Meal 76. Serbian Slavski Kolač, Sarma and Gibanica for Slava (Patron Saint's Day Feast)

The four constants of a Slava: bead, žito, wine and a candle

Though tonight is the very first time I meet Ivana in person, we have seen and talked to each other online dozens of times, as we both followed German classes during my first months in Berlin. We are both quite proud and relieved that we did manage to pass the so-called C1 German exam in our first attempt. For Ivana, it means one step closer to working as a maths teacher in a school, like she did back home in Serbia. At the moment, she mainly focuses on private tutoring. 

I am very lucky to have been invited to a truly special meal this evening. Before the invite, I had no idea about Slavas, a uniquely Serbian tradition. Every family has a patron saint. On this saint's day, a specific meal with traditionally prescribed elements is prepared, and during the Slava, family and friends can come by without invitation to partake of the copious amounts of food that have been prepared in advance. In this case, Ivana has indeed been up till very late the previous day (3am!) to get everything ready for her family's saint, the female St. Petka. After arriving and having a "Turkish coffee," Ivana shows me the elements of the Slava that are the same, whatever saint your family's patron saint might be. They are a specific bread, red wine, a candle, and žito (wheat pudding with walnuts). The 'festive bread', Slavski Kolač, is a thing of beauty. Round, with a decorative braided crust and a brioche like texture. It is made with white flour, milk, eggs, and butter. It is also served on Three Kings when the tradition is to stick a coin inside (the person who gets the piece with the coin is the lucky one!) and the top of the loaf then has specific decorations of the cross, leaves and flowers. Though each Slava has the four classic elements, the other food served is different. For instance, families celebrating St. Nicholas prepare dishes that are either vegan or contain fish ('fasting' recipes). 

Slava bread (Slavski Kolač) with beautiful braided cross decoration

Interesting to me is that for Ivana, and for many others of her generation, the tradition of the Slava is both very old (going back to the 9th century), and new, as during Communism a lot of the Christian celebrations were put on hold to some extent. You could call it an 'interrupted tradition' on a national level, though now it is protected by Unesco as Intangible Cultural Heritage.

Predrag, Ivana's husband, cutting the ceremonal cross in the bottom of the bread

 Normally the specific patron saint (determining the date the family's Slava is celebrated) is inherited from father to son. A married woman would take over her husband's saint. Ivana's case is a bit of a variation, as she did not grow up with her father celebrating his patron saint (he would normally go celebrate with his brother). She did participate when her (maternal) grandfather hosted St. Petka. As an adult, Ivana decided to celebrate her Slava again. By now she has inspired her mother to do the same. I like how she gives the old traditions her own twist. She also makes the Serbian bread regularly in Berlin, with all the typical ingredients, but using her modern bread machine to save time.

 

The Sarma, cabbage rolls filled with ground meat and rice

Though Ivana seems to have prepared enough food for a few families ahead of time, she has saved one dish to make while I am there, the 'filo pie', called gibanica. Not coincidentally, this is quite similar to the delicious potato and filo based krompiruša I had for my Bosnian meal. In this Serbian version, the filo is brushed with a mixture of cottage cheese, eggs and oil, which is repeated layer after layer. Ivana herself used store-bought filo, which I would recommend for all but the most ambitious home cook. However, both her mother and grandmother, as well as her husband Predrag's grandmother would make the filo dough themselves, which takes skill, time and a big table!

The gibanica aka 'filo pie'

The dinner consists of many different courses. First we have a platter with meats and cheeses and dips, including ajvar, made with bell pepper and eggplants. The festive bread is ceremiously cut in a cross shape and some red wine poured over the cross. Then we have sarma, stuffed cabbage rolls, which remind me of the gołabki I had with a Polish family. I am already stuffed myself by the time the main course arrives! I try to take only small portions of the roasted pork, turkey and potatoes.

Roasted turkey and pork with potatoes, and a fresh side salad

Over the hours it takes to get through the many dishes, we have discussed all kinds of topics, including how Ivana and her husband got together as students, their time in Belgrade and London, Serbian churches not having any seats, the unconvential artist called Rambo Amadeus, and the history of the country going back to Ottoman times. We do also touch on the most painful event in recent decades, and Ivana is willing to share her memories of that time. In 1992, her uncle and aunt lived in a muslim city in Bosnia. They initially did not want to leave, as they were caring for an elderly relative who was too old to move. They did send their two young daughters to safety with a neighbour, who brought them to Ivana's family apartment, which only measured 54 square meters. For about three years, this meant the four kids of the household slept in one bed. During the first years of the war her cousins had no contact with their parents at all, as the phone lines were cut. Finally, Ivana’s mother managed to contact the parents by amateur radio, and in 1995 they also came over, meaning now eight people lived in the same small apartment! 

 

 

Ivana and Predrag are keen not to hold on to sectarian divisions, and mention friendships in Berlin and London with Croatians and a Serbian Muslim family. Though they do miss their country, it would not make sense to go back from a financial perspective. As well, their teenage daughter is fluent in German by now and doing very well in school here in Berlin.

 

For dessert, Ivana apologizes that she is only serving one dish. In a full Slava catering to large amounts of guests, the hostess would normally present a platter with lots of different petits-fours. I am already very impressed that she made the filled wafers (oblatne) herself. She blended together walnuts with powdered sugar and biscuits, then stacked about six of the thin wafers on top of each other with the sweet paste spread in between the layers. They are cut into diamond shapes, which are arranged to produce pretty little stars.

I feel incredibly grateful to have been able to celebrate such a traditional festive event here in Berlin, and to have been able to get to know Ivana's warm personality so much better in person now. Before heading out, I am handed a full bag with sarma, žito, gibanica and oblatne to go home with. Basically, I have enough food for four more meals! I enjoy the savoury treats fo the next two days, though I do share the oblatne with my colleagues, to help spread the joy of Serbian food. 

The oblatne, wafers filled with a sweet walnut paste