Kirsten Eats Flija

On Monday, I went out to a small village to observe one of my university students doing her practise teaching. I observed three classes: one eighth grade class, one fourth grade, and one third grade. These photos are from the third grade class.

In this photo, students are huddled around a group of tables trying to identify pieces of clothing that were hand drawn by the teacher onto slips of paper. Resources are scarce. Where a US-based teacher might be able to print something off the internet using a color printer, or maybe the teacher might be able to run down to the Parent/Teacher Aids store to buy flash cards, a Kosovo teacher doesn't have the same luxury. This particular teacher doesn't have internet, doesn't have a computer, and doesn't have the money to buy flash cards (which, incidentally, aren't even available).


These two shots show the homemade flash cards. I didn't ask how much time it took her to make these, but it must have taken an evening. All of the figures are hand drawn and hand colored. It's unfortunate that lamination machines are virtually unheard of because after being handled a few times by young kids, these cards won't last.

After I observed my student, she took me to her house where her mother had made flija (pronounced flee-yuh). Flija is one of those Kosovar dishes that's made at home. It can be bought in shops, but homemade flija is the way to go. It's made outside over hot coals. Imagine a large round pan (and I do mean large...think a 1.5 foot diameter pan...Texas sheetcake large). This pan is laid into a pile of hot coals (in this case, the coals were held in a wheel barrow). In a mixing bowl, flour and water and salt have been mixed to form a batter (slightly runny). Once the pan heats up, a thin layer of batter is poured into the pan, covered with oil, and a large lid is placed on top. After that layer is cooked, another layer is poured in the pan, oiled, and, again, the pan is covered. This process continues for about 2 hours. When everything is completed, you get a large round pan full of layered batter. The taste of flija reminds me of what crepes that have been stacked together would taste like (that is to say, not-too-eggy crepes).

Traditionally, flija is eaten with cheese or jam. In my case, we ate it with cheese that the mother had made, and with peppers pickled and canned by the family in the fall. We also had some homemade yogurt with cucumbers. The yogurt is helpful in calming the tummy when eating a dish that has a lot of oil (but the flija itself didn't taste super oily). Flija is typically made in the summer time.