Preserving fruit and vegetables is a national sport in Romania

“Romanian, Bulgarian, Serbian, by which travellers have associated a lot of meat because the menus in the restaurants are different to the ones people cook at home,” says cookery writer Irina Gerogescu. Bar the odd treat or celebration, home kitchens in this region are much more likely to be enjoying vegetables.

“Almost everyone at the back of the house has a little vegetable garden. The temperatures in the summers are very high, it’s a haven for tomatoes. It has the right climate for vegetables; a lot of runner beans, garden, peas, peppers, aubergine.”

Leeks may be better known to us as a national food of Wales (where Georgescu now lives having moved from Romania to the UK 15 years ago) but they were loved by the Romans too, becoming a culinary symbol of Oltenia, in the south of the country – and part of many national dishes, including eggs with sautéed leeks for breakfast.

It’s why 90% of the dishes in her latest cookbook Danube – which focuses on the cuisine influenced by this side of the river and the lands upon which it laps – are vegetarian. “I wanted to select those dishes that are very popular, but you won’t find them in a restaurant.”

Beginning in the Black Forest of Germany, the Danube goes through 10 countries, “When it enters Romania [through The Iron Gates gorge] it turns into a border between Romania and Serbia, further east is Bulgaria, and then it turns into the beautiful Danube delta, a UNESCO site, and flows into the Romanian Black Sea,” says Georgescu. And it’s this side of Eastern Europe and its food, influenced by a complex history and an eclectic ethnic fabric, that she wants to celebrate.

Heritage

Gerorgecu grew up in Romania’s capital Bucharest, a family of four in a small, one-bedroom home. But her grandmother hailed from Transylvania, in central Romania, and her grandfather’s family from Oltenia.

“We used to talk about some of the dishes of the south, and my grandmother used to just guess how they were made because we didn’t have cookery books or anything like that in those times,” recalls the 48-year-old.

The communist regime fell when she was 12, so before that some of her earliest memories of food in her home country include “queuing to get oil, butter, or nothing – sometimes queuing for hours and you’d have nothing in the end because the supply in the shop had finished”. So often cooking involved making whatever was possible out of what they had, during the times when electricity, gas or water was available.

“I have a lot of memories, especially before the regime fell, of preserving. It’s a national sport! We have to eat later in the year, so we had compotes, jams, slow-cooked roast peppers, aubergine, onions – put that in a jar and have it for the rest of the year. Fermented pickles, fermented tomatoes, fermented cabbage – because otherwise you wouldn’t have the national dish for Christmas and Easter called sarmale (cabbage rolls).”

So important, in fact, that her family kept a big barrel of brined cabbage, pickles and sauerkraut on their balcony so there was a constant supply. “Without sarmale you couldn’t have Christmas to be honest!” she laughs.

Meat was rare. “My uncle lived in Transylvania, so every December we would drive for six to eight hours to him to pick up a pig. He would prepare the pig in two days, we put it in the car and took it back to our apartment. There was not a lot of food around – for us, that was the shopping.”

Staple

Cornmeal (or polenta) was – and is still – an important staple in Romania; hot, creamy polenta with jam for breakfast, cold polenta sliced like bread and served with soup, or chopped thin into layers for a version of lasagne.

Historically, wheat was very precious, she explains, maize isn’t as expensive and easier to grow on hilly areas. It was introduced in these lands in the 17th century during the Ottoman Empire and it wasn’t taxed so landowners were encouraged to plant corn to feed the poor, and as a ‘plan B’ if the wheat crop failed. “And this is how we ended up with so many cornmeal dishes in our cuisine,” Georgescu says.

When flour ran out in UK shops during the coronavirus pandemic, “Cornflour remained untouched” – so she started an online cooking class to teach people how to make cornbread in lockdown.

But you can’t have a Danube cookbook without a few fish recipes. From the river, carp, catfish and trout are all key ingredients. “You will see the connection between the land and the river and the dishes, the influence that massive river had on the people around the river and in the Delta, because [here] the meat is replaced with fish,” says Georgescu – think moussaka made with fish (musaca de peste).

The river may be a political border today, but historically it was a route for trade and migration, “It was how Greek colonies travelled in the first centuries of our time,” she notes.”The river was always important.”

And now, there are many campaigns for bridges to be built across it, she says, they want to shop, attend festivals, and eat, across the river bank in Bulgaria or Serbia. “It’s an interesting way that we’ve come around”, people are “wanting to be connected by, not separated by, the river.”

Mămăligă la Cuptor | Baked cornmeal with sour cream, cheese and eggs

Ingredients:

(Serves 2)

500ml water

2tsp salt, plus an extra pinch for baking

150g fine cornmeal (polenta)

45g salted butter, plus extra for dotting

75g cașcaval or Cheddar, grated, plus extra for baking

200g sour cream

2 medium eggs, beaten

1tsp chopped fresh thyme

Method:

1. Preheat the oven to 180°C fan (350°F/gas 4) or the grill to maximum temperature.

2. In a deep pan, bring the measured water and salt to the boil. Add the cornmeal and use a whisk to distribute it evenly in the water. Reduce the heat to low, cover and allow the cornmeal to absorb the liquid for eight to 10 minutes. Whisk a couple of times throughout this process.

3. Stir in the butter and cheese, then pour the cornmeal into a 23 centimetre ceramic baking dish. Allow it to cool a little, then make a large well in the middle. Add the sour cream, sprinkle with a pinch of salt, then add the beaten eggs, working them a little with a fork into the sour cream. Place a few dots of butter on top and another sprinkle of grated cheese.

4. Bake or grill for 10 minutes, or until the eggs are just set and the cornmeal has a beautiful golden crust.

5. Sprinkle the thyme on top and serve hot.

Salată de Ardei Prăjiți | Vlach fried pepper salad

Ingredients:

(Serves 4)

For the honey and garlic dressing:

3 medium garlic cloves, grated

1tsp salt

2tbsp olive oil

1tbsp juice from 1 small lemon

4tsp runny honey

25ml (scant 2tbsp) water

For the peppers:

2 large Romano peppers

4tsp sunflower or vegetable oil

To serve:

50g white or feta-style cheese

Method:

1. For the dressing, use a pestle and mortar to blend the grated garlic and salt with the oil until it emulsifies and thickens. Mix in the lemon juice and honey, then dilute it with water. Set aside.

2. Slice the peppers into three to four centimetre-long wedges and scrape off all the seeds. Heat the oil in a frying pan (skillet) over a medium heat and cook the peppers until soft and with lightly burnt patches.

3. Transfer to a bowl or plate, pour the dressing over and crumble the cheese on top. Allow the flavours to infuse and the dish to cool. Serve with bread or as a side dish.

Pilaf cu Pui | Chicken pilaf with potatoes and garlic courgettes

Ingredients:

(Serves 4-6)

35ml (generous 2tbsp) sunflower oil

4 medium bone-in, skin-on chicken thighs

1 large brown onion, finely sliced

300g potatoes, cut into thick chunks

1tbsp white wine vinegar

250g long-grain white rice

1L vegetable or chicken stock

1⁄4tsp freshly ground black pepper

1 medium courgette

2 large garlic cloves

1tsp chopped marjoram, fresh or dried

Salt

To serve:

Good olive oil

Lemon wedges

Tomato salad

Method:

1. Preheat the oven to 170°C fan (325°F/gas 3).

2. Use a 23-24 centimetre, 12 centimetre-deep casserole dish with a lid (otherwise, cooking times may differ).

3. Cover the base with the oil and heat well. Sprinkle the chicken with salt generously, and fry the thighs in one layer for 15 minutes, turning often. Keep the heat on medium so they don’t burn, then transfer the cooked chicken to a plate.

4. Fry the onion with a good pinch of salt in the remaining oil over a medium heat for eight minutes. Add the potatoes, combine well and fry for another three minutes, then add the vinegar and scrape the base of the pan with a spatula to remove all those caramelised bits.

5. Place the chicken thighs on top of the potatoes in one layer, then scatter the rice on top and add the stock. Taste the stock to make sure it’s salty enough; if not, add more to the dish. The secret to a good pilaf is using a generous amount of salt. Add the black pepper, then cover and cook in the oven for 25 minutes. It will make a rather loose pilaf. Alternatively, cook it until the stock is completely absorbed.

6. Meanwhile, grate the courgette and garlic together and mix with the marjoram. When the rice is cooked, spread this mixture on top, put the lid back on and leave the pan to sit for five minutes out of the oven.

7. Serve immediately with a drizzle of your best olive oil, wedges of lemon to squeeze on top and a tomato salad.

Danube by Irina Georgescu is published by Hardie Grant. Photography by Issy Croker