Very few people in America are aware of how to dress when visiting a Dalmatian konoba for fine food and wine. Since LUKA dinners are all about sharing the konoba tradition in America, I suppose I should give some pointers. Please consult the photograph above for an holistic understanding of what’s expected from you sartorially at a LUKA dinner. These young Dalmatians were happy to demonstrate proper dress code and ordering etiquette for me at Konoba Posejdon in Sumpetar, on the Split riviera.

A trio of nuns in full habit look over the offerings at the central fish market in Split.

Of all the exquisite artisan food produced in Dalmatia, there is none as widely loved that resonates in the hearts and souls of the people like pršut (PURR-shoot). If you’re at all familiar with the prosciutto of Italy and jamon of Spain, you’ll almost know what to expect from pršut. True Dalmatian pršut begins with a fresh pork leg that’s cured in pure Adriatic seawater, then pressed between large stones to remove the brine. Next the ham is smoked and hung outside to dry in the blasting Bura winds over winter. Pršut is typically then aged for anywhere from one to three years in dark cellars or attics, where its flavors mellow and mature.

This dry ham is a distinctive experience in flavor, texture and aroma not found elsewhere, an unmatchable product of Dalmatia’s specific climate and ecosystem. Though passable, commercially produced pršut is available for purchase in supermarkets and butcher shops in Dalmatia, many families make and prefer their own. Once you’ve tasted true Dalmatian pršut, homemade with the time and love it requires, you’ll understand why.

For the next dinner, I’m taking advantage of the sardines and mackerel I’ve been seeing around again lately. These oily fish are prized on the Dalmatian coast for both their flavor and health benefits, and you should eat more of them. Leave the salmon and halibut alone for a change, and go for the silver. I always tell people about the omega-3 rush they should expect to feel shortly after eating mackerel or sardines, and some Dalmatians even say that you shouldn’t eat these fish after 9 pm if you want to get to sleep at a decent hour. Or, DO eat them after 9pm if you’ll be needing your “strength” for the night…

In any case, if you’ve been to any of the fresh seafood outlets in Portland in recent weeks, you may have noticed gigantic fresh sardines on offer. They are whole, with the head on, perfect for grilling. I remember the last time I grilled sardines in Dalmatia with my dear friend and sous chef, Gule, in his backyard kitchen. Many a Dalmatian will tell you that the sardine is their favorite fish, and once you’ve had good, fresh ones, grilled to perfection, it’s easy to understand why. America loves chicken wings as a bar snack. Throughout the Mediterranean, the sardine is practically the chicken wing’s equivalent (though, I’d say superior).

My first encounter with Dalmatian zucchini fritters occurred on the Pelješac peninsula in southern Croatia, where they are known as uštipci od tikvice. These exquisite little nuggets of vegetalia are pretty straightforward, down-home little numbers, so I’d be shocked if they did not exist in some form in the culinary lexicon of a few other cultures (They actually remind me of some of the whimsical concoctions my Grandma Mickey used to prepare).

My lesson in preparing these came on a sweltering afternoon in the tiny village of Kućište, a place of grand stone mansions still owned and inhabited by the descendants of old Dubrovnik sea captains. The respected village patriarch, Mr. Matias Glavaš, was my teacher. The rendition of zucchini fritters that he prepared for me that day while the stuffy Jugo winds blew in from the south could come from nowhere other than coastal Croatia, as his recipe calls for a splash of rogačica in the batter just prior to frying. This rare, bittersweet brandy steeped with carob pods is enjoyed as a cordial in the south, but in its stronger, more concentrated form it’s used as a medicinal. Unfortunately, I don’t have any rogačica to include in the batter (or share), but I know you’ll love these fritters. Just about everyone does.

For the main course, we’ll enjoy gregada of mackerel. Gregada is widely considered the oldest Dalmatian fish preparation, originating on the sunny, southern island of Hvar, probably with the island’s earliest Greek colonists. Fresh fish is cut into large steaks, then poached in white wine with potatoes, garlic and bay leaf. Served with plenty of broth for sopping up with bread, gregada is pure and simple comfort food for the seafood lover.

For dessert, we’ll have smokvenjak, a cake made from dried figs and raisins, almonds, lemon peel, aromatic herbs and a little brandy. Smokvenjak is said to have originated on the isle of Vis in Dalmatia. When the figs are harvested in late summer, they’re left to dry in the open air, to be used throughout the year. The traditional preparation of smokvenjak takes this a step further: Figs are ground with the raisins, almonds and other ingredients to a fine paste, formed into a simple round cake, wrapped in a fig leaf and then left to bake in the sun on rooftops for as long as a few weeks. The resulting delicacy is a delicious, nutrient dense, high energy treat that’s enjoyed with brandy, or even just eaten as a snack between meals. If, from this, you’ve deduced that even desserts in Dalmatia can be healthy, you’d be correct.

Other than these, I think the rest of the menu is fairly self-explanatory. For the meat, cheese and olive plate, I’d like to use actual Dalmatian pršut, the dry ham cured in sea water, smoked, and then dried in the winter Bura winds. With FDA standards as they are, the real thing can only be had in America if you know someone who’s recently smuggled a whole pršut in their suitcase. To that end, we’ll probably have Italian prosciutto of Parma, a suitable substitute. As always, I bake the bread fresh that day.

Assuming you’ll want to have wine or beer with dinner, the bring-your-own policy currently still applies to these such beverages. I would suggest a dry white wine to accompany this meal.

I hope you can make it, and as always, I look forward to cooking for you! Hop on over to the menu page to place your reservations or, heck, I’ll save you the trip and put the buttons right here.

One Seat – $50

Two Seats – $90

Rakija (RAH-kee-yah) is the catch-all term for any kind of spirit distilled from fruit in Croatia, and it pretty much translates to ‘brandy’. Just as there’s apple brandy, plum brandy, berry brandy and so on, varieties distilled from different source materials take more specific names. Here are a few:

šljivovica (SHLEE-vo-vee-tsa) – plum brandy

lozica (LO-zee-tsa) – grape brandy

kruškovača (KROOSH-ko-va-tcha) – pear brandy

rogačica (roh-GAHTCH-ee-tsa) – grape brandy infused with carob pods

In Dalmatia, the king of all rakijas is travarica (TRA-va-ree-tsa), a sophisticated spirit acclaimed as a superb digestive aid and tonic. It is quite simply an infusion of grape brandy and a variety of herbs, and there are as many recipes for travarica as there are people producing it. Some contain as few as 10 herbs, while others can contain 20 or more. Travarica often contains rosemary, chamomile, lavender, rose hips, matgrass, juniper, thyme, currants, mint or sage, but the list of possible additions is practically endless.

Pure grape brandy isn’t widely available in the US, but if you have access to good grappa (Italian grape pomace brandy), making your own travarica is not a complicated undertaking at all, All you need to do is insert the whole, edible herbs, flowers and dried berries of your choosing into a 750 mL bottle, fill the bottle with brandy and allow to infuse for at least a month. Of course, the longer you allow the brandy to take up the essential oils and aromatic components of the plant material, the stronger and more complex the flavor will be.