Romanian and Serbian Grilled Pickled Peppers

I once taught a student who did a Peace Corps stint in Romania. Come autumn, she would awaken to a smell reminiscent of our collective college days—the sweet, smoky reek of dried leafy matter burning on an open fire. No, it wasn’t a giant pot party, although it sure smelled that way. It was the scent of peppers being grilled over the fire prior to pickling, an aroma that permeates the air each fall from the Danube to the Black Sea. In this the Balkans and Slavs have it hands down over the I