To many of my ethnic Croatian readers this posting is totally unnecessary.  Sataraš to a Croatian is like tomato sauce to Italians or salsa to Mexicans; it’s a staple that arrives to the table without even a glance at a recipe or reaching for a measuring cup.  Even for me, a perfectionist to the core, a lover of recipes and proponent of protecting the integrity of dishes created by others, lets loose and relaxes when it comes to making sataraš.  Ultimately, it’s really difficult to screw this up and pretty much anything goes – well sort of.

So before I continue I want to give a shout out to all of my non-Croatian readers who have perhaps tried one of the recipes from the motherland, contemplated making it or simply appreciated it for what it is, delicious, simple and heart warming food.  If you’ve ever been to a Croatian wedding and had schnitzle and sataraš, or maybe you’ve been invited to a Croatian wedding in the past and remember yourself dreading having to sit at a table with a bunch of people speaking a foreign language or listening to polka music all night long. But somewhere, deep inside of you, you look forward to it because you can’t wait to sink your teeth in to a fat schnitzle slathered with red sauce.  And then, maybe after a good meal, some shots of šljivo (plum brandy) and a bottle or two of wine, the polka starts to sound pretty good and you’re learning Croatian swear words from the groom’s father while drinking more šljivo with him at the bar. Then the next thing you know, you find yourself on the dance floor, hand in hand with a middle-aged Croatian woman on your right and a cute girl on your left laughing and shaking her head at you while she tries to teach you the basket weave shouting, “Left step, right over, left step, right back,” as you dance your first Croatian line dance to the wail of the accordian.

As I said earlier, sataraš is a main stay in the Croatian kitchen, like salsa is to the Latin culture, in fact it very much resembles salsa.  When my husband brought schnitzle and  sataraš leftovers to work one day he came home telling me that next time I have to make more for the guys at work who were asking if he had anymore “chicken and salsa.”  At it’s core, it contains all of the same ingredients as salsa, but while salsa is made up of uncooked vegetables, sataraš is slowly stewed until the vegetables are tender, flavours have melded and juices concentrated.  And unlike its Latin counterpart that is served cold or a room temperature, sataraš is served hot.  While my family has always had sataraš with breaded chicken, veal or pork cutlets – aka schnitzle – I know that it is also enjoyed as a vegetable stew with hearty piece of bread or as a side dish with roast pork and potatoes.

With as many ways as there are to consume sataraš there are just as many ways to prepare it.  It’s often made at the end of summer when there are an abundance of tomatoes, peppers and onions in the garden and as such, it is a great way to use up a surplus of these veg.  In theory, you can really add any kind of vegetable (I’ve seen it made with the addition of carrots and celery, which I”m not a huge fan of)  and it can be made in the winter with canned tomatoes, but in my opinion, nothing beats a big pot of sataraš with fresh summer vegetables.  So instead of making it with canned tomatoes and imported peppers, make a big batch now and can it for the winter.  Of course you don’t have to eat it with schnitzle either; it also serves as a fantastic base for other dishes.  This batch of sataraš provided a ton of leftovers which I transformed into a base for my chicken enchillada filling – ironic isn’t it!

Sataraš

I really debated about putting measurements into the ingredient list for this recipe because I don’t want you to get bogged down with specific quantities while making this dish, because you frankly don’t need to concern yourself with that.  So instead I am going to provide you with a ratio, a ratio of how many vegetables are required in relation to the others.  The largest quantity of the three vegetables required to make this dish is peppers, the second is tomatoes, then finally onions, all in a 3 to 2 to 1 ratio.  For example, if you have 3 peppers, you should have 2 tomatoes and 1 onion, or 6 peppers, 4 tomatoes and 2 onions and so on.  It’s really that simple.  But if you don’t have enough peppers for this ratio or maybe you have more tomatoes than needed but you would like to get them off your counter, then go ahead and throw it in the pot.  There really is no way to screw this up – just don’t put celery in it, please. 

Quantity varies

3 tablespoons vegetable oil

1 part onion, chopped

2 to 3 cloves or garlic, minced

3 parts medium to large, peppers seeded and chopped coarsely (bell, shepherds, banana, hungarian, anything goes)

1 hot pepper or chile, minced (optional)

2 parts medium to large tomatoes, peeled, seeded and chopped (plum, beefsteak, earl girls, you guessed it – anything goes!)

Vegeta to taste

Salt and pepper to taste

In a large pot (a wide and shallow pot is ideal as it allows the moisture to evaporate more quickly than a deep pot) over medium heat, pour in oil and sweat onions for 5 minutes until translucent.  Add garlic and cook until fragrant, about 1 minute.  Place the peppers in the pan and cook until they are almost tender about 10 to 15 minutes, depending on how many peppers you are cooking.

Meanwhile,  prep your tomatoes by scoring them with an “x” and placing them in a pot, large enough to hold them all.  Cover with a lid and steam them over medium-low heat for 5 to 7 minutes.  When you notice the skin beginning to pull away from the flesh, remove from heat and allow to cool.  When cool enough to handle, peel and core the tomatoes.  Slice them in quarters and seed them by squeezing each quarter over a bowl to catch the extra liquid and seeds (you can strain this liquid from the seeds and reserve the juice incase your sataraš  becomes to thick during the cooking process).  While it may seem like an unnecessary step, seeding the tomatoes are in fact very important, as too many seeds will make the sataraš bitter.  Chop the quarters into chunks and add to the peppers and onions.  Bring to a simmer and cook uncovered until most of the liquid has evaporated and you are left with chunky stew, that resembles, well – salsa!

Season with Vegeta, salt and pepper and serve hot over schnitzle or however you choose.

I have an included an in-depth step-by-step guide to home canning from Bernardin in case this recipe inspires you to try a hand at preserving your own food.  It’s a totally worth the time and effort!