www.lifeventure.co.uk/

Diesel Stickers

Simple idea, potential car lifesaver for those questionable translation moments when a petrol station attendant is about to fill up your precious tank with mystery fuel from an un-marked pump. 

http://www.touring-gear.com

Galileo Pro Maps App

Avid purists when it comes to navigating- preferring a beautiful, beaten up paper map to any technology robotically telling you to “turn right at the mosque”, this iPhone App has proved invaluable since we adopted it on our third departure. It’s perfect for navigating busy city’s and finding essential locations; embassies, banks, offices… pubs. We waypoint all our wild camps to share with other adventurers and it’s incredible how even the faintest, rarely-used donkey tracks are still marked on the opensource maps. We still get lost, but that’s part of the fun. The best part is it works completely off-line!

https://galileo-app.com

Key Lanyard

Never hear “where are the car keys!?!” again… if you’re camped up they’re hanging from this basic key lanyard on the rear-view mirror, out and about and the same item secures them to Andy’s belt as well as in his pocket. Security, peace-of-mind and multiple argument avoidance about who had them last.

Paper Fan

Never be short of breath again! Purchased from a Japanese tut 6 dirham shop in Dubai, this has saved many a faltering fire in rainy conditions and aided perfect, even cooking of chicken and chops on the BBQ (minus the spitting when trying to blow the fire). Andy has lovingly patched it on several occasions with Duck tape but it’s still going strong.

Sunglass Case Multi-holder

Fixed to the car interior with 2 self-tapping screws, this simple leather sunglass case acts as a home for small, easy-to-lose items such as pens and pencils which need to be at hand in the cockpit.

Thermometer

Extremely useful to help judge when you probably shouldn’t climb any higher to set up camp as the outside temperature is falling by the minute. An old supermarket fridge monitoring device, this little retro gauge continually informs us of both our outside and in-car temperatures. Probably more informative than actually useful as we tend to ignore it anyway, persuading ourselves that minus 2 is really OK to be sleeping on the roof. 

Torches

Clipped for easy reach and access, knowing exactly where your torch can be found whilst grappling in the dark is essential. This pocket-sized lamp is held in place by 2 spring clips fixed by 2 self-tapping screws into the front windscreen door post. No more torch-fumbling in the dark. My Grandma always said "a place for everything and everything in its place" and never is this as important as when you live in a car.

Vegetable Bags

Nothing is as unappetising as sweaty, squashed and bruised vegetables & fruit suffocating in plastic bags. When you’re stocking up for the long road there’s not always room in the fridge so keeping veg cool and dark in soft fabric extends its lifespan in a hot, bumpy car. These bags were lovingly handmade by my sister so sensible and sentimental. 
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Gorging in Georgia

26/6/2015

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Legend has it that wine was invented 8,000 years ago in Georgia, a small country which still produces over 100 million bottles of beautiful wine varieties every year. Whilst immersing ourselves in this important part of the country’s heritage, we felt it necessary to soak up the potent grape juice with some of Georgia’s delicious array of culinary specialities and these are some of our favourites.
We lost count of the Khachapuri we consumed throughout the country owing to their availability everywhere, low cost and variety. Predominantly pastry based, these hefty parcels were sufficient for a lunch or dinner snack and sold on every street in many small bakeries producing them fresh from the oven. Triangles, squares, slices, circles stuffed with melted cheese, ham, garlic mushrooms, potato, salty panir, onion… whichever you point to and pick it’s a snack lottery with a win every time. Adjaruli Khachapuri from Adjara region is a particular speciality, the pie is shaped like a boat and brimming with hot melted cheese and butter swimming round a warm, runny egg.
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Khinkali are the ubiquitous Georgian dumplings, the filling stuffed raw and cooked so all the piping hot juices stay inside, to be politely sucked out on the first bite. The tough, twisted top is purely for practical reasons and traditionally discarded on the plate (although then you can’t ignore how many you’ve devoured in one sitting). Filled with mixed beef and pork mince with onions and garlic, but also sometimes stuffed with herby mushrooms, cheese or potato, these delicious dough finger-foods are cheap and cheerful eats sold everywhere.
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For a slightly more refined appetizer, my favourite was Badridzhani Nigvsit, delicious slices of lightly fried aubergine topped with a rough, garlicky walnut sauce and decorated with pomegranate seeds.
And for something sweet? Churchkhela is definitely unique to this region and looks more like a slightly mouldy, lumpy sausage than a syrupy delicacy. These odd-looking sweet snacks are a string of softened walnuts dipped in a thick, fragrant red or white grape juice and flour mixture, sometimes with honey. After the initial acceptance of such a novel taste and texture combination, chewing a Churchkela is actually very pleasurable and weirdly addictive.
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Dawn Devotion and Breakfast With the Jikheti Nuns

12/5/2015

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Arriving at 5am in pitch blackness, I followed the mist-shrouded path by torchlight, the sound of singing greeting me as I opened the church doors and stepped inside. Jikheti Church, hidden in the dense forest hills of Georgia’s Guria region, was atmospherically lit by candles. I assigned myself a high-surrounded wooden pew at the far side; a prime front row view of proceedings but possibly one above my rank as I then noticed the younger nuns perched uncomfortably on small hard stools at the back. 
Nuns shuffled around the church in black robes and veils. Relieved at my foresight to wear a headscarf, I hadn’t predicted the unsuitability of combat trousers so was kindly issued a wrap-around skirt for decency (coincidentally in Khaki which complemented the adventure chic look). My inner feminist silently protested that the man also in attendance was wearing ill-fitting, tatty sportswear trousers which surely any god would find more offensive. I was also wearing two pairs of pyjama bottoms underneath said trousers, less of a respectful gesture and more because a stone church in the Georgian foothills at 5am in April is not the warmest of places to be sitting for long periods of time.
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Candles were glowing from underneath portraits of saints adorning the walls, causing the gold paint to shimmer and halo’s to glitter. As nuns and monastical congregation members entered the church, they would genuflect towards the altar then kiss and place their foreheads gently on several framed portraits and the carved wooden panelling.

A nun stooped over a wooden lectern and unwaveringly recited verses from the bible, barely pausing for breath and reading each line perfectly and melodiously by candlelight. Similarly, nuns sat around the room followed the words unfailingly by the flickers of their delicate beeswax candles.
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A deep, man’s voice boomed from behind a carved white stone altar piece at the front of the church, immediately followed by a beautiful melodic singing from the nuns, the church echoing with their harmonious response. I copied the nearby nuns and stood up politely during this recital however, now the foremost person, I was not able to see when I should sit down again so subtly strained a look from the corner of my eye and listened for the creaking of wood as pious bottoms rested back on benches.

Nuns ushered around the shadowy room, busy with lighting candles, appearing from hidden nooks behind concealed wooden panel doors. A table was carried by two younger nuns into the centre of the church and items of food were carried through the heavy doors and arranged neatly on top. Large loaves of bread, cake, bottles of oil, flasks of water, jars of preserved apricots and a bottle of wine (too early surely, even for me?). I assumed this was a ‘breakfast blessing’ as more thin beeswax candles were arranged on top of this sanctified buffet, conveniently wedged into bread rolls.
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The faint blue light of dawn appeared through the arched windows of the dome high above, dimly illuminating the encompassing fresco of Jesus with arms outstretched. Simultaneously, a chorus of birds began their own early morning celebration to the end of night and arrival of day. The simultaneous songs of praise, both spiritual and natural, strangely complemented each other in chanting and chirping unison.

A younger monastic helper appeared from behind the altar hideaway first, the trim on his dark robes reflecting brightly like a high-vis safety vest in the half-light. He was followed by clearly the master of ceremonies, the ‘voice from the vestry’, a priest with a huge white beard, veiled hat and billowing cloak of pearlescent white. He swayed a grand silver incense burner, shaking high-pitched bells in time to each swing, and wafting clouds of surprisingly sweet and floral smoke behind him. He passed round the small congregation, waving fragrant vapour over each individual. I bowed my head on his approach but, curious for a close look at this wizard-like minister, I glanced up and caught his eye; he met my gaze curiously and sternly and I’m sure I received twice as much holy smoke as everyone else. The high priest stepped out of both church doorways and wafted the incense smoke into the cold, foggy morning air. He then retreated back into his sealed off sanctuary, through another concealed door of a life-size saint painting.

An older nun approached the altar carrying a large book and, skilfully balancing a candle at its corner, dutifully recited several passages. The loud bells from the tower above rhythmically chimed bong… bong-bong… bong… bong-bong, joined in a unified chorus by a rhythmic shaking of ceremonial bells. Reappearing once more, the younger assistant carried a heavy wooden lectern to centre-stage and the high priest began reading from a thick book.
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After two mesmerising hours I slipped out of the side door when, almost ready to hit the road, Nino, a nun who spoke English, came to our camp outside and kindly invited us for breakfast. A table had been lovingly laid-out specially for us; the nuns follow Jerusalem time so were not due to eat for another couple of hours. The dining room contained long, wooden tables and benches, the surrounding walls beautifully painted with religious murals including an entire wall behind Andy depicting the last supper.
I consider myself a spiritual person in a non-religious way, personally a resolute non-believer in higher beings of creation and afterlife. I am however always emotionally moved by services of worship and forever fascinated by the peaceful beauty, ceremony and traditions of churches, mosques, synagogues and temples. To witness this daily dawn ceremony of worship, duty and servitude was a privilege. To be welcomed to stay and share breakfast with these, often mysterious and isolated, female monastical communities, was an absolute honour and a memory I will cherish forever.
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Lunchin' with the Locals in Armenia

30/4/2015

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A lasting memory of Armenia will be the warmth of the people we met there, we were welcomed so many times into people’s homes and spent many memorable hours sharing food, wine, cognac and oghi (the latter not so many memories of!). 

On one misty morning, we set off from Kapan for a days adventuring with our new friend David in the mountains of southern Armenia’s Syunik province. We explored the villages and landscape of Shikagogh nature reserve, a beautiful, remote expanse of 100km2 of untouched forest. We stopped in tiny Tsav village and were welcomed by David’s brother in law and his family to join them for lunch. We were met with a feast of local specialities and homemade dishes including Zhingalov Khats baking on the hot metal of the wood-burning stove in the living room.
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Turkish Tea-Time

30/3/2015

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It was a cold, grey, drizzly day in Niksar, Turkey but as the door to the household kitchen swung open we were met with two kinds of warmth; that of the wood burning stove blazing in the corner and the welcome friendliness of a Turkish family.

Having met our campsite owner, Tunay, only the previous day he had proudly embraced the visitors to his home town and invited us to eat with his family the following day.

As is often the way with home-cooking, the mix of dishes was delectably different from the occasional kebab street-eat we had sampled so far across Turkey. ‘Çay’ is the staple throughout the day- black tea sipped from small, tulip-shaped glasses with plenty of sugar. The tea kept flowing, topped up from a double teapot on the stove; strong black tea from one spout and hot water from the other.


Tunay’s mother, Gülseren produced steaming bowls of Çorbası, a pearl barley soup with beef and spinach served with thick slices of bread and soft, salty Beyaz Peynir, Turkish white cheese. An array of dishes were brought to the table; ‘Manti’, soft triangular pasta with garlicky yoghurt and sprinkled with thyme and Tursu Bol Sekeli, bright pink, vinegary pickled cabbage. 


More family members bustled into the room, Uncle Sinasi carrying a TV satellite box to fire-up the kick-off of a football match between Istanbul’s Beşiktaş and Kayseri’s Erciyesspor. We budged up on the sofa to make room for excited Grandma, Zekiys, animatedly chanting the striker’s name ‘Demba Ba’ repeatedly. 


The next course was Dolma Sarma, meat and rice-stuffed parcels lovingly wrapped in vine leaves. Delicious and moreish, these skilfully- made bite-size packages of loveliness dripped a fragrant oily tomato sauce and were my favourite. Accompanying the dishes was a local speciality of Tokat Gemeni; a red paste of tomatoes, ground walnuts and chilli. More Çay followed, accompanied by sweet, homemade Gilek Regeli, a runny, sticky strawberry jam and nutty, buttery Halva.
We frequently encounter such hospitality, warmth and openness from people in foreign lands, an unforgettable experience and fond, lasting memory.
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Istanbul Street Eats

12/2/2015

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Balkan Bites

8/2/2015

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Our foraging foray of South-Eastern Europe began as we crossed into Slovenia. In the capital, Ljubljana, we discovered Žlikrofi; beautifully simple little potato dumplings served with a meat sauce. So proud are the Slovenians of these little ravioli ‘hats’ that in 2010 Žlikrofi were the first foodstuff in Slovenia to be awarded a ‘protected geographical status’ to legally safeguard their regional reputation and authenticity (along with the likes of Champagne, Camembert cheese and Melton Mowbray Pork Pies).
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In Slovenia we also had our first flaky bite of what would be a snack staple over the coming weeks- Burek. Fried or baked, these individual pastries were cheap and filling and quickly became a convenient adventure fast-feed at any time of the day. Slovenian Burek were a substantial roll of fatty filo, packed with mystery sweet or savoury filling and folded into a chunky ‘Z’ shape.

In Bosnia, the Börek spirals got so big they became communal, with bakeries selling individual slices of the filo giants from round baking pans. In Sarajevo we also sampled Filovana paprika; peppers stuffed with meat and rice then slow-cooked in an oily, tomato sauce and served with a dollop of sour cream floating on top. Delicious comfort food to warm us on our chilly Sarajevo evening.
In Croatia, the Burek were neater and made from a length of layered filo pastry stuffed with meat, spinach, cheese or potato, then compactly wound into a pin-wheel spiral. At only a few Kuna’s each (about 50p) they filled the stomach without emptying the travel purse. In this region, red capsicum grows abundantly and the locals have turned their favourite produce into much-loved Ajvar, a fine chutney of minced, grilled peppers with olive oil and a touch of chilli. Piled onto just about anything edible, this regional relish became a picnic staple for us, a piquant, addictive addition to jazz up bland cheese and bread.

In Serbia, Bureks were now morphing into a solid ‘communal circle’ of pastry sharing- a hefty ‘pie wheel’ which was generously sliced into wedges of oily loveliness. They dominate bakery windows, with several varieties in massive circular metal dishes. In a small Serbian hill town we pulled over outside a bakery and stood in the street at a wooden bench eating our cheese Burek, attempting to wash the greasiness down with Ayran thick drinking yoghurt. 
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Stranded with a broken car in a bleak town in Kosovo on the second day of Eid we were restricted to only two take-out eateries which were open. The sustenance of speed here was more dough-based and we were faced with a whole array of stodgy rolls, each one topped or stuffed with a similar white, salty, bland soft cheese similar to ricotta. 

It was in Bosnia that we had our first taste of the famed Ćevapi, a fast food legend we began hearing mouth-watering whispers about back in Croatia. Stopping at a roadside café, a huge grill smoking away, the waitress delivered two heaving plates of these cylindrical minced beef kebabs. Covered with a huge Somum flatbread soaked in the BBQ juices, these delicious meat tubes are bursting with flavour and need only to be served simply with chopped onion and Kajmak sour cream.

The Montenegrins were not fussed with precise spiralling and left their Burek in the earlier straight pastry ‘pipe’ form. Our Albanian Byrek experience was more refined with the spinach pastries cut neatly into squares and a sweet variety of apples introduced. In the historical Ottoman town of Girokaster we sampled Qifqi, a local speciality of the town. Lovingly hand-crafted compact balls of rice and egg, flavoured with fresh herbs and mint, they offered a delicate alternative to our routine stodgy snacks.
… and then there was Gyros! A bargainous perfection of fast food in Greece, technically covering all main food groups; protein, carbohydrate, dairy, vegetables (tenuously) and fruit (tomatoes are officially fruit, right?). The round flatbread is deftly halved and briefly toasted on the hot grill, then lathered with Tsatziki, yoghurt and cucumber. Fresh tomatoes, lettuce and chips are piled on top. Succulent marinated chicken is expertly carved from a rotating spit and swiftly delivered on top of its awaiting accompaniments. The bread is wrapped tightly inside a napkin and delivered into your expectant hand in minutes. A fistful of delicious. 

And what about something sweet? Ice-cream. Everywhere. From Slovenia to Greece, winding all the way through Southern Europe’s cities, towns and villages, the ubiquitous Sladoled shop proudly displays its chilled counters full of frozen delights on every Balkan street. Tubs were a work of art, piled high with a creative display of their ingredients. Flavours spanned from the standard chocolate, strawberry and vanilla to the adventurous hazelnut, Kiwi and Tiramisu through to the crazy Hello Kitty, Red bull and blue Facebook flavour?!? 
Our tasting travels of the Balkans; unlikely to want to eat pastry for a while again but overall a unique culinary experience of the regions cheap eats. Who needs fine dining and fancy restaurants when the real specialities of new countries are found in stalls, takeaways, markets and roadside cafes.
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