Last Sunday afternoon I finally made it to Djerdan.
This was before Jim had discovered what the meat pastry pies were actually called, so we looked at the paper menu on the counter to figure out what sounded closest to burekjidi.
Buredzike seemed to be the ticket (or special slice) and the guy behind the counter brought out a pan of these little buns. I was so excited when I saw them that I actually clapped my hands and yelped ìThatís it, thatís it!î I really think they got a kick out of us, and I also think that my reaction earned us a free buredzike. The counter guy (owner? chef? both?) also mentioned that the buredzike was topped with sour cream, not yogurt.
The to go order was rounded out with a potato burek. But. As a result of the gorgeous day, the Bohemian beer garden started calling.
It is with a heavy heart that I admit that we didnít eat the buredzike and burek right away. Instead at the beer garden I had a potato pancake with pork. This is a potato concoction mashed up into a frisbee shape and deep fried with a pork cutlet in the center. I donít think I could survive a second potato pancake. Itís good once but oh so greasy and fried. Obviously no human could eat a burek or buredzike after what I ingested.
So buredzike and burek had to wait 24 hours for dinner the next day. From Jimís post, I realize that part of the deliciousness is the fresh out of the oven taste. The precious window of deliciousness had waned by the time I ate them. Sadly, I certainly didnít feel the ecstasy that Jim did. My friend felt differently and in particular gave a glowing review of the potato burek. This surprised me, because he is a raving carnivore.
Me thinks that the solution is to go back on a cloudy day so I wonít feel the pull of the Bohemian beer garden.