A trek up a slope through narrow streets leads the writer to a plateful of piping hot cheesy štrukli

From the time I get into my cab in Zagreb, the driver just can’t stop talking about štrukli. It’s a traditional dish that’s popular in the northern parts of Croatia, I am told. “It’s on the list of the country’s intangible cultural heritage. Don’t forget to try it,” he reminds me, as I slide out of the cab with my monstrous luggage.

Most cafés and restaurants in the city serve štrukli, but there’s one place that’s held in high regard by many of the locals. It’s called La Struk, a tiny outlet that’s devoted to serving only this.

So that evening, armed with a local map in addition to Google maps and braving an unexpected downpour, I trudge my way up a slope and through a narrow but bustling lane, all for a serving of štrukli.

There are two varieties — sweet and savoury. And they are either cooked or gratinated. The waitress suggests ordering the latter.

It’s made fresh, so a waiting time of 15 minutes is usual. In that time, I push back shots of blueberry rakija (local fruit brandy) which only whets my appetite. And then, my pumpkin pesto štrukli arrives in a maroon dish, piping hot and still bubbling on the sides.

It looks a lot like lasagne. Ah, the delicious whiff of cheese. There are long rolls of pastry with cottage cheese and sour cream in a gooey white sauce with the fresh flavour of pesto.

Approximately six spoonfuls later, I am full. It’s a simple yet filling dish, and no wonder it has been a staple among farmers. Now I regret the unnecessary evening snack of börek that I’d had out of pure greed earlier.

And what’s börek? Ah, about that, you’ll just have to wait.