Spilling the beans on Sarajevo

Sarajevo, the capital city of Bosnia and Herzegovina and host of the 1984 Winter Olympics, has emerged from its past of strife, fuelled by community spirit – and potent coffee. 

SilverKris

“Objectively, Paris is the most beautiful city in the world, and nothing in Sarajevo can be compared to Paris, but my heart never trembles in Paris like it does here... when I wait in line at the post office.” 

So says Goran Bregovic, one of the Balkans’ most successful contemporary composers. Bregovic was exiled in Paris when the war in former Yugoslavia broke out. And while the French capital still serves as his sometime base, it’s Sarajevo that holds Bregovic under its spell. 

This compact city, encircled almost completely by hillside and straddling the Miljacka river, has that effect on people. 

In the outer suburbs, scattered construction takes place among graffiti- splashed buildings, which still bear the pockmarks of wartime shelling. For the last 20 years Bosnia and Herzegovina’s capital has worked diligently to patch up the scars of the Siege of Sarajevo. rebuilding is all but part of the DNA of the city, whose history is littered with strife. 

Yet the heart of the city, where the old town has been restored to its former glory, beats with renewed fervour. Today, Sarajevo has the charm, pace and warm hospitality of a village or country town – one with a unique and vibrant cultural fusion. The Byzantine and Ottoman empires of the east and the Roman, Venetian and Austro-Hungarian empires of the west have each left an indelible mark on the city. 

Church bells peal as a muezzin recites the call to prayer, in one of the few places on earth where orthodox and Catholic churches, a mosque and a synagogue are within easy walking distance of one another. labyrinthine alleyways snake through the nearby Bascarsija (bazaar) built by the ottomans in the 15th century. and at all hours of the day, the heady scent of Bosnian coffee wafts across the city. 

Ah yes, the coffee.

BEANS THAT BIND 

Sarajevo barely rates a mention among the world’s most caffeinated cities. Can it compare with the likes of Vienna, whose world-famous coffeehouse culture was added to the UNESCO Intangible Cultural Heritage list in 2011? Or Rome, where names such as espresso and macchiato originated? Or Melbourne, whose scene is legendary, or Seattle, the birthplace of the world’s largest coffee chain? 

Yet Sarajevo positively brims with brew bravado. 

Ask any Sarajevan – from the concierge at 130-year-old Hotel Europe to the bartender at Pivnica, a restaurant and brewery founded in 1864, and home of the city’s beloved Sarajevsko Pivo beer – what they do in their downtime and the answer is the same: “We drink coffee”. It’s taken up to five times a day, with each break lingering between 30 minutes and an hour and a half. 

“We’re really obsessed with coffee,” says Azra Osmic, a shop assistant at local fashion label Thara laBoutique. “Whether it’s the start, middle or end of the day, it’s a time when you can relax with friends.” 

On a crystalline weekday, cafes all over the city are crammed with patrons. Stony-faced men in leather jackets sip their razdremusa (morning coffee) outside Caffe Bar Sebilj, as a flock of pigeons congregate around the cafe’s namesake, a pseudo Ottoman-style wooden fountain in the centre of the Bascarsija. 

Across town, on the Ferhadija pedestrian mall, jovial 20-somethings languish in the afternoon sunshine over cups of frothy pricusa (daily coffee drunk while talking), surrounded by European buildings housing continental brands such as Swarovski, L’Occitane and Mango. 

LOCAL LINGO 

While the contents of the cup largely remain the same, the city’s favourite pastime has given rise to its own extensive jargon, from docekusa (coffee to welcome guests) to sikterusa (to bid guests farewell). If someone serves you doljevusa (adding water to brewed coffee) – deceptively known as lazy or cheap coffee – it means they’re so enthralled by your company they want you to stay longer than planned. Or perhaps they seek courage in the extra cup; they want to divulge something for which they have yet to find the right words. 

When it comes to Bosanska kafa (Bosnian coffee), whose origins can likely be traced back to the Ottoman Empire, one word is better left unspoken. Don’t call it Turkish coffee. 

“There is a difference. For one, we drink it more than they do,” says Dino Lemes, local expert for luxury tour operator Insight Vacations, whose itinerary includes a visit to one of Sarajevo’s most famous coffee houses, the Viennese Cafe & Restaurant. 

The cafe is mere metres from the Gazi Husrev-beg Bezistan (the covered bazaar, built circa 1540) and the ruins of the Taslihan (once an inn for merchants and horses), but the experience is unexpectedly grand. Decked out in Austro-Hungarian style, chandeliers sparkle overhead as bowtie and waist-coated waiters deliver round copper trays bearing kafa to a mostly local crowd. It’s here I discover the nuances that distinguish the local brew from its more famous counterpart. 

Before it reaches my table, raw beans have been roasted then ground into a fine powder using a hand grinder. Boiling water is added to a gently heated dzezva (copper pot with a long handle), before the coffee powder is stirred in, and the pot is returned to the stove and brought to the boil. The resulting frothy kafa, still in its dzezva, is delivered on a tray accompanied by a small ceramic fildzan (cup) and a dish containing white sugar cubes and rahat lokum, a Bosnian sweet with an uncanny resemblance to Turkish delight.

Now begins the ritual of consuming the coffee, a considered and deliberate affair. 

One spoons the foam from the top of the pot then pours its contents into the cup, before replacing the layer of foam on top. If you’re lucky, the heavy grinds will stay in the pot, leaving you with a potent, bitter brew devoid of grit. To sweeten the situation, place a lump of sugar under your tongue – not in the cup – it dissolves as you drink the coffee. 

The key, any Sarajevan will tell you, is to sip it slowly. Like so much of this gentle, pretty city, unexpected sweetness awaits and it’s best enjoyed at a leisurely pace. 

Along the banks of the Miljacka river, stenciled in white on the pavement are the words “Mjesto za poljubac”, with an English subtitle: “place for kiss”. When peace and tolerance are hard-fought states, what’s treasured most are simple pleasures like time spent with loved ones. and strong coffee. 

This was originally published as the cover story for the September 2015 issue of SilverKris.