Serbs, Croats, Bosniaks, in-fighting, protests, concentration camps, riots – that’s pretty much what most of us likely think of when we hear about Bosnia and Herzegovina (well, we hear about Bosnia… has anyone ever said the word “herzegovina” to you in polite company?). When I was growing up it was part of Yugoslavia. It’s only been an official separate country since 1992, and it’s been embroiled in internal strife pretty much all the time. I know its capital is Sarajevo. I didn’t know that it’s roughly the size of West Virginia, but only has a population smaller than, say, Manhattan and Brooklyn combined. And I knew (and still basically know) nothing about its gastronomy.

That, however, at least when it came to a national bread and soup for this project, turned out to be relatively easy. The clear front runner for the soup was Begova Corba, or, in English Bey’s (or Beg’s) Soup, “beg/bey” apparently being a term for a provincial governor back in history, so… governor’s soup? And the bread wasn’t much more difficult, a classic semi-flatbread, like an extra thick pita without the built-in pocket, Lepinja.

 

Let’s start with the bread, as usual. 4 cups of bread flour, 1 packet (2½ tsp) instant yeast, 1 tsp sugar, 1 tsp salt, 1 tsp baking powder, 150 ml (roughly 5/8 cup) warm milk, 240 ml (roughly 1 cup) warm water. Proof the yeast in a little of either the warm milk or water, then mix all the ingredients together and knead until smooth.

Put in a lightly oiled bowl, cover, and let rise…

…about 45 minutes until doubled in size. Then, repeat that – knead the dough for another five minutes until it’s knocked back down to a smaller ball and then back into the bowl, covered, and let rise a second time to this point – another 45 minutes.

Divide into 6-8 even balls – depends on how big you want your lepinja to be. Cover and let rise for 10-15 minutes.

They’ll end up expanding a fair amount in that short time… but we’re not done….

Gently flatten them out with the palm of your hand – you don’t want to squish them flat and knock the air out of them, just flatten them a bit, and then with a sharp knife or razor, score them in a diamond pattern on top. Cover and let rise another 20 minutes….

…and they’ll puff up nicely.

Into the oven and bake at 210°C (400°F) for 6-7 minutes, then lower the temperature to 150°C (300°F) for another 11-12 minutes until golden brown on top. And voila, we have lepinja. Wrap them in a cloth, the steam as they cool will soften the crust, which is apparently what you want.

Some of the recipes said they’ll be easy to split open, some said you need to cut them open, I found the latter, at least made this way. My sense is they should have come out lighter and airier than they did, but they were soft, light, and delicious. Practice, practice, practice….

 

Bey’s Soup is based on okra, to give it a particular flavor and texture (and not the slimy texture often associated with okra, as you’ll see), and the soup is thickened and enriched with two methods. The meat is secondary, with chicken seeming to be the most common, and beef second most.

What we have here is a ½ kg (1 lb) okra, 4 carrots, 2 celery stalks, 1 lemon, 8 chicken legs, 2 tsp salt, 1 tsp pepper, 1 tsp ground bay leaf (or 2 whole bay leaves), 100 gm (3½ oz) butter, 3 Tb flour, 2 egg yolks, 2 Tb sour cream, and some parsley.

Dice/slice the okra into roughly 1 cm lengths, put in a pot with the juice of the lemon, cover with water, bring to a boil, and over low heat, cook for 45 minutes. This will remove that slimy texture, as we’ll drain off the liquid…

…ending up with soft, well cooked, and lemony flavored okra.

Dice the carrots and celery and put in a pot with the chicken legs and the spices. Cover with water, bring to a boil, and then reduce heat and simmer for an hour.

Remove the chicken legs, take the skin off, and coarsely chop the meat, then return it to the pot and continue cooking for 10-15 minutes more.

Make a roux with the butter and flour, over low heat, cooking for 5-6 minutes to get the raw flavor of the flour out of it.

Whisk the roux into the bubbling soup.

Whisk the two egg yolks together with the sour cream and then whisk into the soup, and add the parsley, chopped. Adjust seasoning if needed (I found it to be spot on). Serve with a wedge of lemon and a dollop of additional sour cream, if you like.

Both the soup and bread absolutely delicious. I think this was one of Henry’s favorites of this whole series of experiments – he invited a trio of friends over just to try both. I’d happily make and eat these again, anytime.

And, once again, the money shot….

Next time, back to Africa, and Botswana.