Dining

Unleash your inner Balkan at Prince

Image
A Serbian take on the Juicy Lucy. The bread is big enough to challenge you to a duel.
Photo: Beverly Poppe

Prince Restaurant can initially feel somewhat intimidating. It’s tiny and isolated, typically full of James Bond villain dopplegängers and has a cigarette machine in its restroom (seriously). But the staff is very inviting—including gregarious new owner Neb Krkeljas—and it serves good food you should press on to discover.

The Details

Prince Restaurant
6795 W. Flamingo Road, 220-8322.
Daily, 8 a.m.-2 a.m.

As you might expect from Eastern European fare, the menu is filled with meat. A highlight is the cevapi—miniature, smoky grilled sausages served on a housemade bun with a side of kajmak, an addictive blend of butter and cream cheese. Vegans aside, who doesn’t want sausage, cheese and butter right now?

Beware of the karadjordeva snicla. The menu description—“pork loin schnitzel, stuffed with mozzarella cheese, cream cheese and ham, dipped in eggs and breaded”—should serve as ample warning, but even that doesn’t truly describe this beast. It’s essentially a gargantuan, deep-fried meat-and-cheese log. Normally, I’d be into that; in this case, it was a little dry for my taste.

Better is the Prince Pljeskavica ($11), basically a Serbian Jucy Lucy. A ground beef patty is stuffed with sirene (a mild Eastern European feta) and pickles and served on grossly oversized housemade bread alongside the omnipresent kajmak. You’ll need to watch out for the scalding liquid cheese capable of erupting with each bite, but the reward is worth the risk.

Lest you think Serbs survive on meat alone, there are a couple of veggie dishes of note. The sopska salata ($5.50) is a typical Eastern European salad with tomato, cucumber and sirene amid a combination of olive oil and vinegar dressing. Also notable is the przene paprika sa bijelim lukom ($5), roasted red peppers marinated in tangy vinegar and topped with garlic. It’s a simple, clean dish. And don’t miss the ajvar. On the menu, it’s nonchalantly referred to as vegetable spread, but it’s actually a robust roasted red pepper concoction as good as any around.

Now go, get in there and unleash your inner Balkan.

Share

Previous Discussion:

Top of Story