In a Serbian home, the first thing that appears on the table is rarely food. It's a small glass, usually about the size of an eggcup, and it arrives before the coffee, before the sweets, sometimes before you've finished taking off your coat. Saying no politely is fine, though a generous host may well offer again. The glass holds šljivovica, the plum brandy that English speakers call slivovitz, and in 2022 UNESCO put the whole business of making and sharing it on its list of humanity's intangible heritage. That's a lot of attention for a drink served in a thimble-sized glass, and by the end of this post you'll know how to take your own first sip like a guest who's done their homework.
What Šljivovica Actually Is
Start with the vocabulary, because it trips up almost every visitor. Rakija (rakia in English) is the umbrella word for fruit brandy across the Balkans. It can be made from grapes, apricots, pears, quinces, cherries or just about anything that ferments. Šljivovica is rakija made from plums ( šljiva), and in Serbia it's the one people mean when they say rakija without adding a fruit. The English "slivovitz" is simply the same word spelled the way English ears hear it, and it's built from the old Slavic root for plum plus a suffix, much as Czech has slivovice and Polish śliwowica.
Strength varies. Bottled brandy is usually around 40 percent alcohol by volume, while home-made versions can run much higher. That's the point to keep in mind: this is a spirit to sip in small amounts, not a shot to throw back, and the people who make it best are usually the ones who drink it slowest.
There's also a split in the style. A first distillation gives a mild, softer brandy called meka or sirova rakija. A second pass gives the stronger, cleaner prepečenica, which literally means "re-distilled." Some of it then rests in oak, which turns the clear spirit amber. Serbian fruit researchers describe the plum variety as the biggest factor in taste: the best brandy is said to come from Požegača, a late-summer blue plum, with Crvena ranka a good second, while newer orchard varieties like Čačanska rodna give more fruit per tree.
A Short History, Without the Myths
Who invented rakija is a fight nobody will win. Bulgaria points to a 14th-century pottery inscription and an older distillation fragment. Serbian sources point to a 14th-century written mention of rakija-making. The word itself is tied to the Ottoman era, when raki was a general term for distilled drinks, which is why Greek, Turkish and Balkan spirits all share a name without being the same thing. The honest summary is that distillation reached the region in the Middle Ages, spread through monasteries, markets and village yards, and that nobody can pin the first glass on one nation. If someone tells you plainly that "the Turks brought it" or "the monks invented it," they're simplifying.
What's less disputed is how it became everyday. The method didn't need a factory: a copper pot still, usually called a kazan, a fire, and fruit from your own trees. That's the model UNESCO describes today, where plums are grown on family farms, harvested in autumn, fermented for roughly 20 to 30 days, then distilled in handmade copper vessels. Bottled commercial brands came later, built on top of that backyard habit rather than replacing it.
Serbia's Plum Country
Serbia harvested about 489,000 tonnes of plums in 2022, third in the world after China and Romania in the FAO figures. That's a small slice of a world crop of about 12.4 million tonnes, more than half of it grown in China, but few countries tie the fruit so closely to national identity. The orchards cover roughly 74,000 hectares, and the harvest swings a lot from year to year.
The heartland is hill country in central and western Serbia. Serbian sources list distilling areas around Arilje, Bajina Bašta, Valjevo, Kosjerić, Požega, Užice, Čajetina, Čačak, Kraljevo, Kragujevac, Osečina, Rekovac, Aranđelovac and Blace, plus Raška and Prijepolje to the south. The list also includes Leposavić, in Kosovo and Metohija, which is part of Serbia. Many of these valleys are the same ones travelers cross heading to Zlatibor, and the plum shapes the landscape: white blossom in spring, then rows of heavy blue fruit by late summer.
Serbia has a protected regional name for the brandy. In 2019 the Ministry of Agriculture recognized Šumadijska šljivovica, a geographical indication for plum brandy from the Šumadija region, held by an association of 19 producers, as reported by RTK. It is a regional label, not a national one, so a good bottle from outside Šumadija won't carry it. Whether the wider name "Srpska šljivovica" has protection of its own is reported inconsistently, and after the UNESCO listing a brandy expert was still calling for the production process and geographic origin to be protected. The word "slivovitz" itself isn't owned by Serbia, which is why you'll see Czech, Polish and other bottles under the name.
UNESCO and the Slava
In 2022, at its meeting in Rabat, UNESCO inscribed "Social practices and knowledge related to the preparation and use of the traditional plum spirit - šljivovica" on the Representative List of the Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity, on Serbia's nomination. Note what's protected: not a product, but knowledge. How to grow the fruit, run the still, age the brandy, build the copper vessel, and use the result in life's rituals. The entry mentions toasts for health, use in traditional medicine (herbs or fruit steeped in it for colds and pains) and mulled brandy in winter, and it stresses that women pass on much of the ritual and kitchen knowledge.
The place where all this comes together is the slava, the yearly celebration of a family's patron saint, which UNESCO listed separately in 2014. The house is cleaned, the table is laden, neighbors and relatives drop in over one to three days, and a glass of šljivovica sits somewhere in the middle of it. The same brandy turns up at weddings, at christenings and at funerals, which is exactly why UNESCO's text covers all of them.
A word of balance. This is a strong spirit, and the cultural weight of a tradition is not a reason to drink more of it. "It cures everything" is a myth: the folk remedies on the UNESCO list are traditions, not medical advice. The toast, živeli (roughly "to life"), is about wishing someone health, and the glass is meant to be small.
How It's Made and How to Drink It
The home process runs on the calendar. Plums are picked when fully ripe, crushed (leaving the stones intact so the mash doesn't turn bitter) and left to ferment in barrels. Serbian fruit-growing guides say 100 kilograms of good Požegača gives around 13 liters of 50 percent brandy, which explains why a family's yearly supply is counted in a few barrels and not a truckload. The mash is distilled in a copper kazan, the mild first run is collected, and a second distillation gives prepečenica. Ageing in an oak barrel for at least a year, as UNESCO describes it, rounds off the harsh edges.
Serving is simpler than people expect. Brandy goes into a tiny glass called a čokanjčić, at room temperature, with no ice and no mixer. You sip. It typically comes with a plate of something salty or fatty: smoked or dry-cured meat, ham, white cheese, kajmak (the thick cream that tops many Serbian breakfasts). In winter you'll also meet kuvana rakija, hot rakija warmed with sugar and sometimes spices. In some households a small morning glass is an old custom, but nobody needs to copy it on holiday. On a menu, the word to look for is domaća (homemade), as in domaća šljivovica, and a single small glass is plenty before you decide on a second.
If you're driving, hiking, or heading to the airport, the polite move is to say you're driving. Hosts generally understand, and it's far better than a nod and a glass you don't plan to finish.
Where to Taste It, and a Word on the Neighbors
The old still pictured above stands at the Staro selo open-air museum in Sirogojno, on Zlatibor, a good place to see how the kazan works before you taste anything. The best šljivovica often isn't for sale. It's made by families for families, so the most real tasting is usually at someone's table, in a village guesthouse (the Zlatibor area has plenty) or at a stall at a farm market. For a shop bottle, look for one that names the producer and the plum variety, and ask whether it's a first or second distillation. In the capital, the Belgrade Urban Distillery advertises tastings and a rakia tour, though it's worth checking its site for current times.
Festivals are where plums become a public event. The Dani šljive (Plum Days) in Blace, in southern Serbia, has run since 2002, normally on the second-to-last weekend of August, for three days. Osečina, in western Serbia, holds a large plum fair in late August as well, and the Čačak Institute for Fruit Growing holds the Smotra najboljih srpskih šljivovica, a sensory contest of the year's brandies, where in June 2025 a commission scored 84 samples and named a producer from Mionica the best of 2024. The competition isn't a tasting for the public, but its results are a reliable shopping guide. Dates change every year, so check the organizers before planning a trip around them.
Serbia's neighbors make plum brandy too, and they tend to claim it just as firmly. Bosnia and Herzegovina and Croatia have their own šljivovica and rakija traditions, Czechia, Slovakia, Hungary (as pálinka) and Poland have their relatives under other names, and the arguments about who owns the word never fully go away. Romania, the one country that grows more plums than Serbia outside China, distils its own plum brandy, țuică and counts it as a national drink. For a taste of the Bosnian side, our 5 days in Sarajevo guide is the place to start.
Next Steps
If the brandy has made you curious about the country, the Serbia country page is the map. Belgrade is the easy starting point ( 5 days in Belgrade), and the plum hills lie west and south, around Zlatibor, Vrnjačka Banja and Kopaonik. For the full picture of Kosovo and Metohija, see 5 days in Kosovo and Metohija. Winter visitors can read about ski resorts in Serbia, and if you'd like to test your own geography, try Pinpoint. Drink small, drink slowly, and let the host explain the story.
