Showing posts with label Burek. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Burek. Show all posts

Saturday, July 14, 2012

Slovenian DInner Week 18: Meat Pita and the Politics of Burek




Menu
Meat Pita
Ajvar
Red Cabbage Slaw
Broccoli


It was a happy surprise to come across a dish called Meat Pita, or meat pie, in the American Slovene Club's cookbook Our Favorite Recipes.

This was no American-style beef pot pie.  The foundation was a plain dough, stretched until it was tissue thin,  then layered and buttered.   In other words, homemade phyllo, encasing a savory filling.

This sure sounded like burek, or something close to it. It reminded me of a Serbian dish, cheese gibanica or pita, I'd made the previous December.

In recent times, burek has become a popular street food in Slovenia.  But the dish is usually associated with Balkan communities to the south and east, lands that were once part of the Ottoman Empire.  So I was a little surprised to find it in a Slovenian American cookbook from the 1950s.

In the previous week, I'd had a hankering for burek, maybe because I'd been working on my article for Kosovo 2.0.  But I wasn't sure it qualified as sufficiently Slovenian for my cooking project.

Recently, scholars in Slovenia seem to have been grappling with a similar question.

Some Slovenian academics have argued that "authentic" Slovenian cookbooks shouldn't include burek recipes.  Others point to traditional Slovenian foods, like strudel and gibanica, that also use a paper-thin stretched dough.  So why should burek be considered an "outsider" food, as though there is something inherently un-Slovenian about it?

In some Slovenian circles, the burek has become part of an ugly ethnic stereotype of  "undesirable" immigrant populations from Bosnia, Kosovo and Albania.   One scholar has has even coined a new term for this narrow attitude: Burekalism, modeled on Edward Said's notion of Orientalism.  It refers to an insular Slovenian view of the alien Balkan Other, who comes from the more "primitive" lands to the south and east.

Is this a serious argument, or is it tongue-in-cheek?  I'm not entirely sure.

But I'm not trying to be a food purist.  Politics aside, it seems clear that a burek-like dish was already known to Slovenian American home cooks in the early 1950s.  So that's enough for me!






1 lb. ground meat  (I used half pork and half beef, rather than the original pork/veal mix)
1 large onion, chopped
4 T. fresh parsley, chopped (I increased the amount)
salt and pepper to taste
1 egg, beaten with
3 T. Greek yogurt (my choice) or sour cream

1 package commercially made phyllo dough (my shortcut)
2 T. melted butter
2 T. olive oil


For filling: Brown onion in oil.  Add ground meat and parsley.  Brown, stir and chop to avoid clumping. Cook until browned.  Add salt and pepper to taste.  Remove from heat. Add egg and yogurt, beaten together. Cook briefly on heat until egg is cooked.  Cool.

For dough:  Buy a package of commercially prepared phyllo dough and follow package directions to defrost, if frozen.

Or, if you are feeling adventurous (I wasn't!) make your own dough:  Mix 2 c. flour, 1/2 t. salt, 2 T. oil, and  4 T. warm water.  Make dough, knead, let  rest 15 minutes.  Roll out on floured cloth, then brush with butter and "stretch slowly until tissue thin."

To assemble:  Oil a round pan or rectangular pan.  One by one, layer 4 sheets of phyllo, brushing each one with some of the butter/oil mixture.  Arrange layers as in photo below, so sheets are evenly arranged with edges draped over edge of dish.  Add filling.  Add 4 more layers, brushing each with butter/oil mixture and arranging as before.  Tuck in edges.  Brush top layer with butter/oil.

Bake at 325 degrees for 1 hour, or until firm and top is browned.

The verdict:  Delicious, no matter where it came from!






Saturday, March 24, 2012

Balkanika Restaurant, NYC: Burek = Mardi Gras Comfort Food

Cheese Burek, Balkanika Restaurant, NYC


It was Tuesday, my designated Slovenian cooking day.  It also happened to be February 21.  Mardi Gras.

But there would be no home cooking this week.  My husband and I were in the middle of a trip back east, visiting family in New York before we continued on to Rhode Island.

We were feeling miserable and slightly queasy.  Both of us fighting off the flu.  Walking the streets of Manhattan, dragging our bags behind us, in a damp, bone-chilling cold we no longer knew how to face.   On our way to my cousin's apartment on the Upper West Side, after spending several days with family on Long Island.

It was past lunch time.  We were definitely in need of some comfort food.

We passed a New Orleans style restaurant.  A fitting choice, perhaps.  But we had just hosted a Louisiana-themed party back home, to celebrate the launch of Zydeco Nation, a new radio documentary about our music community in California.  I didn't think this Manhattan restaurant could top my husband's offerings for the event, which included his trademark muffaletas, along with red beans and rice.

Then I spotted another possibility across the street.  Balkanika, a wine bar and restaurant.  That sounded promising.  We hurried over to take a look.

Balkanika Restaurant made a tantalizing promise:  Balkan and Mediterranean food in the heart of Hell's Kitchen.  They even included Slovenia in the long list of cuisines we could sample.

Inside, we found a comfortable, woody restaurant with a long bar in back.  Not too crowded, since we had managed to arrive after the weekday lunch crowd.

The menu was dazzling and varied.  Too many choices, for diners in our weakend state. We spotted  the lunch special:  a glass of wine, a starter, and an entree for just $14.   Hard to beat that anywhere, much less in Manhattan.

I didn't notice anything designated as Slovenian on the menu, although I saw a couple of dishes I had made recently: stuffed cabbage and stuffed peppers.  There were any number of exotic choices from Turkey, Albania, and Bosnia.  But I immediately zeroed in on the burek, one of the restaurant's signature offerings.

Burek, a savory phyllo-wrapped pastry, is found all over the Balkans and the Middle East.  The origins are probably Turkish.  There are endless variations in the spelling, the filling, and the shape.  The one constant is deliciousness.  In the months before I began my Slovenian cooking project, I had been experimenting with making it myself, with store-bought phyllo.

As usual, we decided to share.  I chose the cheese burek.  My husband picked out four selections for his meze platter. We each ordered the bean soup with beef to start.

It was just what the doctor ordered.  The soup was soothing and hearty. The cheese burek, in a traditional coiled shape I hadn't tried before, was mild and just tangy enough, with a filling of ricotta and feta cheese. It was served with a cup of thin, sharp homemade yogurt alongside.

The assorted meze provided a nice counterpoint, with some unusual selections.  The green fava bean spread, with the characteristic bitter edge, would have been tantalizing, if not for our slightly "iffy" stomaches.  We really enjoyed that pinkish paprika walnut spread. The whole wheat pita was a welcome addition.

And the glass of wine was good medicine, too.

Highly recommended, if you find yourself in Manhattan and in need of unique and satisfying comfort food with a Balkan flair.

After we returned to California, I discovered the restaurant's website, complete with a detailed menu. I also checked out some review sites, and learned that New Yorkers share my enthusiasm for Balkanika.  See, for example, Zagat and Balkanika on Urbanspoon




Meze Platter, Balkanika Restaurant, NYC