Ćevapi: Ten Minute Balkan Bangers?
Before I first moved to Serbia, I would have imagined sausagemaking to be something for the pros. It hadn’t really crossed my mind to even attempt. Knowing that special equipment was needed, ageing rooms for anything in the charcuterie camp and at least a machine and source of skins for fresher sausages, it was a culinary feat left to the side.
Yet, the omnipresent ćevapi, a borrowing from the Turkish kebap, a word we know well the world over, are sausages anyone can make quickly and with minimal equipment. Ćevapi occupy a strange middle ground between kebab and sausage, skinless and best grilled over coal they certainly evoke their namesake. Yet, they have an interesting ingredient that renders them very sausage-like. They are also generally served in the fashion of kebab, barbecued, in bread and with condiments. This simple, unpretentious presentation has led ćevapi joints to be hotspots of social activity in the Balkans. Though my major experience of them was in Belgrade, many of the places there advertise themselves are offering Sarajevo style ćevapi. This indicates that they will be free from pork, a common addition in Serbia, and generally of pure beef. In Serbia, we often see a mixture of meats; beef, pork, lamb in varying proportions. Yet, the popularity of this Bosnian style indicates that the purity of the beef is more than enough once everything is put together. For this reason, I only use onion and a little hot pepper in my beef.
There are, however, two crucial ingredients that we mustn’t overlook. Salt is a transformative chemical, it deeply affects taste perception, alters protein structure, many things. In this case, we want to imagine the difference between a burger and a sausage. A burger is beautiful when the meat is loose and handled very little, it remains crumbly and juicy. A sausage is not like this, it has a certain snap and structure that retains juice. This is what ćevapi should be like, my first try lacked this even though I salted and rested them, just as the charcutiere’s theory indicated. Something was wrong…
The Other White Powder
Indeed, salt here is mostly seasoning. It doesn’t quite push the ćevapi far enough. Instead, we will use a little Sodium bicarbonate (baking soda) This stuff will break down the protein and cause it to link into a sausage-like structure. You can see the transformation as you work the meat. It becomes much stickier, much more integrated. This transformation affects the whole process, as you will see. When the meat is shaped it relies on this transformation, when cooked this alkaline marinade will cause the surface to crisp and brown in a stronger way, the whole interior will retain juice like a good banger. Only a little is needed because it has a strong soapy taste and a little goes a long way. Some of the acid in the onion will offset it but, roughly, a scant 1/2tsp per kg of meat is a good start. So beef, onion, paprika, salt and soda. Simple. If the meat lacks fat, you can add a little (I often drop in some suet for flavour depending on the beef I’m using)
The Gore Fest, I mean… Process.
Anyone who has seen Pink Floyd’s The Wall will remember the vivid scene where the schoolchildren are minced to Another Brick in The Wall, it’s quite sublime and much in the vein of sausage making. Now, I promised that for this recipe there would be no special equipment needed, and that is the case. However, if you want a great and fascinating hack for perfectly formed sausages, here it goes. You need an empty coke bottle (a larger one that mine is probably easier to work with as the wider funnel is more accessible). Ćevapi are often extruded through some kind of funnel. This gives them a uniformity and finish similar to sausages but without the skin. Using this information, we can create, in true Balkan fashion, a makeshift meat press with a coke bottle cut in two.
First cut the bottle so you have two pieces like so:
And clean them well.
Next take your chilled meat mix, which should have become profoundly sausagesque, and get ready to press. It’s surprisingly hard work, which is why we cut the ‘funnel’ so short. The best part is that this rather macabre (if you have an iffy relationship with raw meat then caveat lector) contraption can be thrown away with no cleanup, much better than a funnel (this is one of the few times I choose not to be environmentally conscious.) You can then cut the sausage length into finger-sized pieces and you are ready to roll!
Yes, a few ‘interesting’ thoughts about this extrusion ran through my mind, it’s quite a sticky and gross process but gives nice even results, just make sure to push the meat down to remove any air or the sausages will break. The nozzle on this type of bottle is the perfect thickness, however; so if you choose to handroll them, you have a guide.
Is it a kebab if you serve it as a kebab?
Once you have these little sausages, which can rest in the fridge until cooking time, you will need the accompaniments. The setup is quite simple:
5 or 10 pieces are served in a bread called somun or lepinja, this is all topped with onion, ajvar, kajmak and sometimes cabbage.
Now there are probably a few unfamiliar terms there, so I will deal with these: basically somun and lepinja are the same thing, they are a type of thick Balkan pita bread, pita is an adequate substitute in a pinch but I’ve included a recipe for homemade somun that, with a little time and effort, blows anything industrial out of the water!
Ajvar is basically a red pepper relish, you can use anything in that vein, even chilli sauces work in a pinch, but the beauty of ajvar is that it is made of mostly mild peppers so has a lot of flavour. I plan to deal with the real recipe at some point but I’ve included a recipe for a quick cheat’s version below. I often use this when I can’t be bothered to roast, skin and grind peppers then simmer them for hours, this version needs an immersion blender and 15mins, a perfect project while the bread is rising.
Finally the elusive kajmak. This is basically a cheesy clotted cream that I have only seen in relevant ethnic shops, there are also Turkish, Middle Eastern and Caucasian versions of this spread. But basically, if you can’t find it, it’s time-consuming, it’s labour intensive, it requires raw milk... It’s a nightmare. I’ve included a substitute, but sometimes, even in the Balkans, sour cream is a perfectly acceptable alternative. My own substitute is inspired by the tirokafteri of Greece (more foreign words!?) basically a crushed mix of feta and peppers used as a dip. By mixing Balkan or feta cheese with a little sour cream and mashing it, you get a get tangy, salty dairy product to top your pita full of power. Plus it takes 30 seconds.
Onion and cabbage, if you don’t know these I’m not sure you should be reading this article much⸮ But roughly, the onions should be cut into small cubes or skinny half-moons and the cabbage very finely shredded.
All that’s left is to cook the ćevapi over high heat until nice and golden and crispy, the baking soda really helps with the browning and crust formation, you will be surprised. Better still, they can be barbecued. In fact, if you set up a workstation and make a large quantity this becomes a very appealing and slightly more interesting option for a large barbecue, each part of the recipe being easily scaled up to provide for a crowd. I actually tried this for a crowd of about 20 and the only time I was away from the party was the 15–20mins while grilling batches of sausages. The rest was all preprepared and left to self-service. I made the bread dough the night before and baked it while cooking ajvar and preparing the other bits. Truly simple and not a lot of washing up either!
For the recipes, see Atlantic to Adriatic
