Wanting to explore the old town and see the bridge we’d read so much about, we stopped a man by the side of the road to ask directions. Not only did he give us directions, he offered his services as our guide and historian. An offer we gladly accepted.
He led us from the sun-baked asphalt onto the stone streets of Old Town Mostar, my sandal clad feet slipping precariously on the stones worn smooth as glass.
Captivated by the beauty of our drive through the Bosnian countryside that day, we had completely forgotten to stop for meals and were positively ravenous and utterly parched! Our guide immediately took us to a restaurant featuring traditional Bosnian fare. I knew I wanted to eat there as soon as I saw we’d be eating under a flowered arbor, next to a gurgling fountain, and that we got to cross this exquisite carpet to gain entrance.
We had scarcely taken our seats when we were visited by the restaurant cat.
Too hot and thirsty to even think of food, we hastily ordered mineral water and flat water and guzzled to our heart’s content.
My brother Ryan went for a massive platter of grilled cevapi, sausages, and other meats, grilled eggplant and mushrooms, cabbage salad, tomato salad, French fries, and ajvar, that wonderful roasted vegetable condiment beloved from Germany down through the Balkans.
I tucked into a cool and refreshing tomato onion salad followed by wonderfully greasy sausages dipped in mustard, and savory roasted potatoes.
Although we had no room left for dessert, I’ve since learned that Bosnians prefer fresh fruit or simple plain cake for their after dinner treat. In their honor I dined on fresh cherries this week.
What is your favorite dessert?