In the Balkans, meals are not served in the French order of starter, main, dessert. Instead, the trpeza is laid: a large communal table where everything arrives together or in slow waves. You begin with a small glass of rakija and meze bites (cheeses, ajvar, cured meats), move on to grilled meats and pastries, and finish with a thick coffee and a sweet offered to the guest. The meal is less a sequence than a long conversation around dishes placed in the center, where everyone helps themselves as time goes by.

In post-war Serbian cooking, the fleshy red pepper, grilled until the skin blackens then peeled, is the fragrant, smoky soul of almost everything: it colors ajvar, accompanies grilled meats, perfumes autumn preserves. It is the taste of a modest Belgrade where September's abundance was transformed into winter supplies.