Traditional Croatian Peka
Peka is a time-honored Croatian dish, especially popular in the Dalmatian region where we are now. It’s a slow-cooked meal that takes several hours to prepare, using hot coals to infuse the food with rich, smoky flavors. This ancient cooking method has been passed down through generations for over a thousand years.
Recently, I found myself in Gornja Podstrana, a small village clinging to the side of the Mosor Mountain, overlooking the Adriatic. I was there to meet Peter, the owner of Carve Dvori—a place that does things the old way. No frills, just honest food. He makes Peka, a dish that’s as much a ritual as it is a meal. It’s about a 35-minute drive along the coast and up the mountain from Split, with breathtaking views of the Adriatic Sea and nearby islands. Peter prepares Peka several times a week in the smokehouse behind the outdoor dining area.
The preparation begins with either meat (usually veal or lamb) or seafood (like octopus, prawns, or squid) placed in a large pan alongside fresh tomatoes, herbs, root vegetables, and olive oil. Halved potatoes, rubbed with olive oil and spices, are then layered on top.
Meanwhile, wood is chopped, and several small fires are built to produce the necessary hot coals. Once ready, the deep pans of food are placed in a hearth and covered with a bell-shaped lid. Red-hot coals are spread over the lid, allowing the food to slow-roast for several hours.
About halfway through the cooking process, the Peka is uncovered and doused in wine before going back under the coals. Later, the potatoes are stirred to the bottom of the pan while the meat and vegetables are repositioned on top. After the final stretch of roasting, the Peka is ready to serve, usually family-style with bread and carafes of local wine. Peka is typically ordered for two, four, or more people, and must be requested a day in advance to give the chef time to prepare.
The night that I went to photograph this was a Friday, four tables were having Peka, including a 40th wedding anniversary party of about 10 people. After wining and dining for hours, they broke out a guitar and all sang traditional Croatian songs. This seems to be a common practice here in Dalmatia, one that I will miss when we leave for Zagreb.
I returned a week later with Mike, Vannah, my mom and her husband, Doug, who were visiting. Of course, we pre-arranged to have the Peka. It was a massive amount of food, and a special selection curated for us by Peter. We ended the meal with homemade pistachio cheesecake. Desserts here are not a sweet as I’ve found in most other places, especially the US. Cheesecake isn’t dense and super sweet and tangy like in NY, but much lighter, less sweet, and highlighting the pistachios or often times, local fruit used to top it off.
Marija, who works at the restaurant and makes the cakes, joined me for a drink that first Friday night after I’d finished her cheesecake. She even showed me photos of the beautiful apartment she owns (and rents to travelers) just down the street. So, if you’re looking for a charming place with a killer view, near a konoba that serves Peka and cheesecake, well, I know a girl.
