February Newsletter: A Culinary Cruise Along the Danube with Irina Georgescu
In a Q & A, the author of the new cookbook DANUBE talks about the cuisines of Eastern Europe's riverlands and shares her recipe for Mǎmǎligǎ la Cuptor ~ baked polenta with sour cream, cheese, and eggs
Benvenuti! Welcome to Buona Domenica. This newsletter remains on an abbreviated schedule while I work on my latest cookbook. This means fewer posts—but just for a few more weeks. This week’s issue features a recipe for all subscribers.
A few reminders:
LET’S MAKE PASTA! I am teaching several online pasta-making workshops in collaboration with 177 Milk Street in February, March, and April:
February 27: ULTRA-REGIONAL HANDMADE PASTA: Spaghetti alla Chitarra with Abruzzese-Style Ragù (Price: $69.95; DISCOUNT: Use the code PASTAPARTY at checkout for a 15% discount)
March 13, March 27, April 10: INTENSIVE: ITALY’S REGIONAL STUFFED PASTAS with Domenica Marchetti (Price for all 3 classes: $249.95; DISCOUNT: Use the code PASTAPARTY at checkout for a 15% discount)
March 13: Ricotta Cheese Ravioli in Tomato Sauce
March 27: Agnolotti del Plin with Butter and Sage
April 10: Cappelletti in Brodo
Plus, all the skills & tool recommendations you need to confidently make countless other stuffed pastas at home.
ALSO: REGISTRATION IS OPEN FOR FOOD WRITERS IN PIEMONTE, FALL 2025: Join Kathy Gunst and me in October for our second Food Writers in Piemonte workshop. Please send me an email at domenica@domenicacooks.com for more information.
You can view the entire Buona Domenica archive here, and the full index of recipes here. If you are able to, please consider becoming a paid subscriber to support this newsletter, and click on the little heart at the top of this post. Grazie!
On to the newsletter…
Dear Friends,
Last week, I shared a sneak preview of
’s new cookbook, DANUBE: Recipes and Stories from Eastern Europe, with my paid community. This week, a treat for all: a Q & A with the author about her new book, and a recipe for a rich and comforting cornmeal porridge—just the thing to lead us into February.Irina, a UK-based Romanian author, writes the newsletter Notes from Irina’s Kitchen here on Substack. I first became familiar with her work through her second book, TAVA: Eastern European Baking and Desserts from Romania and Beyond, winner of a James Beard Award. That book delves into the baking traditions of the diverse cultures and communities that comprise Romania. (Below you’ll find a link to her recipe for apple cake from TAVA, available to paid subscribers.) Irina’s first book, Carpathia: Food from the Heart of Romania, is an introduction to the rich and varied flavors of her country. Grains and legumes figure prominently, along with homemade breads, stews and braises, and dishes lifted by the addition of sour cream and cheese, sauerkraut, olives, and other pickled and piquant ingredients.
As I wrote last Sunday, like Irina’s other books, Danube is much more than a cookbook. It’s a history book, a geography lesson, a tour of a place with a complex past, a beautifully photographed love letter. The book, which follows the path of the Danube river where it flows between Romania, Serbia, and Bulgaria, is filled with stories and recipes from the people of these diverse riverland communities.
BUONA DOMENICA: What inspired you to make the Danube the central element this book?
IRINA GEORGESCU: I believe a region’s destiny is defined by its geography. The River Danube traverses 10 countries across Central and Eastern Europe. However, not many people realise that it serves as a natural boundary separating Eastern Europe from the Balkans, particularly along its banks in Romania, Serbia and Bulgaria. I wanted to explore the influence of such a river on the lands it carves in its path in these three countries. I wanted to make their cuisine more visible in the UK and US, and celebrate the people who cook their dishes.
Throughout the book, it is evident that the cuisine serves as a bridge between history and the present, as well as between nations and ethnic groups. This bridge forms the culinary identity of the Danube, helping to keep its lands united and bring its people together.
BD: In the introduction, you talk about “national cuisine,” and archetypal dishes that people remember and the ones they don’t. You bring up the six decades of Communist rule, which “made us forget how we used to eat.” Is part of your motivation for writing your books the desire to recover or rediscover what was once lost?
IG: At first, I think that my motivation stemmed from frustration. I was disheartened to see the same soup offered in Romanian restaurants from the north to the south, lacking unique regional characteristics or local flair. Over 60 years of communism obliterated artisan skills and regional particularities. After the regime fell, we faced another crisis: food globalisation. We became fond of fish fingers, crisps, and pre-prepared meals, embracing kimchi instead of sauerkraut, hummus over our traditional butterbean spread, and creamy polenta in place of the traditional set polenta. We were losing those small details that make a cuisine national. So yes, from this point onwards, I started researching what was lost. Fortunately, countries like Romania are gradually rediscovering their true roots. Food historians and journalists work closely with chefs to create a modern traditional cuisine—what some might call neo-Romanian cuisine. I hope my research and books will be an inspiration for people at home as well. For the rest of the world, I hope that people will cook as many recipes as possible from Danube, since I deliberately chose and crafted them to be simple and intriguing. We have so much to offer, and my aim was to rediscover local flavours and bring them together in the spirit of Danubian cuisine.
BD: I had no idea that polenta/cornmeal was such a staple in the cuisine of Romania and other parts of Eastern Europe. You write, “If there is no cornmeal, there is no meal.” What is the backstory to polenta’s central role in Romanian cooking?
IG: Cornmeal is a staple ingredient everywhere in Romania and, to some degree, in Eastern Europe. I often say that we eat cornmeal more than the Italians. It’s true. Coming from the Americas, it was introduced to these lands by the Ottoman Empire, trading with the Venetian and Genoese merchants. At first, maize cultivation flourished because the grain was untaxed. After that, it was warfare that shaped the intensive cultivation of maize in the centuries that followed. These borderlands between three major Empires, Habsburg, Ottoman and Russian, constantly in a state of war, encouraged a maize market between landowners and armies. The fact that it could grow in the hills and mountains and give better, more reliable yields than wheat was a major advantage. Plus, it was cheaper and readily available. Cooking a cornmeal dish, mămăligă, to satisfy the soldiers’ hunger took less fuel and was quicker than making bread. It became the crop to fall on if wheat wasn’t enough for civilians and the rescue plan for Princes to feed their people.
This is how mămăligă entered the homes across the country and became a glorious national dish. We have so many ways to cook with it: breakfast with milk and jam, snacks such as cornmeal biscuits simmered with milk, layered, stuffed, fried, baked, as a filling in cabbage leaves, and even drunk from a mug.
BD: In the chapter on soups, you describe a clear vegetable-based soup that has a sour element added at the end of cooking. Vinegar, unripe fruit, fermented ingredients, sour cream. Talk about the prevalence of sour flavors in Romanian cuisine and what it contributes.
IG: You make a very good point about sour flavours in Romanian cuisine. We enjoy adding a tangy, sour note to a dish at the end of the cooking time or when we serve it. I blame this on the Roman Empire, they liked vinegar with everything. It is a way to lift the flavours, making the dish more refreshing and thirst-quenching during the hot summers we have along the Danube. Also, in the case of fish soups, the vinegar firms up the flesh, preventing it from going mushy. The acidity balances the richness of meat and brightens a vegetable broth, making the flavours dance together. It’s our comfort food, restorative and refreshing, that we eat for lunch and dinner, and sometimes even for breakfast.
This love for something tangy is also seen in the huge varieties of pickles and fermented vegetables we prepare during the months of abundance. We have so many that we even cook with them. We make stews with pickles: pickled gherkin stew, stuffed pickled peppers and many dishes with sauerkraut. Yes, we cook with sauerkraut, whether stuffing the leaves of fermented cabbage or sautéing sauerkraut and even baking it.
We love vinegar and pickles for their tanginess, as well as cheese and sour cream. When added to soups or stews, the contrast between sour cream and the sweetness of simmered vegetables is simply fantastic.
BD: I really relate to the way Romanians define ‘salad’ —“a whole category of dishes made with fresh or cooked ingredients, sliced, diced or mashed,” as you put it. In fact, salad can be so much more than a bowl of greens with dressing! Can you please tell us a little bit more about what makes a dish a salad in Romanian cuisine—and what are a couple of your favorites?
IG: Look, I’ll give you an example of how confusing this ‘salad’ situation might be: aubergine [eggplant] ‘salad’ is a spread in which the aubergines are chargrilled, peeled, finely chopped, and mashed together. It is usually served with grilled pepper ‘salad’ in which the grilled peppers are left whole and served with a vinaigrette. This is the world of salads in a nutshell.
Another example is the local version of the Olivier ‘salad’, know as ‘salata de boeuf’. Boiled vegetables and beef are diced and mixed together with diced pickles and bound with mayo.
Sometimes, the binding in a salad is not mayo, it is sour cream. I love lettuce or cucumber salad with sour cream dressing. Or sweet cabbage with sour cream, like a super simple coleslaw.
My favourite is something similar to the Olivier salad: Salată orientală, which is a potato salad with olives, red onions and boiled eggs. I love seasoning a dish with olives because of their briny flavours, which remind me of Martinis.
[See below for a link to the recipe, available to paid subscribers.]
BD: Final question. Interest in Eastern European cuisine is on the rise (for sure in the U.S. and undoubtedly elsewhere) and has been for the last number of years. To what do you attribute its growing popularity?
Tourism, cookbooks, and the recognition that Eastern Europe is no longer shrouded by an Iron Curtain. Social media raises awareness of Eastern Europe as a stunning travel destination by sharing holiday photos and promoting the reasons to visit through the efforts of each country's tourism boards.
On my culinary tours, I notice that many Americans have Eastern European ancestry. They often seek to reconnect with their family heritage—whether through travel to Eastern Europe, reading about the region, or, most importantly, preparing the dishes they've come to know through stories.
BD: Thank you, Irina, for sharing your Romania with us!
Below are links to two of Irina’s recipes, one for Salatǎ Orientalǎ, which I published in last week’s newsletter, and one for Apple Loaf Cake, from a 2023 issue of this newsletter (both accessible to paid subscribers); plus her recipe for Baked Cornmeal with Sour Cream, Cheese, and Eggs, for all subscribers.
Salatǎ Orientalǎ
This is a rich and appetizing salad of cooked potatoes and eggs mixed with fresh radishes, cucumbers and onions, and seasoned with cold-pressed sunflower oil and white wine vinegar. With its garnish of olives and chopped dill, it’s a salad to lift the spirits. It can be served as a starter, a side dish to roast fish or chicken, or it can stand alone as …
And here’s a link to Irina’s recipe for Apple Loaf Cake, from her book TAVA:
Apple and Anise Loaf Cake
There is nothing cozier than a slice of apple cake to go with your morning coffee or afternoon tea. This recipe comes from Irina Georgescu’s wonderful book Tava: Eastern European Baking and Desserts from Romania and Beyond. In the headnote to her recipe, Irina writes that “Many people have their own favorite recipe, they bake it plain or marbled with co…
RECIPE: Mǎmǎligǎ la Cuptor: Baked Cornmeal with Sour Cream, Cheese and Eggs
This is one of many ways that polenta is featured in Danube and Irina’s other books. From Irina’s headnote:
“This dish will bring comfort and a sunny mood to your morning. It is nicknamed ‘shut up and eat’ because it’s best eaten hot. It is often made with a whole cracked egg on top, but I prefer to use beaten eggs for the extra-smooth texture.”
I followed Irina’s lead and made this with beaten eggs for brunch for my daughter and me. We both shut up and ate. Happily.
The only change I made was to combine the cornmeal with cold water rather than heating the water first. I find it’s much easier to mix the two without creating lumps this way.
Serves 2 (or more)
INGREDIENTS
2 cups (500 ml) water
1 cup (150 g) fine cornmeal
2 teaspoons fine salt, plus an extra pinch for baking
3 tablespoons (45 g) salted butter, plus extra for coating a baking dish and for dotting
2 1/2 ounces (75 g) cașcaval or cheddar cheese, shredded, plus extra for baking (see Cook’s Note)
Generous 3/4 cup (200 g) sour cream
2 medium or large eggs, beaten
1 teaspoon chopped fresh thyme
INSTRUCTIONS
1. Preheat the oven to 350° F (180° C) with the convection setting on, or 375° F (190° C) static.
2. In a deep pan, whisk together the water, cornmeal, and salt until well combined. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat, whisking often, then reduce the heat to low, cover, and allow the cornmeal to absorb the liquid for 8 to 10 minutes. Whisk a couple of times throughout this process.
3. Stir in the butter and cheese, then pour the cornmeal into a buttered 9-inch (23-cm) baking dish. Allow it to cool a little, then make a large well in the middle. Add the sour cream, sprinkle with a pinch of salt, then add the beaten eggs, working them with a fork a little into the sour cream. Place a few dots of butter on top and another sprinkle of grated cheese.
4. Bake for 10 minutes, or until the eggs are just set and the cornmeal has a beautiful golden crust. To enhance the crust, slide the dish under the broil for a minute or two. Sprinkle the thyme on top and serve.
Cook’s Note: Cașcaval is a semi-firm, aged Romanian aged semi-hard cheese. It is made from unpasteurized cow and/or sheep milk and has a smooth texture. Substitute mild or medium-sharp cheddar if it is not available.
Click on the green button below for the printable version of the recipe, a function available to paid subscribers:
The next Buona Domenica newsletter for all subscribers will be published in March. Paid subscribers will also receive a bonus recipe between now and then.
Finally, to my American friends and to others who may be interested, please subscribe to historian
’s newsletter, Letters from an American for a clear-eyed take on what is happening in our country. Here is her latest issue.As always, thank you for reading, subscribing, and sharing.
Alla prossima,
Domenica
OOh how I love Irina's work and all her books and I'm on the edge of my seat for this one (it should be in the mail!). I was already a big polenta lover coming into my adulthood (my parents, southern farm kids, served all kinds of grain porridge, both sweet and savory, like grits and mush cereals growing up), but the way I have seen them prepared in Romanian household and through Irina's work is next level comforting. This recipe is a perfect example of Central and Eastern European cooks' genius use of simple ingredients to achieve something much more than the sum of its parts.
Hi, Domenica.
Any chance that cașcaval is similar to caciocavallo?
Best, Bob Marino