Dish by dish

Mantije are made from thin dough cut into squares, filled with minced meat and packed side by side into a round pan. They are baked until browned, then poured over with soured milk, which soaks into the dough and binds the whole thing. They are ordered by the pan, not by the piece.

The city's tourist organisation notes that every household in Novi Pazar jealously guards its own recipe — a polite way of saying that mantije are argued about seriously, and every family has a firm opinion on where the best ones are.

Ćevapi here are made chunkier than in most places and served in a soft flatbread that soaks up the fat and juices from the grill. Finely chopped raw onion comes with them, and kajmak if you want it. A portion is counted in pieces — five, ten, fifteen — and that is the entire menu.

The uplands around Novi Pazar and Sjenica have been livestock country for centuries, and it shows at the table. As early as the 16th and 17th centuries the town was an important centre for trade in livestock products. Alongside sudžuk, the region's recognised products include Sjenica cheese, lamb and prosciutto.

The city's cooking grew at a crossing of influences, and it shows in small habits: coffee is drunk slowly and in small cups, tea is served in teahouses that stay open late, and in an aščinica you eat whatever was cooked that day — no menu, you look into the pots.

A pita is made from hand-stretched dough, coiled into a spiral or layered flat, and baked in a large round pan. In the bakery it is cut into portions and sold by weight, usually with a yoghurt drink. It is the cheapest, quickest breakfast in town, and bakeries are busiest first thing in the morning.

Sjenica cheese counts among the recognised products of this part of Serbia, along with Sjenica lamb and prosciutto. It comes from the Pešter plateau, the cold, windswept country west of Novi Pazar where livestock has been the main occupation for centuries. At the market it is sold in slices, out of brine.

The sweets eaten here come out of Ottoman cooking and share one method: something is baked or fried, then, still warm, drenched in šerbe — a thick syrup of sugar and water. Baklava is built from filo sheets and ground walnuts or hazelnuts; tulumbe are fried batter, crisp outside and soaked through, eaten cold; urmašice are semolina cakes shaped to resemble the date they are named after.

Sweets here are not eaten on the move. They are ordered in a pastry shop or a teahouse, with coffee from the džezva or with tea, and you sit with them — the same rule that governs everything else in this city.