Hello and welcome!

Heart dictates, hands prepare.

My food memory comes not from recipes, but from flavours and familiar smells of my granny's and mum's kitchens in Serbia. It is the knowledge passed down through making and creating, almost never written down.

When I moved to the UK 15 years ago, I wanted to explore other cuisines, introduce new tastes while I was building a new life for me. New food and new identity went hand in hand. The profound need to immerse myself in my new surroundings took me away from familiar cooking smells, yet with every parcel sent I would get that silent confirmation about my deeper “muscle memory” cravings. Even nowadays, the first question mum asks me before I get on the plane is what I'd like her to cook for me for when I get to Belgrade. And I can almost taste it in my mouth before the plane touches down. Food served with hugs.

Food and identity are a complex story. I aim to explore that here by bringing you my Serbian food recipes.