Sylph-like in Sofia



Certain foods have no agnostics;
you either love or hate them. One such example is avocado, my favourite food. It's impossible to overstate the role it has played in my life. When the pangs strike I've been known to traipse around the dusky streets of Mladost in search of the elusive fruit. So imagine my consternation recently when I thought I had found a ripe avocado in our local Fantastico supermarket. I paid my 1.38 leva and returned home only to find it totally black on the inside. The evening was ruined.

My fondness for avocado runs in the family. My six-year-old daughter is a convert. Being a traditionalist I like it served with a kind of vinaigrette sauce – sugar, salt, mustard, lemon juice, oil and vinegar – or served with prawns or in salad.

The least favourite concoction I have tasted in Bulgaria to date is boza. It is made from skunk urine, donkey sweat, liquified cow dung and dog semen. At least that is my conviction. According to the official blurb, however, it's a malt drink made from wheat or millet. I'll never forget the first time I sampled it. Next thing I knew I was writhing on the floor. Now even the sight of a bottle of boza evokes painful memories and makes me nauseous. Having said that, this article is a panegyric to Bulgarian food and its obviously beneficial effects on the populace so I thought I would get anything unflattering out of the way first.

Heart attack on a plate

More and more British people are appallingly fat and no amount of excuses will convince me that it's anything other than gorging on the wrong food.

I remember watching many years ago a programme on TV in which I saw interviews with Glaswegians living on one of the city's council estates. The documentary focused on the area's extremely high rates of heart disease. They interviewed one guy of about 38 who had already had several heart attacks and said he did not expect to make it beyond 45. It's no surprise when you look at their diet. Take the traditional heart attack on a plate British breakfast: fried sausages, fried beans, fried tomatoes, fried eggs, white bread and lashings of butter. Some people eat that every day! Small wonder even young Brits have rubber tyres for waists.

British eating habits are very troubling, particularly that of our children for whom fizzy drinks and chips seem to be their staple diet. They seem to run to fat from an early age or seem unnaturally, prematurely developed. Are genetically modified foods producing genetically modified humans? I have a sneaking feeling that in years to come the hushed complaints about food additives will become a roar. It may also explain why British "
yoof"
is so troublesome and violent.

OK, so some of my favourites may not be exactly healthy – roast beef and Yorkshire pudding, battered cod and chips, fried chicken with mashed potato and sweetcorn, apple crumble and custard and bread and butter pudding – but I don't eat them all the time.

I never gave much thought to my own eating habits until I met my Bulgarian wife – who like her compatriots is sylph-like – in Portugal. She commented unfavourably on my lunch one hot summer's day – jacket potato swimming in mayonnaise and Marie Rose sauce. Until then I'd been happily oblivious to any deleterious repercussions. For the first time, at the age of 37, I examined my diet.

Natural food

My first impression of Bulgaria concerned the people. Unlike in Portugal and the UK, fat people are the exception, not the rule. Women with figures that would stop traffic in any British city walk around virtually unnoticed simply because they are everywhere, in post offices, shops, supermarkets and restaurants. The reason is simple. No self-respecting Sofia woman would eat a plate of chips for lunch. Chicks choose a bowl of tarator or shopska salad in the summer and soup in the winter.

Tarator, like most Bulgarian food, is a traditional regional dish, also available in other Balkan countries. It's made of yoghurt and cucumber (dill, garlic, walnuts and sunflower oil are sometimes added) and is very popular in the summer. It's particularly refreshing with little ice cubes and, like ayran, which is essentially the same mixture of yoghurt and water, very good for hangovers. No matter what outsiders may say, it is never served hot. Shopska salad, of course, is the traditional cucumber, white cheese (sirene) and tomato first course that is usually accompanied by rakiya.

For main course I prefer sarmi, a dish of rice in vine leaves or cabbage, traditionally served with other vegetarian dishes on Christmas Eve. The leaves come from vines and must be picked while still young and light green, otherwise they can be too hard to chew. Sarmi basically look like little packages wrapped up in those leaves – whether cabbage or vine leaves. The filling is made of pork-dominated minced meat mixed with rice and chopped onion sprinkled with pepper or mint leaves. This mixture is fried for 10 minutes, then the "
packages"
are placed in a big saucepan with water where they are left to simmer for some time to cook the rice. Other excellent dishes – and easy to prepare – are stuffed peppers and mish-mash, composed of eggs, peppers and cheese.

As far as desserts are concerned, I like baklava, a rich, sweet pastry made of layers of filo pastry filled with chopped nuts and sweetened with syrup or honey. Then there's kozunak, a sweet bread, to which milk, sugar, eggs, butter and raisins are added. In Bulgaria, it is prepared by adding lemon zest to the dough mixture. And, of course, banitsa, which is prepared by layering a mixture of whisked eggs and pieces of cheese between filo pastry and then baking it in an oven. Banitsa can be savoury or sweet, pumpkin being a particular Bulgarian favourite.

Eating out



Sofia is, of course, a comparatively cheap place to eat out, especially for those on Western incomes, now that duel pricing has technically been outlawed. Those on Bulgarian salaries, however, will find it increasingly expensive, compared to, say, five years ago. That said, Sofia is definitely at its best in spring and summer with its outdoor cafe culture.

One big difference hits you when you walk into a Bulgarian restaurant, other than the cigarette smoke. Unlike in the UK, for example, you seldom see anyone over the age of 60 or so eating out or even enjoying a coffee, which is a reflection on pensioner poverty and the impossibility of saving any money on the pittance that Bulgarians earn.

Bulgarians learn to economise in numerous way, especially when the autumn comes and they face the prospect of increased heating bills. Traditionally, they prepare jars of pickled vegetables for the autumn and for the winter. Pickles would normally include sauerkraut (or specially fermented cabbage in big tubs), also the so-called turshiya, a winter salad in tubs that babas (grandmothers) often prepare in advance. It's made of pieces of cabbage, carrots, onions, cauliflower, green tomatoes and peppers soaked in water with salt.

In the winter a good dish is gyuvetch, a delicious Bulgarian stew which was originally created by monks from the Rila monastery. The word "
gyuvetch"
actually means the container in which the stew is cooked, and varying regions and traditions will dictate the contents.

Although not all Bulgarian food is of the cholesterol-busting type, most of it is far healthier than British food and also extremely tasty. So what's good for your heart can also be good for your tastebuds.

Flaming Nora Nets now I have to go and find something to eat - I was doing great until I saw your post Lets check the cupboards

Thanks for posting fab!!!