What do you think of when you think of Romania? Do you envisage Dracula sharpening his fangs in his tower in Transylvania? Of garlic necklaces hanging in the homes of Bucharest to ward off such evil? Or, do you think of a country filled with stray dogs roaming the streets? These ill-judged conceptions of Romania – of the people, the country and the culture – frustrate those who were born and live there and who have experienced an entirely different country to the one that is stereotyped.
The Romanian-born cook and food writer Irina Georgescu is one of these exasperated citizens. Her highly-acclaimed book, Carpathia: Food from The Heart of Romania, aims to dispel these clichés through celebrating Romania – and all it has to offer – through its unique, bold and flavoursome cuisine.
“The book is a personal journey,” explains Georgescu. “It is a collection of recipes not just for me, but it is also to tell the world about the people of Romania. You often get a one-sided view in the media but no one is telling you the positive side. I wanted a book that described our history, our culinary heritage. I wanted to provide people with a chance to learn more about us as a country.”
Before we delve into the book, Georgescu takes us back to where it all began; in a small apartment in Bucharest in the midst of communist rule under Nicola Ceausescu. She explains how the city was jampacked with tower blocks, how there was a six-day working week and that queues for rationed food was the rule rather than the exception; “Growing up during the communist regime, we got used to not having a lot of food around and so we had to always preserve fruit and vegetables. The shops would sometimes not have flour, butter or oil so we had to be, more or less, self-sustained.”
Every day, after her mother would come home from a laborious shift, and the family would come together and cook. With the few ingredients they had, Georgescu still learned the ways of cooking traditional dishes from cabbage leaves to sour cherry pies. “In Romania, we learn how to cook from our mother and grandmothers,” she says. “At Christmastime, we would make 150 sarmales (stuffed cabbage rolls) and would spend hours in the kitchen rolling out the leaves and chatting. My maternal grandmother also used to make this strudel and so I would help her stretch out the filo dough and prepare all the fillings – both savoury and sweet. Cooking was a sort of ritual that took time and patience.”
Georgescu says that owing to the restrictiveness of the regime, she has always understood the importance of farm-to-plate; “My uncle – who lived in Transylvania – would rear a pig for us every year as there was little meat in the shops. In three days, we would prepare the whole pig – the salami, the charcuterie, and all the cuts for roasting and for steaks. I soon realised how things should be reared and ingredients grown. It was a very important part of my culinary upbringing.”
Georgescu then studied Humanities at the University of Bucharest before pursuing a career in marketing in the UK. Being a stranger in London meant that she soon realised the cultural importance of food in linking families, no matter how many miles they were away. “All of a sudden, food was not something just to cook or to eat but something that brought me back home to my family,” she says. “For example, I knew in late August that we would make an aubergine dip at home because it was in season. I would then recreate it back in the UK to feel connected. Paradoxically, moving away from home was the thing that brought me closer to it.”
As time progressed, Georgescu started cooking traditional Romanian dishes – from creamy polenta to stuffed cabbage leaves – for her family and friends in London. Georgescu had sparked a culinary curiosity amongst her dinner party guests who were all desperate to know more. She went on to pursue a career as a food writer and cook, as a result. She set up her successful blog, Life in Small Bites, and in April 2020, she released her debut cookbook Carpathia to showcase her country’s underexplored cuisine. The book received glowing reviews from everyone from Nigella Lawson to Olia Hercules and is up for a Guild of Food Writers award for best International or Regional Cookbook.
Georgescu explains how Romania is a cultural melting pot that is situated in the heart of Europe. As a result, its cuisine has Greek, Turkish and Slavic influences from the south and east as well as Austrian, Hungarian and Saxon influences from the north and west. “If you look on the map, it’s impossible to not have influences,” she says. “The border between the Ottoman and Austro-Hungarian empire was the Romanian border and that is reflected in the cuisine. Our own take on food from countries from Croatia to Serbia, Hungary to Turkey is what makes our food so delicious.”
Within Romania, there are the rich, flat plains of the south and high peaks and deep forests of the Carpathian Mountains in the north, as well as the Daube Delta in the east. As a result, the foods and flavours tend to revolve around: creamy polenta, fermented vegetables and fruits, pilafs, pies, soups, cheese and cakes.
“We love fermented dairy in Romania – clotted cream and sour cream – we cook it with it the whole time. Whenever I make a cake or pie, I will use sour cream; it transforms it!” Georgescu enthusiastically says. “Since corn was introduced by the Ottoman Empire which traded with the Venetian merchants from Genoa, polenta has also been a huge part of our cuisine. It’s a real flavour-carrier so we tend to have it with fried egg, sausage, sour cream and cheese in a recipe called mămăligă.”
Georgescu also explains how a lot of cooking in Romania revolves around Borș. Not to be confused with Borscht (the beetroot dish), Borș is a juice made by fermenting wheat bran on its own or together with polenta. The juice is then used in meat or in vegetable broths to add a salty but sweet flavour. The Bors can be used in recipes such as Borş de fasole cu cârnaţi afumaţi (Butter bean borş with smoked farmhouse sausage and red onion salsa).
Other recipes in Carpathia that encapsulate Romanian cooking include Fasole bătută (butter bean dip with sweet caramelised onions), Tort de clătite cu spanac (Goat’s cheese and spinach crêpe cake), Tocană de fasole cu ciolan afumat (smoked ham hock and butter bean casserole), Pască (brioche basked cheesecake) and Cremă caramel de dovleac cu nucă şi stafide (pumpkin crème caramel with walnuts and sultanas).
Georgescu’s last ever supper would begin with the aubergine dip from Carpathia with some lardo. To follow, the cook confesses that she should pick cabbage leaves but she instead, opts for mutton pastrami served with polenta. For pudding, she picks her grandmother’s version of a sour cherry strudel. Not one for alcohol, Georgescu opts for a Turkish coffee as a sharp and strong digestif.
“There is a lot to say about Romania’s cuisine, but there are very few voices that have told the stories,” Georgescu writes in her book. “In these times, where tolerance and inclusion seem to be losing ground, I hope a book about Romanian cookery will help to dispel some of the misconceptions about Romania and its people. I can’t think of a more delicious way to get to know us than by enjoying our food, and I hope you will agree with me.” Safe to say, we do.
Prajitura cu caise (Apricot yoghurt cake)
Serves 6
Romanians love to bake with fruit, and we are blessed with plenty of it. This cake is very easy to make and can be made with apricots, cherries, peaches, blueberries or pears to create a multitude of versions and colours. The slightly sticky yoghurt cake is the perfect accompaniment to the delicate flavour of the apricots. It’s just the thing you need on a summer’s evening, with a scoop of ice cream or a little sprinkle of fresh tarragon – the aniseed flavour of the tarragon contrasting so well with the sweetness of the apricots.
Ingredients
3 eggs, separated
150g caster sugar
50ml olive or rapeseed oil, 50g natural yoghurt
1 tsp vanilla extract
Pinch of salt
150g plain flour
1 tsp baking powder
4-5 fresh apricots, halved Confectioners’ sugar, for dusting
Method
Preheat the oven to 180 °C/350°F/gas mark 4. Grease and line a deep 23 x 30 cm (9×31/2in) baking tin.
Whisk the egg whites until they form soft peaks and set aside. Beat the egg yolks with the sugar then add the oil, yoghurt, vanilla and salt, stirring well to emulsify. Add the flour and baking powder and gently fold-in the egg whites.
Pour the cake batter into the tin, then arrange the apricot halves on top, cut-side up. Bake for 30 minutes or until the cake is firm to the touch. Leave to cool in the tin, then dust with icing sugar and cut into long rectangular slices to serve.