"Eeeeeat"

In Belgrade we became friends with an awesome couple named Neda and Milutin. Zack and I (both marriage skeptics) admitted that these Serbian newlyweds “had it together.” From the two days we spent with them, it was clear their partnership was something to be emulated. Lucky for our homeland, it looks like Neda and Milutin may be Canadians one day soon; they are currently going through the motions of the Canadian immigration system.

Late one night after leaving the bar, Neda, Milutin and a group of about five of their friends took us to a restaurant (more of a food shack really) to try some famous Serbian meat, in this case an enormous hamburger folded with cheese stuffed inside (brilliant, I know.) Each of the late night grilling options could be topped with anything you like, including different vegetables and sauces.

While sitting on picnic tables and inhaling our grilled late night goodness, I asked Neda what Serbian people do on Sundays (it was late Saturday night after all.) With a mouth full of grilled spicy sausage topped with mushroom cream sauce, she responded in an exaggerated deep voice, “eeeeeat.” Bear in mind this is also the woman who told me that she once ate roasted pork so delicious she burst into tears.

Thinking about Neda and her unabashed/refreshing love of food inspired me to blog about some of the amazing (and some of the far-from-amazing) meals we have had so far on this trip.

Without getting to “dear diary”, I couldn’t possibly post about food without mentioning my ever turbulent relationship with food. Like a lot of Western women, I often feel guilty after eating and classify everything into “can’t have”, “can have” categories using an elaborate inner math equation based on what else I’ve eaten that day and how much exercise I’ll be getting. I know I’m not alone in this one since this very topic creeps into countless conversations with nearly every female friend I have. Thankfully things get put into perspective pretty quickly when you travel and while I’d like to say “I’ve been cured” of my hellish relationship with food, I’m happy to report it’s certainly mellowed. 

Going to grab a handful of these fresh home made ju-jubes became a habit very quickly in Sulaymania , Kurdistan. By the third day the shop owner prepared my dish of "take-away" treats when he saw me coming. 

Just when Zack thought Baklava couldn't get any better he discovered Baklava mashed up in custard. This dish was purchased as a gift from a nice guy who just happened to be in the shop, Kurdish hospitality never disappoints.  

Cevapi! If you think this looks like delicious breakfast sausages in a buttery nan-like bread, you are right. It's a Bosnian obsession to eat cevapi usually with a side of raw diced onions. This one was purchased for us by a friendly truck driver, driving a truck full of smelly cows to the slaughter house. Yes, eating beef in a truck on the way to a slaughter house it a bit morbid. 

Calamari baguettes (or bocadilos) in a Madrid "typical dish" according to our friend Devorah. 

Family breakfast at the farm in Banja Luka. Those are soy patties on the left, so delicious and the only vegetarian protein we saw in the Balkans. 

A dinner of champions while camping in the rain in Slovenia. 

Kumpir, the first thing we ate in Turkey. It's basically a baked potato  hand mashed with butter and cheese and then filled with everything you could imagine (corn, olives, spicy sauce, sausage slices.) 

One of many pizza sessions in Italy. This one was purchased by weight in front of the Duomo in Florence. It was good but nothing compared the pizza heaven that is Naples. 

Gelato mountains, also in Italy. 

Our first meal in Kurdistan at a road side truck stop between Turkey and Erbil. We were confused when more and more side dishes were being brought to the table, little did we know you were supposed to wave away the ones we didn't want. 

Squid stuffed with ham and cheese in Kotor. A local specialty and a major treat for us. 

Sometimes when you treat yourself (above squid dish) it means you need to be a bum the next day. Here is some over-boiled pasta and sauce from a jar that we packed for lunch as we hitch hiked down the coast of Montenegro. It tasted terrible.