Boza
In Bulgaria boza is a breakfast habit: a plastic bottle of it from the corner pastry shop and a slice of hot, flaky banitsa, bought on the way to work or school, especially from autumn through to spring. Towns such as Radomir, Plovdiv and Sofia argue over whose is best. It is the colour of milky coffee, thick enough to coat the glass, sweet up front with a sour, bready finish and a faint prickle. Like every fermented grain drink it makes a trace of alcohol, well under 1% when drunk young. The base is millet flour, toasted for flavour, cooked into a thin porridge, then fermented for about a day before being strained and sweetened. The common mistake is adding the yeast while the porridge is still hot, which kills it and leaves you with sweet gruel; wait until it feels only just warm on your wrist. It is ready when the surface is covered in small bubbles, it smells like fresh bread with a sour edge and tastes pleasantly tangy. Chef's tip: keep back a glass of each batch in the fridge and use it instead of yeast next time; boza made from an old starter is rounder and more sour.







