It’s
all very well following the old adage “When in Rome…” but in order to do so,
you need some insight into the locals.
What do they eat & drink?
What occupies their time? What
are the traditions and ways of the Montenegrins? In short, who are these people?
The
men are invariably called Dragan, Slobodan or Nikola – most are dark and
handsome and plenty are tall (it’s no co-incidence that one of the national
sports is basketball!). Common names for
the women include Gordana (Goca), Dragana and Jelena. The latter means ‘deer’ in local language –
so aptly named, as they are often thin and graceful, all legs and big
eyes. Overall, in my experience, they
are a beautiful race, inside and out.
They
can sometimes come across as brusque and sound aggressive – a local friend of
mine tells a wonderful story of bringing her English friend to Montenegro for
the first time and as she chatted to the taxi driver on the journey from the
airport, her mate sat transfixed and anxious, thinking there was an argument
ensuing as the tone seemed harsh, the cadence too passionate and the volume too
loud for ‘normal’ conversation! But in
fact, they are generally very friendly, welcoming and generous souls. Their primary way of showing hospitality is
to lay on food and drink in ridiculous proportions – dried figs arranged on
platters, nuts, olives, slices of cheese and meat to be washed down with tea
(homemade mint or other herbs), coffee (usually Turkish style, strong and black
with a thick sediment) or homemade ‘sok’ or syrups (sage-flower and elderflower
cordials are especially delicious and refreshing). The ordinary folk are pretty poor by Western
standards but will not scrimp on making a guest feel properly welcome. This will often include getting out the
homemade ‘rakija’ – the generic term for the local hooch, distilled from pretty
much anything: left-over grapes provides ‘loza’ (the most common ‘fire-water’),
‘slivović is made from plums and my two favourites are ‘viljamovka’ make from
pears and ‘dunjevaća’ made from the fruit of the quince tree.
In
the same way that the English will respond to most situations by saying: “Sit
down dear and I’ll make you a nice cup of tea”, so the Montenegrins will pour a
shot of loza: to calm nerves, celebrate anything and everything or simply to
get one kick-started on a slow morning!
Take my advice and sip it. The
flavour is normally delicious once the burning sensation has faded and if you
neck it, you’ll miss this. But more
importantly, an empty glass will quickly be re-filled and it’s sheer bad
manners not to drink!
By
the way, if you’re a big fan of English tea though, I suggest you bring your
own as the local black tea (crnji or ruški caj) is a poor substitute for a
well-brewed Yorkshire Tea.
The
food in Montenegro is simple but delicious.
Summer fare is predominantly grilled meat or fish with salad and chips,
accompanied by lots of fresh, fluffy bread.
You’ll almost always find a Njeguši steak on the menu and this is worth
trying at least once. It’s a pork
fillet, stuffed or sometimes just piled high with, cheese & ‘prsut’ (the
local equivalent to prosciutto, a cured and smoked ham). Njegoš is the famous poet and scholar, adored
and lauded in the land, laid to rest in the famous mausoleum in Lovčen National
Park and this dish is named after him.
Although
the summer here is wonderful, I also recommend visiting in the Autumn and
Spring, not only because it’s quieter, with less tourists and the cooler
temperatures (but still mostly sunny weather) are more conducive to exploring
this small but stunning country, but also because the cuisine outside of the
summer season includes such delights as: ‘sarma’ (minced, spiced meat &
rice wrapped in cabbage leaves and served in a rich sauce), ‘gulaš (the local
version of the Hungarian goulash stew) and ‘pasulj’ (slow cooked beans in a
rich tomato sauce, beside which Heinz 57 varieties pales into insignificance).
There’s
one more thing to say about the food – a staple ingredient here is
cabbage. They preserve it in salted
water, pickle it in oil and vinegar, serve it shredded as salad, make soup from
it and stuff peppers with it. They grow
fine tasting cabbage in these parts and I’m totally hooked on making the local
sauerkraut (which doesn’t taste anywhere near as acidic as versions I’ve tasted
in Germany). Interestingly, it turns out
that cabbage has mildly sedative properties which might explain why folk are so
wonderfully chilled out over here!
More
to come on the cultural quirks of these fine people in the following
weeks. If there are any specific
questions you have about understanding the Montenegrins and fitting right in,
please post them as comments.
