I really need to get moving on this project or I’m still going to be working my way through the S’s when I’m 90….

On to our next country, Bulgaria. North of Greece and Turkey, south of Romania, east of Macedonia and Serbia, and the east coast borders on the Black Sea. Not surprisingly, its cuisine has elements of all of those, and we’re going to jump right in.

For our bread, returning to a sort of stuffed pastry, though not exactly empanada-like, we’re going with Banitsa, a word meaning “to lie down”. Considered practically a symbol of the nation, there are both sweet and savory versions of this pastry, and they call to mind various similar ones like Greece’s spanakopita or Turkey’s börek.

Our mise-en-place today consists of a package of filo dough – basically one huge sheet – that weighs in at 100gm, or just over 3 ounces. With that, we have roughly 250gm, or a cup of thick yogurt (since we don’t have that style here, I put it in a cloth lined strainer overnight to pull out most of the liquid. About the same amount of feta cheese. Five eggs. A half teaspoon of salt. And 2-3 tablespoons of butter.

Crumble the feta cheese and mash it up with the yogurt, four of the eggs, and the salt.

Cut the big sheet of filo dough in half, melt the butter, and brush it over the dough, covering it well.

Divide the cheese mixture between the two sheets like this, so that you have an edge to start rolling it up.

And, roll them up. Not very tightly – the instructions were to let it be a little bit loose, so that there are air pockets.

Coil them in to a buttered baking dish – this one is roughly 22cm, or about 8.5″ across. Use just the yolk from the fifth egg, and brush it over the top of the banitsa. Bake in a hot oven – 190C/375F – for about 40 minutes…

…until it’s puffed up a bit and golden brown all over. You want to serve this hot, so plan the timing to work with the soup. You can reheat it in the oven, it won’t puff back up quite as high, but it will stay nice and crispy that way.

The soup was a bit of a challenge – mostly to decide what soup was the most interesting to make. There seems to be little doubt that the sort of most classic soup of the country is shkembe. But, when it comes down to it, a) it’s a tripe soup and I’m not a huge tripe fan, and b) it’s literally nothing more than tripe boiled in milk, oil, black pepper, and paprika. It’s served with a condiment of garlic infused vinegar and chopped medium hot chilies. In other words, it just sounded kind of uninteresting. Likewise, though I like the soup, there’s tarator, which is an uncooked soup of grated cucumbers in yogurt, with chopped garlic, dill, and walnuts. It’s lovely and refreshing, but neither unique to Bulgaria, nor much of a challenge – you can literally make it relying on the previous sentence.

In the end, I looked at the family of soups called chorbas, which I glean basically means “soups”. The national chorba is one Bob Chorba, or “bean soup”. The ingredients sounded a little different from the typical bean soup that I might make, and it seemed a good one to go for.

Big white butter beans (500gm, a pound, dry), soaked overnight in water. A green bell pepper, two tomatoes, a carrot, an onion, a tablespoon of hot paprika, a teaspoon of black pepper, and two of salt, plus some mint and parsley. There’s some disagreement about whether it’s better to use dry or fresh mint – I had fresh on hand, so I went for a quantity that when chopped would yield up about 2-3 tablespoons (if you’re using dried, go for 2-3 teaspoons); and the same for the parsley.

Chop up all the vegetables, and the mint. The parsley gets added at the end, so it’s out of sight for the moment.

Skipping a photo or two, but the general consensus seems to be a multi-cooking technique. First, the beans went into water, brought to a boil, boiled for five minutes, then drained again. This takes out the “scum” that forms when cooking beans. Then, about 3 tablespoons of oil in the pot, high heat, put the beans back in, and fry them for about five minutes, stirring regularly. Then top it off with water to cover by about 2″, bring to a boil, reduce heat to medium, and cook them until they’re starting to be soft, but not fully cooked – about 45 minutes.

As that time approaches, saute the onions and carrots, with a little of the salt, until soft and starting to color.

Add the green pepper, tomatoes, mint, paprika, and the rest of the salt and pepper, and saute for about 5-6 minutes. Add to the pot of beans, stir well, bring back up to a light boil, and let it all cook until the beans are done – about 30 minutes more.

Add the parsley, taste to see if the seasoning is fine, and you’re ready to go.

Serve up a piping hot bowl of bob chorba with an equally hot wedge of the banitsa. Delicious! And perfect for what turned out to be a rainy, lightly chilly day.

Wow, there are still three more B’s to get through… next up, from landlocked Western Africa, Burkina Faso. What do I know about burkinabé cuisine?