Do you know the sharp, ever present feeling of missing something when you travel? I don't mean the one that tells you that you're missing you family, your dog, your guitar or your boyfriend. I mean the one that screams: "I want my mama's food!" I think all travelers feel it from time to time. I've been documenting my homesickness for Slovak cuisine for a few months so here are some samples. They may seem a bit banal but they really put my heart back into its Slovak place.
Here is the imperfect masterpiece of my recently-acquired cooking abilities: perkelt. You may have seen this picture up on the blog earlier when we cooked it in Lusaka with the faithful help of my coworkers. In the previous blog post I called it paprikáš which turned out to be the wrong name. I was corrected by my grandma that paprikáš would require adding cream to the sauce. As you can see, Slovaks are very specific about their ingredients.
I also cooked the traditional potato halušky a few times but unfortunately we ate them before I could take any pictures. Yet another good reason to cook them again.
Sour bean soup of my grandma which ended up tasting quite authentically.
Carrot salad à la grandpa. I grew up eating this three times a week and I'm convinced that's why my eye sight has improved from +7 to +0.25 throughout my childhood.
French potatoes, Slovak style. Yum.
Now, I hope I will get to this level of cooking skill one day. It was made for me by my grandma after I made a surprise visit home in October. Eating this game (buck I think) sauce with dumplings and cranberry jam, I knew I was back on the block.
This one is a random piece of bread I snapped in Zambia. It reminded me of rožok, a type of white-bread roll you can only find in Central Europe. I know it sounds ridiculous, but it brought tears to my eyes.
Here is the imperfect masterpiece of my recently-acquired cooking abilities: perkelt. You may have seen this picture up on the blog earlier when we cooked it in Lusaka with the faithful help of my coworkers. In the previous blog post I called it paprikáš which turned out to be the wrong name. I was corrected by my grandma that paprikáš would require adding cream to the sauce. As you can see, Slovaks are very specific about their ingredients.
I also cooked the traditional potato halušky a few times but unfortunately we ate them before I could take any pictures. Yet another good reason to cook them again.
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