Shashlik from the Baltic States is limited to the pure taste of pork – the quality of which is the be-all and end-all.
When the charcoal is no longer recognizable as such and when the scorching heat of the embers radiates all around, the right time has come. My uncle Regimantas from Lithuania puts some metal skewers with thick chunks of meat on a discarded laundry drum that has been converted into a grill.
Immediately it hisses and steams, the marinade drips in thick tears into the hot depths and the fat melts in a matter of seconds. His shish kebab has nothing to do with the colorful skewer made of peppers, onions with a few pieces of meat that we are familiar with.