Bread and Rosewater

 

Once again I was back in Mostar, once again I was lucky to stay at Brajlovic’s white house with its beautiful garden near Lucki Most and once again I was torn between two mistresses….

Let me explain.

“Brajla” is the undisputed champion of breakfast in Bosnia.

In his garden right in the centre of the city, just a few meters away from the famous “Old Bridge”, he grows his own herbs and vegetables, you can pick figs and berries off trees and shrubs and here you are immersed in the scent of numerous rose bushes.

At a place like this, breakfast is a celebration and sure enough, well before the agreed time, I could hear that my host was getting busy in his kitchen where culinary delights were created with the acoustic background of motorbike racing commentary from around the world.

A kilo of rose buds had been harvested already a couple of days earlier and immersed in slightly sugared water and lemon juice and kept in a cool and dark spot in the basement.

When I sat down for breakfast, the smell of freshly made Bosnian coffee blended with the fragrance of the rosewater, which Brajla had placed in a pre- cooled glass jug on the middle of the table. Small water droplets were running off the outside of the glass jug, creating a small pool of icy water on the silver plate below the vessel.  

Then the food arrived…. and kept coming….

Not less than three fried eggs, accompanied by Cevapis, the undisputed staple of Bosnian cuisine at any time of the day, together with fried fresh vegetables. There was smoked salami, fresh tomatoes and goat cheese, fried aubergine slices and freshly made, still warm bread. And just when you wondered when and who should eat all of this, the pan cakes arrived….

Food and coffee just kept coming and thankfully I had no plans for this morning, so that I could make time for this feast.

And yet, once I stepped out of the house, there it was again, the other temptation….

You just couldn’t avoid noticing it – the smell of freshly baked bread that came from the small bakery, located just at the end of the street.

This real hub of the local community produced and sold their fare at virtually any time of the day  and even at night.

Brajla didn’t approve of the bread at “Pekara O grada”, but the queues of customers forming outside in front of the shop, showed that not everyone agreed with my host.

Just too tempting were their chocolate croissants, their pastries filled with sausages, with cheese or with jam  or just their plain bread.

There was hardly any decoration in the shop itself, mainly because of a lack of space, but also because there was just no need for it – the smell and the display of the produce spoke for itself.

And sure enough, despite one of the most outstanding breakfasts I have had in a long time, I found myself walking away with a couple of delicious croissants, that had been too irresistible to ignore.

They surely would have their time later that morning, helped by another Bosnian coffee.

Just don’t tell Brajla….