ZORAN BRAJCIC slams his razor-sharp cleaver into a fresh lobster, drags on a high-tar cigarette and growls a line you’re unlikely to hear from Nigella Lawson: “It is the tough destiny of the Croatian lobster.” Brajcic will never be a doe-eyed domestic goddess, but he offers equally distinctive cookery lessons on the Adriatic island of Vis.


Drawing on his experience at his celebrated seafood restaurant, Pojoda, the brooding Balkan chef provides no-nonsense tuition for men, explaining the secrets of startlingly tasty local fish dishes.

He began the courses three years ago after a series of SOS calls from yachts anchored off surrounding islands. Many of the callers had eaten at Pojoda, which features in the Adriatic gourmet guide, Gustoza Dita, and would call for cooking tips. “I got fed up giving recipes on the phone,” he says. “I told them — when you’re next sailing here, I’ll show you what to do.

“I run the courses for men only because they skipper the boats. Preparing meals in cramped conditions is always more difficult, but these are easy menus.”

For the full Pojoda effect, I arrived, like almost every other pupil, on a chartered yacht with a windburnt face. After mooring in the serene harbour beneath a curl of scrub-covered peaks, I walked into the warren of Venetian alleys encircling the restaurant’s open-air courtyard.

My 57-year-old tutor was barely visible through a wall of herb-scented smoke above the grill. He offered me a sprig of rosemary drenched in olive oil “to baste the grouper fish crisping on the charcoal”, along with immediate evidence that this would be no delicate nurturing of metrosexual foodie skills.

“Hit it hard. Not like that. Hard. Like a man.” And Brajcic, a former Zagreb businessman and “party boy”, is definitely a man’s man. Not only does he possess the fuller male figure — “a chef must be fat or no one believes he can cook” — but he’s rarely seen without a glowing cigarette: an accessory that hasn’t featured recently on Masterchef.

After lessons on buying fish — “its eyes must be convex, the flesh slightly stiff” — the class started with tuna in caper sauce. Brajcic mixed about a pound of flaky fish with super-sized pinches of garlic, parsley, paprika and the honey-scented herb koromac. After pouring on a small waterfall of olive oil and wine, he finished by stirring in a handful of capers.

Inquiries about precise quantities of ingredients produced the ubiquitous response. “It is a feeling. What can I say? There are no kitchen secrets, only feelings.” It was magnificently earthy stuff. Brajcic chopped, smoked and taught without breaking stride, knocking up a fish and rice soup — “not too spicy, you must taste the fish” — before turning to brodetto, a Balkan bouillabaisse.

It’s simple, “perfect for men,” he said. “And it’s also delicious.” The mighty stew, sometimes containing fish, other times beans and pasta, is a speciality of Vis Town. Onions were diced, fried, mixed with tomatoes, herbs, wine vinegar and boiling water. In went the two lobsters spliced in half, followed ten minutes later by monkfish steaks. We might also have thrown in a pile of crayfish and half a bottle of plonk, but, giddy from the aroma and several glasses of bugava wine, I was slipping into a haze worthy of Keith Floyd.

Half an hour later and the rich red stew emitted a heart-stopping smell. “Your nose is so important,” waxed Brajcic. “It can take two years to train someone’s nose.”

The Irish businessman on our course clearly didn’t trust his nostrils, plunging his finger into the pot and licking it. I feared the chef might reach for a cleaver, but he merely gave a sharp intake of breath and served the show-stopping supper.

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Class over, we tried several other dishes. Orbiko, polpete and riba u slanutku sounded like Eurovision Song Contest entries, but were truly memorable. I retired to my yacht for a night’s indigestion on a gentle Adriatic swell: the tough destiny of the Croatian glutton.

Need to know

Cookery courses at Pojoda from October to February cost from about £110 for two days, including tuition, meals and some wine. Details: 00 385 21 711 575.

Getting there: Ian Belcher travelled with Sail Croatia (020-7751 9988, www.sailcroatia.net), which offers a fully skippered week on a six-person Beneteau 411 yacht out of Split from £2,247. The cost, per boat, includes transfers, route planning and basic provisions, but not flights. Sail Croatia can arrange flights to Split on Croatian Airlines from £195 return and a three-day course at Pojoda for £280.

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