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The Village Voice article about Restaurant Old Bridge
A
Pair of Bosnian Cafés Compete on a Queens Corner
Something a
Serbian-American friend once told me stuck in my head.
"In Astoria, all the former Yugoslavians live side by
side. Whatever part they played in old conflicts is left
behind in the old country. They all speak the same language
and eat the same food, and no one asks in the butcher shop,
'Are you a Croat?' 'Are you a Serb?', or 'Are you a Bosnian
Muslim?'"
Indeed, eastern Astoria
has become a wonderland of Balkan food and culture since the
breakup of Yugoslavia in 1991 and the cessation of Bosnian
hostilities in 1995. The corner of 42nd Street and 30th Avenue
is a particularly rich hotbed of transplanted culture. Black
Bull Meat Market (42-10 30th Avenue) anchors the neighborhood,
and it's just the sort of butcher shop my friend was talking
about, displaying homemade sausages and smoked meats in the
refrigerated window case. Best of all is suho meso, a baseball
bat of soft beef jerky rimmed with yellow fat, used most
prominently to season a mellow stew of white navy beans.
The same corner also
hosts a pair of restaurants, and I hope I'm not betraying the
spirit of my friend's remarks by telling you they're owned by
Bosnians, for whom the memory of massacres in places like
Srebrenica must still be fresh, though not spoken of to
outsiders. Stari Most was once a regular neighborhood tavern,
an old-fashioned bar with a brass rail that runs along one
side of the room, and seating at red-leather banquettes and
couches on the periphery, all in pristine condition despite
their age. The name means "Old Bridge," referring to
an elegant 16th-century span erected by Ottoman ruler Suleiman
the Magnificent. Long a famous trysting spot for courting
couples, the bridge once spanned the Neretva River in Mostar,
Bosnia—I say "once" because it was destroyed in
1993 by the Croatian militia, after also having been shelled
by Serbs in 1991.
But the bridge lives on
in a gray 3D recreation that surreally arches over the
barroom—where no alcohol is served, though you can regale
yourself with a selection of fruit nectars ($2). The
rudimentary menu is limited to grilled meats, salads, and
bureks—the round, flaky pies of the Balkans. Foremost among
viands is pljeskavica ($9), an onion-laced hamburger that the
menu rather imprudently (and anachronistically) boasts as
being "as big and round as a phonograph record."
Really, it's more of a hubcap on a small imported car.
Nevertheless, the patty is smoky and ultra-flavorful,
especially when smeared with the trio of sides: a red-pepper
paste called ajvar (pronounced "eye-var"), a
homemade clabber of milk called kimek, and chopped white
onions. But the show is almost stolen by the bun. Called
lepinja, it's like a pocketless pita inflated with a bicycle
pump.
Full
story you can read here
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