Balkan countries comprise a confluence of cultures, and when they sit down to a coffee, history is at once brought to light and put to bed. The coffee culture of this corner of southeastern Europe is steeped in a history of ever-morphing empires and countries.
Throughout this whirlwind of changes, I venture that the people have learned to assuage, or perhaps pause, the changing of cultures, by having their coffee to sit.
Depending on the country, or better said, the people, the coffee influences come from different sources. Among the Serbians and Bosnians, coffee culture still has a strong hint of the Ottomans who had their coffee in caravansarais (roadside inns). During the 1970’s in Yugoslavia, the kaffic became the norm– bars that serve espresso, tea, soft drinks, alcohol, and maybe cigarettes– but NOT FOOD. Today, these are still the norm across the Balkan region.
Balkan Coffee: About Relationship
In contrast to Italy, where people enter a cafe and gulp an espresso shot while standing– in the Balkans the people sit down. Having coffee outside with family, friends, and business partners may never really be about the coffee. It’s about the conversations and relationships. The coffee bars are a social glue.
If the coffee culture was first a man’s world, it has certainly expanded. Ambling into town during the ‘afternoon dead hour’, one will find more men at the cafes than women, but that is not always the case. One morning in the Albanian town of Shkodër, we watched and marveled as people of all types, ages, and classes biked in for coffee with friends. No breakfast, no pastries – just a small cup of espresso and a glass of water – enjoyed for hours.
The Non-Espresso Coffee
Our first introduction to what I will call the non-espresso Balkan coffee was in Serbia. Depending on where you are, it will have a different name. The Serbians call it “homemade” (domaca) coffee, the Bosnians call it “Bosnian” (bosanka) coffee, the Macedonians call it “Macedonian” coffee. Sitting out on a patio in the idyllic village of Mokra Gora, our housemates Borko and Marjana enlightened us.
As we looked over the green valley below, Borko poured himself a cup of coffee from the long handled copper pot (after offering us coffee first!). He told us about a phrase the Serbians often use, something about when a man can make a good coffee, he can get married. Not knowing if they were even married, I turned to Marjana and asked if he could indeed make a good coffee. They chuckled. He could– she claimed; in fact, they had just been married three days prior!
As Marjana showed me some pictures of their wedding, Borko explained how to make a good coffee. First you boil the water (in the long handled brass pot), then mix in the coffee, then boil it again to get that perfect foam on top. Apparently the Turks have it wrong; both by not first boiling the water, and by adding sugar.
Bosnian Coffee: A true East Meets West Experience
Nowhere else have I felt the melding of cultures as much as I did in Sarajevo with a Bosnian coffee. A true East meets West experience. In contrast to Istanbul, where the vibe is Eastern, with Western influences and tourists, Sarajevo delivers a greater sense of balance.
Walking down the main street of Baščaršija one feels the charm of the trinket-filled bazaar, the mosques with minarets, and the whiffs of ćevapčići, sirnica, and baklava. Continue walking, and you will see the flame burning for war victims, simultaneously realizing you are on the Western side of town, among Western buildings and bakeries.
One feels the differences of the Bosniacs, Croats, and Serbians, each with their own religions.
Linger long enough and one is drawn into the contrasts, the hurts, the history, and the reconciliation of the city. I venture to say that perhaps, in its own way, it is the coffee that has kept the people together. And perhaps it still does– I witnessed it.
The Power of Reconciliation
My husband is an espresso aficionado. Though he grew up in Turkmenistan, he audibly made known his dislike for Turkish coffee. On the other hand, I was drawn to the display of beautiful copper coffee pots, trays, and cups…and that little clear piece of powdered lokum (think “Turkish Delight”).
On our first walk through town I yielded to having an espresso with my husband, but truth be told, I couldn’t stop thinking about the Bosnian coffee. The next time we walked into town, my husband promised I could have one. We decided we would need a place that served both espresso and Bosnian coffee. I envisioned making a true East meets West Instagram picture out of that.
As we walked back in to town the next day, we passed several buildings still with holes from bullet shots during the Sarajevo siege. We crossed the Latin Bridge where Franz Ferdinand was shot, triggering WWI. Continuing, we walked into town where one notices the different groups– some women dressed in full hijab, some in Bosnian kerchiefs and knee length skirts, and yet others in tight fitting jeans.
We found a coffee shop that looked pleasant and seemed to serve both espresso and Bosnian Coffee. Then my husband did something I was absolutely not expecting. He ordered TWO Bosnian coffees. TWO? The spirit of reconciliation must have gotten ahold of even him! Somehow he too was now ready to step into and appreciate the differences.
Isn’t that how reconciliation starts? To let go of our pre-conceived notions; to sit down with someone and enter into their experience. That is the power of a coffee. In this case, a Bosnian coffee.
The Cost of a Coffee
Throughout our time in the Balkans, we found it fairly affordable to join in on this coffee-to-sit culture. While we generally cooked our own meals, a coffee and a borek (a baked, filled pastry) were two accessible items.
Each country largely has its own currency and a varying exchange rate. My husband quickly started calculating the price of things by how many coffees it could otherwise buy him. It’s fairly easy to avoid the touristy lures if one realizes that you could instead buy ten coffees with that money.
Similarly, we would compare the cost of a coffee between countries. Generally the cost of an espresso ranged from the equivalent of 0.40€ on the low end, to 1.50€ in the more expensive places.
The cheapest espresso we had was in Albania, where it cost 50 Leke or 0.40€. Kosovo was likely the second cheapest. In Pristina’s main square we had a 0.80 € espresso, but we presumed it was less elsewhere. Bosnia & Herzegovina prices weren’t bad either. Espresso in Sarajevo was 1.50-2 Marks (0.75-1€), while in smaller towns it was as low as 1 Mark (0.50€).
Croatia’s prices, in general, were the highest. In Rijeka the prices were 8 Kuna (1€) for an espresso and tended toward 1.30€ in the beach towns. Even so, Croatia’s espresso prices are still lower than what one will find in France, Switzerland, and Austria (where we boycotted the cafe business entirely as prices soared past 2€).
When in the Balkans, plan to order a cup of coffee-to-sit. In doing so, you will join the myriad of cultures before, while reconciling with the present.
