Cevapcici Meatloaf, a Balkan-inspired Original

One night in mid-December, I had an urge for cevapcici, but I was pressed for time.  I didn't want the fuss of shaping and grilling a bunch of little sausages.  I had a brainstorm: Why not turn it into meatloaf?

So I mixed up a double recipe of my salt-free cevapcici. This time, I used a beef-turkey mix instead of lamb.  I also added an egg and a teaspoon of salt-free seasoning mix.

The result?  Instant slice-and-serve cevapcici!  It was an easy shortcut that had the characteristic taste and texture of cevapcici, especially with the traditional garnishes of ajvar (red pepper relish) and Greek yogurt.  It's hard to believe that no one else has thought of this before.

The cevapcici meatloaf made a perfect dinner with some tasty leftovers: two kinds of slaw (kale and cabbage) and my husband's vegi-millet soup.   For an even more traditional dinner, serve with pita or the Serbian flatbread known as lepinja.  (My salt-free version is here.)

The recipe follows.  Feel free to use your own favorite cevapcici mix.  I would recommend that you add an egg and liquid smoke, as I did, to provide some moisture and simulate that "just-grilled" flavor.

Dober tek!

Cevapcici Meatloaf (low sodium)

1 lb ground beef
1 lb ground turkey
6 large cloves garlic, minced
4-6  T. parsley, minced
1  t. cayenne
1 T. smoked paprika
1 T. hot paprika
 1 t.  black pepper
4 T. seltzer water mixed with 1 t. liquid smoke
1 t. no sodium seasoning mix (or 1 t. salt)
1 egg

Mix all all ingredients together.  Form into 1 large loaf or 2 small loaves.  Line rectangular baking pan with foil or parchment paper.  Bake at 350 for 45-60 minutes, depending on size of loaves.  Slice and serve with ajvar and Greek yogurt.

Domači Prijatelj: The New Improved Slovenian Biscotti Recipe (And a New Challenge)

I have been trying to perfect my recipe for domači prijatelj, the Slovenian version of biscotti or mandelbrot.  I like the concept as well as the name, which translates as "domestic friend."  According to some sources, it has a slightly risqué connotation.

I have made a couple of tweaks to my earlier recipes.  This latest version is the best yet, with an airy texture and just the right amount of crunch.

First change: I added the nuts, chocolate, and dried fruit AFTER the flour, rather than before.  It seems to result in a lighter product. Most cooks, Slovenian and otherwise, do suggest this, but I had been intrigued by the couple of recipes that did it the other way around. In this case, I think the majority view is right.  Save the mix-ins until the very end.

Second change: I finally learned the proper Slovenian pronunciation, thanks to a new challenge I have taken on this year. I am (finally) trying to learn the language of my ancestors.

Last week, I enrolled in a Slovenian language class, with a wonderful teacher at San Francisco's Slovenian Hall. This step is long overdue. I am the only beginner in the class, so I have some catching up to do, as well as some bad habits to break.

The day before I made biscotti #3, I had been reviewing some practice dialogues from the upcoming week's Slovenian lesson in our textbook. One of the dialogues involved "moj prijatelj Stefan." My friend Stefan. Finally, I thought, a familiar word!

But when I listened to the audio version on the CD, I got a little surprise.  That final "j" in "prijatelj" is silent.  I had been pronouncing it in the usual Slovenian way, like the English "y." This was just one of many fine points of Slovenian pronunciation I had managed to overlook, in my casual attempts to learn a little bit of the language on my own.  

So here is the new improved recipe, to go along with my slowly improving language skills. Eventually, I hope to be able to use Slovenian recipes without the dubious assistance of Google Translate :-) 

Domači Prijatelj (Domestic Friend), The Final Version

3 eggs
3/4 c. sugar
1-2/3 c. flour
1 t. low sodium baking soda and 1 t. cream of tartar (or use 1 t. regular baking powder)
1/2 c. chopped bittersweet chocolate or chocolate chips
1/2 c. sliced almonds
1/4 c. dried cranberries
1/4 c. dried apricots, diced
a little brandy for soaking the fruit (optional)
1 t. vanilla extract and/or 1 t. almond extract
lemon rind, grated
cinnamon (optional)
(dash of salt is optional)

Note: Any combination of nuts, dried fruit, and chocolate can be used, but the total amount should be about 1-1/2 c.


Measure the flour and combine with leavening agents. Set aside. If you are using dried fruit, place it in a small bowl and add a little brandy to moisten. In a large bowl, beat the eggs, sugar, and any flavorings or extracts you are using until the mixture is thick and lemon-colored.  Blend in the flour until you have a stiff but sticky dough. Stir in nuts, chocolate and dried fruit.

Spread the dough in an oiled, parchment-lined 7 x 9 inch rectangular pan.  Or form the dough into two long loaves (about 3 inches wide) on a parchment-lined cookie sheet.

Bake at 350 degrees for 30-35 minutes until brown and firm.  Remove from oven and let cool for 10 minutes.  Cut into 1/2 inch slices. If you have baked the dough in a rectangular pan, you will want to cut the slices in half.

Now there is a choice.  How dry do you want the slices to be?  Most Slovenian recipes suggest a simple air-drying.  But I continue to be a fan of the twice-baked approach.  So, if you like your "domestic friends" on the firmer side, put the slices back in the oven for 10-15 minutes.  (For additional crunch, let them sit in a cooling oven overnight!)  When done, let cool on a rack.  Store in a covered container.

Dober tek!

Ajdovčki, or Buckwheat Thumbprint Cookies

After my success with domači prijatelj, I wanted to add another Slovenian cookie to my holiday dessert plate. So I returned to the Slovenian cooking site Kulinarika and discovered an intriguing recipe for ajdovčki  ("little buckwheats"), a rich butter-nut ball that included buckwheat flour and cocoa.

I don't know whether this is a traditional cookie, but in recent years it seems to have become quite the thing among Slovenian food bloggers. I found a particularly nice bilingual version on this blog. The blogger had provided a fitting English name, jam thumbprint cookies.  She even used a cranberry jam filling.  That caught my eye, because I still had some tart homemade cranberry compote left over from Thanksgiving.

I did hesitate when I read the part about about making holes in the cookies with the handle of a wooden spoon. The last time I tried that, when I attempted a very odd buckwheat dumpling called žganci, the result was a disaster.

I made a few changes to the recipe: almonds instead of walnuts, a little more spice, and cognac instead of rum.  To save time, I bought fresh almond meal at the produce store around the corner.

Ajdovčki, or Buckwheat Thumbprint Cookies

2/3 c. white flour
1/2 c. buckwheat flour
3/4 c. almond meal
1/4 c. cocoa
7 T. butter (1 quarter-pound stick, less 1 T.)
1/2 c. powdered sugar
1 egg yolk
2 pinches cinnamon
2 pinches cloves
2 T. cognac (or rum)

Mix the dry ingredients together in a large bowl. Rub in butter with your fingertips. Mixture will be crumbly. Beat egg yolk and cognac together and sprinkle over mixture. Work with hands until mixture holds together.  If necessary, add a little more cognac or water until you have a stiff, dense dough.

Form dough into small balls, about the size of a walnut.  Place on a parchment-lined cookie sheet. Make a depression in each ball with the handle of a wooden spoon, a chopstick, or your finger.

Bake at 330 degrees for 20 minutes.  Remove from oven.  Enlarge hole with your finger and add a bit of jam.  Reduce temperature to 300 degrees and bake for 5 more minutes. Let cool.

Many recipes suggest a chocolate frosting, but that seemed liked overkill to me. I added a light dusting of powdered sugar before serving.

For the verdict, read on.

I had high hopes when I tasted the raw dough.  (Yes, I know this is a reckless move! I do not recommend eating raw egg.)  That compact brown dough looked and tasted just like the uncooked rum balls we often make for Christmas.  For those who don't know: Rum balls are a heavenly mix of ground walnuts, vanilla wafer crumbs, sugar, cocoa, and plenty of  rum.  This dough tasted very much the same.

The cookies looked pretty when I took them out of the oven. The first sign of trouble came when one of them crumbled in my fingers when I picked it up.  Naturally, I tasted it. It was dry and not very sweet.  With baking, that buckwheat flavor seemed to have become more pronounced.

I gave the cookies a good sprinkle of powdered sugar and let them cool.  The extra sweetening helped a little, but it still seemed that something was missing.  The cookies tasted almost aggressively bland.

In fairness, I made a number of departures from the original recipe.  My substitution of almond meal for walnuts probably accounted for the increased dryness.  Another possibility: my conversion from the original metric measures might have been a little off.  I baked the cookies at an initial  temperature that was a little too high, and I forgot to turn down the oven for the last five minutes in the oven.  I also chose to skip the frosting that many recipes suggest. (From the discussion on the Kulinarika cooking site, it appears that some of the Slovenian cooks also had problems when they made significant changes in the original recipe.)

I am tempted to say that these are cookies that only a Slovenian could love.  But my husband liked them.  And the flavor and texture did improve with age. They are definitely for buckwheat fans.

If I were to try these again, I would follow the original recipe exactly, including those "by weight" metric measures. I would also use an actual sweet jam, and more of it.  And probably a drizzle of white icing, or at least a serious roll in a dish of powdered sugar.

Update:  I made the new improved version for my Slovenian language class.  They were a success! To see the recipe, go here.

A Trio of Christmas Sweets: Domestic Friends, Buckwheat Thumbprints, and Potica with the Flavor of Kosovo

    

                                         

This year, I decided to expand the Slovenian holiday offerings.  First, I tried out two new cookie recipes.  Then I took a bolder step: I came up with a new filling variation for our traditional potica.

A week or so before Christmas, I made some tasty domači prijatelj (domestic friends), the Slovenian take on biscotti.  Last week, I tried out an unusual chocolate/buckwheat cookie called ajdovčki (buckwheat thumbprints). They looked pretty, as you can see from the photo, but the taste was definitely odd. (The recipe follows in the next post, so you can decide for yourself!)

Three days ago, I made the Christmas potica.  For two of the loaves, I stuck with my family's traditional walnut-honey filling.  Then I got creative.

I had a moment of inspiration:  Instead of honey, why not try the honey-tahini spread from Kosovo our journalist son had brought us last Christmas?  I quickly dismissed it as a little too off-beat.  But then he made the identical suggestion. Suddenly, it seemed like a great idea: Slovenian potica with the flavor of Kosovo.

That Kosovo potica was the first loaf we cut into.  It was delicious, with a subtle but haunting flavor from the tahini.  I had made a special effort to roll the dough extra-thin this year, so the potica looked better than ever, as you can see from the photos below.

These photos were taken by our older son, a photojournalist in New York.  So this Kosovo potica really was a family affair.

From our kitchen to yours: Merry Christmas! Vesel božič! Gëzuar Krishtlindjet!



 

Domači Prijatelj ("Domestic Friend"), the Slovenian Answer to Biscotti and Mandelbrot

"The eggs are divorced." "Cut the tonsils." "Murder the eggs." "Sexual cakes are rising." "Domestic friends are done."

Does this sound like mayhem in the kitchen? A surrealistic cartoon?  These are choice excerpts from the Google translation of recipes for domači prijatelj, the Slovenian version of biscotti or mandelbrot.  It is my latest addition to the Slovenian holiday kitchen.

Long before the American biscotti craze, I was introduced to mandelbrot, the Jewish version of the popular sweet. By any name, these are among my favorite cookies: crunchy, not-too-sweet, and open to many creative variations.

So I was excited to discover that Slovenians have their own take on the firm, sliced cookie.  Domači prijatelj is usually translated as "domestic friend" or sometimes as "house friend." To a Slovenian, this has a slightly risqué connotation.  My Slovenian professor friend suggests that "paramour" might be a good English equivalent.

Domači prijatelj do not show up in my 1950s Slovenian American cookbooks. But they seem to be quite popular in Slovenia today, judging by the many recipes available online. A search on the Slovenian cooking website Kulinarika turned up seventeen different recipes. (To see the full list, go here.)

At first, I thought domači prijatelj might be a recent import from Italy, but the sturdy sweet has has been around since at least the late 1800s. Several online sources make reference to a handwritten copy of a recipe from an 1877 Slovenian cookbook. Some Slovenian food bloggers follow another simple old formula, translated as:

For each egg:

70 g sugar 

50 g hazelnuts

90 g flour

lemon zest

These proportions are much like traditional Italian biscotti, heavy on the eggs but with no added fat.  Mandelbrot recipes, which usually include butter or oil, result in a  richer and more tender cookie. 

One major difference with domači prijatelj: they don't tend to receive a second baking in the oven. Most recipes direct the cook to slice the baked loaf and then let the individual pieces air-dry naturally, perhaps in a cool place. Biscotti, of course,  are always given a second baking (the name translates as "twice-cooked"). This is usually the case with mandelbrot, as well.  I did find a couple of  domači prijatelj recipes that specified a second baking, so I felt on solid ground when I opted to add that second step.

One thing biscotti, mandelbrot, and "domestic friends" have in common:  These once-simple sliced cookies have morphed into something far more complex, as contemporary cooks give free rein to their imaginations.  The Kulinarika site includes a few very simple nut-and-raisin combinations, using hazelnuts, walnuts, or almonds. But most recipes go beyond that. The dried fruits include apricots, coconut, prunes, and papaya.  Chocolate is a  popular addition. Flavorings included lemon and orange rind, rum, vanilla, and cinnamon.  The most unexpected twist: yogurt-covered raisins.

The recipe I chose as a guide from Kulinarika is particularly egg-rich and uses no other leavening agents, which is an advantage for those of us who are watching our sodium intake. Here is the Google translation of the recipe I took as a model.  The original metric measures are preserved in the translation.

6 eggs

300 g sugar

400 g flour

100 g papaya

100 g apricots

100 g walnuts or hazelnuts

100 g raisins


I cut this recipe in half and have made two different versions so far.  I wanted to experiment with different add-ins and baking methods.

In Version #1, I used chopped chocolate, almonds, dried cranberries, and dried apricots. To compensate for the absence of baking powder or soda I followed the example of another recipe and  beat the egg whites separately.  I followed the original recipe suggestion to bake the dough in a flat pan instead of individual rolls, before cutting into slices.   With part of the batch, I skipped the second baking, just as that recipe (and most of the others) directed.  The rest of the batch was twice-baked.

In Version #2, I omitted the dried fruit and increased the chocolate and nuts. This time, I did use a low-sodium leavening agent, plus some additional flavorings.  I shaped the dough in long rolls before slicing and twice-baked the entire batch.

For the recipes and the results, read on!

Domači Prijatelj (Domestic Friend), Version #1

3 eggs
3/4 c. sugar
1-2/3 c. flour (more if needed)
1/2 c. chopped chocolate (mixed bittersweet and milk)
1/2 c. sliced almonds
1/4 c. dried cranberries
1/4 c. dried apricots, diced
a little brandy for soaking the fruit (optional)
1 t. vanilla extract
lemon rind, grated



Domači Prijatelj (Domestic Friend), Version #2

3 eggs
3/4 c. sugar
1-2/3 c. flour (more if needed)
1 t. low sodium baking soda and 1 t. cream of tartar (or use 1 t. regular baking powder)
3/4 c. sliced almonds
3/4 c. chopped chocolate (mixed bittersweet and milk)
1 t. vanilla extract
1 t. almond extract
1 t. cinnamon


The simplest directions for both versions:  Measure the flour and combine with any leavening agents you may be using.  Set aside.  If you are using dried fruit, place it in a small bowl and add a little brandy to moisten. In a large bowl, beat the eggs, sugar, and any flavorings or extracts you are using until the mixture is thick and lemon-colored.  Stir in nuts, chocolate, dried fruit, and any other add-ins you wish.  Stir in the flour until you have a stiff but sticky dough.

There are a couple of variations you can try in mixing the dough.  You can separate the eggs, so that the yolks are beaten with the sugar and then the beaten whites are folded in.  You can add the flour before or after the nuts, fruits, and chocolate.

If you wish, you can chill the dough to make it easier to handle. (Note that low-sodium baking soda or low sodium baking powder lose their leavening power if not used immediately.)

The dough can be baked in a rectangular pan and then sliced and cut.  I prefer to form it into 2 long loaves, by spooning the dough onto a parchment-lined cookie sheet and then easing into shape with floured hands.

Bake at 350 degrees for 30-35 minutes until brown and firm.  Remove from oven and let cool for 10 mintutes.  Cut into 1/2 inch slices.  If you have baked the dough in a pan, you will want to halve the slices.  Now you have one more optional step to consider.

Most of these Slovenian recipes simply let the slices dry out naturally.  Air-dry in a cool place, some say.  But if you like a harder version, you can take the minority view and give the slices another turn in the oven.  Stand the slices up on the cookie sheet and bake them for about 20 more minutes, until brown and firm.  Let cool on a rack.

Enjoy!  Dober Tek!

The result:

Both batches turned out well.  The result is a plain, hard cookie that is closer to biscotti than the richer mandelbrot.

In the photo, the two slices on the right are from Version #1, where I separated the eggs. The two on the left are from Version #2, where I used low-sodium baking soda and cream of tarter. The textures are the same: slightly risen but dense.  It is possible that "regular" baking powder or soda would have resulted in a lighter product, but these were just fine. 

As for the merits of twice-baking: I tried it both ways, and prefer to give the slices a second stint in the oven.   It's a matter of individual taste, but in my house we like our "domestic friends" crunchy and hard :-)

Update: A month later, I gave it one more try and came up with the best version yet. For the lightest texture, do use baking soda or powder, and save the add-ins for last.  To see the full recipe, go here.

Cranberry-Chocolate Chip Mandelbrot for Thanksgiving/Hanukkah

Last week, my husband and I flew to Florida to join his family for Thanksgiving—and for the first day of Hanukkah. We had somehow managed to escape all the buzz about Thanksgivukkah.  We hadn’t yet heard about the "menurkey," a special turkey-shaped menorah created for the occasion.  But my brother-in-law had supplied one for the candle-lighting. And back in New York, our photojournalist son had even been assigned to cover a story in one of the daily papers about the ten-year-old boy who invented the contraption.

Oy vey.  It was too much for a traditionalist like me.

I did decide to get a little creative with one food I planned to make for the double celebration: mandelbrot, one of my favorites among the traditional Jewish sweets I had discovered when I met my husband. I had in mind a fancy version with bittersweet chocolate chips and all-American Thanksgiving cranberries, in honor of the double holiday. I could easily make the mandelbrot in advance, since the hard, crunchy cookies keep so well and are the ideal size and texture for travel.  I knew my father-in-law would appreciate them—as long as they were hard enough.  (He regularly gives store-bought mandelbrot a third baking in the oven, just to be safe!)

I had one additional challenge: Making a low-sodium mandelbrot. So that meant a few modifications to the standard recipe.  No salt, obviously.  And no baking powder, at least of the conventional variety.  I would have to substitute low-sodium baking powder—or low-sodium baking soda plus cream of tartar.  And that meant the dough needed to be used right away instead of chilling it in the refrigerator, as some cooks suggest.

Over the years, I have experimented with many different approaches to mandelbrot. This time, I decided to adapt a chocolate chip-walnut recipe from the folks at King Arthur Flour. Along with the low-sodium modifications, I added dried cranberries and almond extract.  I also substituted almonds for walnuts and used brown turbinado sugar for the topping instead of coarse white sugar.

A final note for those who follow Jewish dietary laws: Because this recipe uses oil and bittersweet chocolate chips that are dairy-free, it can be enjoyed with that Thanksgiving turkey!

The result was so delicious I wanted to share it.  But I worried that it might not be completely kosher to include it in a blog that is devoted to Slovenian and Balkan cooking.

It seemed strange to me that the ever-practical Slovenians didn’t have a sliced, dry cookie like mandelbrot. So many Europeans have a version: Italian biscotti and cantucci, Jewish mandelbrot and kamishbrot, German zweiback and rusk. But I took another look online and discovered many recipes, all in Slovenian, for a sliced biscuit called domači prijatelj.  The name is translated as “domestic friend.”  (This may or may not have a slightly risqué connotation!)  These Slovenian recipes seem simpler and plainer than mandelbrot, but the pictures show something that could easily pass for mandelbrot or the probable source of them all, biscotti.

Whether you call them mandelbrot, biscotti, or domestic friends, these crunchy slices are delicious for any occasion.

Happy Holidays!

Cranberry-Chocolate Chip Mandelbrot (low-sodium, dairy-free)
   (a close cousin to Slovenian domači prijatelj!)

3 large eggs
1 c. oil
1 c. sugar
1 t. vanilla extract
1 t. almond extract

3-1/2 c. white unbleached flour (I used King Arthur organic white flour)
2 t. low sodium baking soda mixed with 2 t. cream of tartar
(or use 1 t.  baking powder)
11-12 oz. (2 cups, scant) bittersweet or extra-dark chocolate chips (I used Guittard Extra-Dark)
1−1/2 c. sliced almonds
1/2 c. dried cranberries
raw turbinado sugar for topping

In a large bowl, beat eggs, oil, sugar and extracts for about five minutes, until thick and lemon-colored. Combine baking soda and cream of tartar, then mix well with flour in a second bowl.  Add flour mixture to liquid ingredients gradually, first beating and then stirring at the end. (You may not need all the flour.) Fold in the chocolate chips, almonds, and cranberries.  Dough will be sticky.

(If you are using regular baking powder, you may want to refrigerate the dough for several hours or overnight.  But with low sodium leavening ingredients, you need to bake immediately.)

Divide dough into four pieces, lightly flouring your hands if necessary.  Roll each piece into a cylinder and then shape into a flat log that is about 2 by 8 inches.  Place the four logs on two parchment-lined baking sheets.  Sprinkle with sugar.

Bake at 350 degrees for 28 to 30 minutes, until logs are starting to brown. Remove from oven and reduce heat to 300 degrees.

Let cool slightly then cut each log into half-inch slices. Place slices upright on baking sheets and bake for 35 to 45 minutes, turning so cookies bake evenly.  Remove when firm and lightly browned at the edges.  Mandelbrot will become crisper as they cool.  And if they aren’t hard enough, you can always re-bake!

Let cool on the baking sheets.  When cool, store in covered containers.  Makes 40-50, depending on size.

Cheese Dumplings, Slovenian Style

I fell in love with Russian cheese pancakes at a farmers' market and later made a decent version of my own at home.

I was disappointed that Slovenians didn't seem to have their own version of this tasty dish.  The closest approximation was a boiled cheese dumpling, usually served with a topping of buttered breadcrumbs and a little sugar.  So I decided to give Slovenian cheese dumplings a try, to see how they compared.

I found three recipes in my vintage cookbooks.  They showed up under different names (cheese balls, cheese dumplings, sirovi knedeljni, skutovi cmoki) but used the same basic ingredients, in varying proportions. One recipe called for separating the eggs.  Two involved shaping the dough into individual pieces before boiling; one just used a spoon.

One element was common to all three recipes: dry curd cottage cheese. I figured my usual substitute, Russian-style farmer cheese, would do just fine.

I picked the easiest recipe, one from the Progressive Slovene Women.  It was a simple batter dropped from a spoon.  I cut their recipe in half and made one other adaptation: a little nutmeg instead of salt, for a LoSloSo dish.  (It turns out to be virtually the same as my recipe for Russian curd cheese pancakes.)

For the result, read on.

Cheese dumplings (Skutovi Cmoki)

1/2 lb. Russian-style farmer cheese (or dry curd cottage cheese, if you can find it)
4 heaping T. flour (or more if needed)
2 eggs, beaten
1 T. melted butter
2 pinches nutmeg (or 1/4 t. salt, like the original recipe)

Stir or crumble the cheese.  Add eggs, melted butter, and nutmeg or salt.  Mix well.  Add flour, a tablespoon at a time, to make a thick batter/soft dough.

Bring large pot of water to boil.  Drop in batter by spoonfuls.  Cook for 20 minutes. Remove with slotted spoon.   The traditional topping is buttered bread crumbs, along with some sugar for a sweeter dish.  Dumplings can also be left plain, as I did, to accompany a savory main dish.

The result?  Well, it was mixed.  The batter was almost too loose to hold together in the boiling water.  The finished dumplings seemed puffy and a little waterlogged.  The flavor was definitely bland without the salt.  The next day, the chilled dumplings had deflated and had a better texture, similar to cheese pancakes.

There is no getting around it: I prefer the pancake version, although I do see the advantages of making a fat-free version by boiling.  On the other hand, a non-stick skillet can be used to make the pancakes.

The problem, I suspect, was my substitution of Russian-style farmer cheese for the dry curd cottage cheese.  There are two solutions: drain the cheese first and/or add a little more flour.  That's what I'll do if I try this again.

Meanwhile, I'm sticking to pancakes!