Hard to believe this would be the halfway mark through our first year (if we did them all on time) however weve missed a few because of moving house and other hiccups along the way so its probably closer to 9 months or a year actually! Ive been terribly slack writing lately despite cooking madly because weve been expecting our second child any day now, and as I write this my wifes working through her first contractions. Were passing the time watching Love Actually but I could think of nothing better to give her some space but still be physically there than to catch up a little on blogging (I basically know the movie by heart anyway so Im still loving it) (image credit: user Ramirez via wikipedia.org)

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This one was brilliant! Russias foray feels like forever ago and we miss our Slavic foods. We cooked up one of our favourite Czech dishes a couple of weeks ago, and it was awesome to get a chance to head there. I admit I was relying on assumptions, to a degree, thinking that former Yugoslavia = Slavic and therefore food = similar to what I know and love in Czech, Russia, etc. What I didnt realise, but totally should have cottoned on to once I found out that its largely a Muslim state and was once ruled by the Ottomans, was that the food is an awesomely unique thing that draws on the Ottoman, Balkan, Mediterranean and Slavic influences in all the best ways. I learned about very Greek-looking herby mixed grills served with refreshing yoghurt, garlicky Cevapi (spicy sausages we get a shitty version of here in Oz, called chevups), Shopska salad (which we ate about 50 of when we travelled in Bulgaria last year) and so much more (image credit theculturetrip.com)

It was a damn hard thing to settle on, because I absolutely adore food like this, and always struggle knowing what to order when we have Balkan, Greek or Turkish food at restaurants. I settled on two dishes that sound familiar, but were both done in a distinctly unfamiliar way. Firstly, Moussaka to me has always been a Greek mince-and-eggplant bake, layered like a lasagne, but I found a Bosnian one that used potatoes instead, and was topped with a custard of sorts. Then Brek, which to me is a cigar-shaped pastry log filled with meat, onions and spices that you buy from the Turkish stand at Melbournes Queen Victoria Markets, turned out to be called Burek in Bosnian, and is a giant cigar coiled up like a snail before baking. YUM! All served with a salad thats basically just onion and cottage cheese to lessen the meaty richness a little (image credit: user Kami via wanderlust.com).

One of the guys at work is Bosnian, so once Id done my research I asked him what his idea of typical Bosnian food would be. He confirmed that what I had in mind was pretty much hitting the nail on the head, so away we went. I actually felt a little surprised and enjoyed a little thrill of cocky pride that I could understand the Bosnian language recipes I found (because of Czech). Ive thought it so many times in the past, and this moment reminded me once again, how bloody strange it is that people whose languages, cultures and histories are so closely related often use English when they talk to each other. I guess it comes down to exposure, because Scandinavia surely is a shining example of how possible this is (Danes, Swedes and Norwegians can all understand each other to varying degrees), and Ive seen it in towns on the Portuguese/Spanish border, but it blows my mind that people from Bosnia would bother speaking English if they went to Czech or vice versa. I know it happens and I just dont get why? Surely it cant be too hard when theyre so closely related? Could it have to do historical events or the way the various cultures see each other now? Is it the perceived prestige that English bestows? Either way, completely off topic but that was the rabbit hole my mind went down this week and since blogging is sharing I thought Id share that particular nugget with you.

Back to meat.

So much meat.

These two dishes pretty much use the same meaty base, its just the assembly that varies after the meat is ready to go.

Meat filling

• 4 Tbsp olive oil
• 2 medium onions, finely diced
• 4 garlic cloves (or more, to taste)
• 1kg beef or lamb mince
• 1 tsp salt
• 1 tsp ground pepper
• 1 Tbsp sweet paprika

1. Heat the oil in a pan over low heat, then saut the onion and garlic until soft.
2. Increase the heat, then add the mince and stir often until browned all over but not cooked through.
3. Add the seasoning and stir to combine. If theres excess liquid in the pan, tip it out.

Musaka

The technique was completely weird to me when Im used to lasagne and Greek moussaka, but it totally worked. Its got a Balkan Yorkshire pudding sort of vibe about it when the custard puffs up but its so good for such a simple dish!

• Half of the meat filling
• 750g potatoes, peeled and sliced to about 5mm thick
• tsp salt
• 1 tsp oil
• 3-4 eggs
• 400mL sour cream
• 60mL milk
• 2 Tbsp parsley

1. Preheat oven to 180C.
2. Mix the potatoes with oil and salt in a large bowl.
3. In a casserole dish, spread a third of the seasoned potatoes on the bottom in an even layer.
4. Spread half the meat over top, then top with another third of the remaining potatoes.
5. Repeat with the remaining meat, then remaining potatoes so youve got a potato/meat/potato/meat/potato sort of stack going on.
6. Bake for 30-40 minutes, or until meat is cooked through and potatoes look brown and roasty on top.
7. Whisk sour cream, milk and eggs together in a bowl, then pour all over the meat mixture. Sprinkle parsley on top and return to the oven for a final 20 minutes, or until the custard is cooked through.

Burek

We only made half of what Ive written below, which is why its not much of a spiral, so it would traditionally look a lot more impressive than this. We just keep it small because it was the 2 of us.

• Half of the meat filling plus 3 Tbsp chopped parsley
• 1 packet filo pastry
• 50g melted butter
• 1 Tbsp sesame seeds
• 1 egg, lightly beaten

1. Preheat oven to 190C
2. Line a baking sheet with baking paper.
3. On a clean, dry surface, lay three sheets of filo pastry side by side, each overlapping the one next to it by a third to a half.
4. Repeat this process twice more so that youve got an overlapping sort of matrix of 9 sheets.
5. Brush the surface with the melted butter, then spread the filling along the entire length of it, in sausage shape about 5cm from the bottom and 1-2cm from each side.
6. Flip the bottom up and over the meat, then roll it over itself tightly but gently. Tuck the ends up so you dont lose any, then keep rolling until youve got a long snake. If the pastry cracks along the way, dont stress. Thats why there are 9 layers to begin with, added to as you roll and roll so the cracks shouldnt go all the way from outside to inside.
7. Starting at one end, roll the pastry around on itself tightly to form a spiral. You might need to tuck the end a little to make it stay put.
8. Brush the top with the beaten egg, sprinkle with sesame seeds, then bake for 20-30 minutes. Serve hot, but its also delicious after the fact if you can handle slightly soggy pastry.

Siriluk (literally cheese and onion)

• 1 tub cottage cheese (or fresh Balkan country cheese if you can get it)
• 2-4 Tbsp sour cream (I used whatever was left of the tub I bought for the musaka
• 3 spring onions, sliced thinly
• 1 leek, white part only sliced very thinly and washed
• 1 tsp extra virgin olive oil
• Salt and pepper to taste

1. Combine all ingredients in a bowl, and chill before serving so that the flavours amalgamate.