Kitchen Blues

There are many things that I will miss about Bosnia when we go, but one of the things that will not have me all dewy eyed with nostalgia will be our kitchen. Words cannot describe how much I hate our kitchen. Sometimes I go to bed cursing it.

I am of course massively spoilt. The kitchen is actually pretty big. There is a fridge the size of a small bathroom (thinking about it, I will miss the fridge. It is nice to have a big fridge). But, in common with a lot of Bosnian kitchens, there is no workspace. You think I'm exaggerating? Have a look at this. This is our entire kitchen and if I was any good at computers I'd draw you a nice arrow pointing out the vodka addled plums by the knives which have just been extracted from the plum vodka and ask for any ideas what to do with them. I digress, but any good ideas welcome in the comment box.


Things to note.

1. Look at the amount of workspace we have. Trust me, it is not very much.

2. There is no dishwasher. This fact in itself doesn't bother me any more. I'm so used to washing up that I actually am not even particularly bothered about having one any more. What does bother me is that there is nowhere to put the stuff that needs to be washed up. I mean obviously it goes in the sink, but once that is full it has to go on the (already tiny) workspace.

3. Hobs are electric. I hate electric hobs. Partly because I am a cook cook cook cookability kind of girl and love my gas hobs for the instant changes in heat, and partly because once you have used a hob it is on and HOT for quite a long time. You can't put pans on it. So you have to put them on the (really pretty tiny now as it is also covered with washing up) workspace.

4. I spend a lot of time whilst I am cooking dancing around with hot pots, sharp knives and muttering/growling that there is nowhere to put them down ANYWHERE! This isn't good for my sanity and doesn't make cooking an enjoyable experience.

5. I'm going to gloss over how close the electric points are to the sink (isn't this illegal and wildly dangerous?), how the drainage board plughole is actually blocked and therefore the water has nowhere to drain to and how the sink doesn't quite fit and therefore water spills everywhere whilst doing said washing up as, well, it is just me being narky and may be due to the fact that I went to bed last night still whinging over the kitchen.

So, obviously, although I'd have you believe that the kitchen looks like the above photo all the time, the reality is more like the picture below:


I'm so glad we are not ever going to have to attempt to cook a Christmas dinner on it. It is one of the world's great mysteries how Bosnian women manage to produce epic feasts at the drop of a hat and still have an immaculately clean kitchen at the end of it.

A Baking SUCCESS!

It was a time we never thought would come. Invited to a barbecue last night, we thought to have (yet another) go at baking something that might be acceptable to take along to a gathering of people, you know grown up people who might not be quite so accepting of the great chocolatey stodgefest that most of our cake baking attempts of late have resembled.

This time round, banana and chocolate chip muffins. Adam mixed and beat and I measured and poured. Into the oven they went and (Handel type Messiah music here) Halleluia! they rose. We took them to the party, heads held high and they were a real hit. People want the recipe and everything. We are cake making gurus. We are, in fact, Jamie Oliver and Martha Stewart.

Sadly the muffins are too late to enter the Great Blogger Muffin Off held a few months ago. But they'd have won. Truly they would have done. And for all those in Bosnia who let me know that they can't get their cakes to rise either (thank you for that, you have no idea how much better it makes me feel to know that it isn't just me struggling with the baking here!), try them. If we can get them to work, they must be pretty infallible.

stodgy cakes

Yesterday was a nadir in my cake making days. Usually I can bake cakes. I mean, they are not going to win me prizes at the local village fete, but I can add some combination of eggs, butter, sugar, flour and occasionally milk, chocolate and other yummy stuff to make something relatively palatable. Making cakes with the boys is a regular afternoon activity, best done the day before the cleaner comes. We all enjoy it, flour and eggs go everywhere, and sticky fingers create havoc, but it is a great rainy day moment, and there are a lot of rainy days right now so we have been doing a lot of baking.

Yesterdays effort, in theory a Nigella Lawson buttermilk cake (so easy it said on the recipe), ended up with the consistency of a stodgy flan and for the first time ever, had to go into the bin. I cannot work out why I can't get the cakes to work. Possibly the oven is not as hot as I think it is. Possibly my scales are very inaccurate (they are very inaccurate, but so were my English ones). I can't get to grips with the different types of flour here, but do feel that I know what plain flour is. The baking powder and bicarb of soda has been bought from England so should behave like normal. I have no idea.

Then, relief. I've been in contact with another Brit in Bosnia who is also struggling with cake making here. She can't work out the flour situation either and also has only about 5 recipes per recipe book that are usable out here. It's not just me! Phew! So, as long as we stick to chocolate brownies which don't need to rise then we should be ok. I'll just have to keep the Victoria sponge attempts on hold until we go home.

The Legend of Lukey

Luke reached the grand old age of 2 yesterday. Only 2 - it feels like he has been around for much longer (that may be to do with his disincilination to sleep). Full toddlerdom awaits us and I feel he will embrace the terrible twos with enthusiasm. He is a sweet little boy, loud, rumbunctious, stubborn, charming and a real one for an audience. He does exactly what he wants to do. On a walk, he will decide he wants to go back to the car and set off, without looking back or stopping and with or without the rest of us. Luke has taken to Bosnian life with enthusiasm. He likes nursery, he likes the food there and he is loved by the Bosnians who are charmed by his attempts to speak Bosnian and penchant for blowing kisses.

We had a small party for him on Sunday. I made a cake (which tragically collapsed, I have yet to get to grips with the different types of Bosnian flour, and am still trying to work out what might constitute self-raising flour, which most my cake recipes call for). Still the 15 or so people who came round sang Happy Birthday and gamely ate the stodge.

The tradition is that you take a cake to nursery on the day of your child's birthday. I'm quite happy to submit my friends to my baking attempts, but thought better of public humiliation at nursery so I asked Tanja, our lovely cleaner, if she would mind doing the honours. The cake appeared, the biggest cake I have ever seen, resplendent with Bob the Builder on top.

Bosnian cakes are quite different to the British ones, lots of layers and cream and coconut flakes. I have to say, I'm not the biggest fan. But the Bob the Builder cake was greeted with delight at nursery and none of it was left at the end of the day. The nursery did a really great job of making his birthday special - they sang Happy Birthday in English and Bosnian, danced dances and generally had a right old party. He won't remember it, but I do feel he had a pretty decent birthday.

Looking for lamb

Now, I have mentioned before that lamb roasted slowly on a spit and served simply with excellent bread (usually still warm from the oven) is one of the great Bosnian delicacies. It is also pretty commonly found in many restaurants along the main routes in Bosnia. So I wasn't really expecting to have any problems in finding any lamb neck fillets to put into my favourite dish.

I visited the supermarkets, no lamb for sale in any shape or form. I visited the butchers (at least 3) and nothing. Finally I found a butcher that did sell lamb, but only whole ones. That would definitely be biting off more than we can chew so I left it well alone. I've asked people where I can buy lamb and no one seems to know. Admittedly it is not the season for lamb at the moment, but I was expecting to be able to find some lamb, somewhere.

Going to make my favourite dish with beef and see what happens. I'll keep looking though, maybe I'll have more success in spring. Until then, I'll just have to visit a roadside restaurant to get my lamb fix.