On a bright and sunny July morning in Vilnius, I walk into a no-frills valgykla, a Soviet-style canteen for my first taste of Lithuanian cuisine. Called Sultiniai, it is run by local women serving simple, home-style food at modest prices. One of them slides a tray across the counter, loading it with meat-stuffed potato dumplings, a baked cabbage-filled bun and a bowl of warm chicken broth. It’s simple and deeply satisfying.
Over the next five days, Lithuanian food begins to unravel to me as nothing fancy, but as a living, everyday tradition best experienced in canteens. “Lithuanian home cooking is simple and seasonal,” says Vilma Daubarienė, head of tourism at Go Vilnius, a city-based tourism agency. “Many of these dishes can be found in traditional eateries such as the Sultiniai,” she says, adding that the word ‘sultiniai’ actually means broth.
A summer of pink soups
Much like the snug, warm environs of its canteens, Lithuanian cuisine is comforting at its core, rooted in age-old agricultural and foraging traditions. Locals enjoy a variety of homemade soups prepared with beetroot, carrots, potatoes and cabbage, or sometimes just a light broth. Meat-based meals are also common, with chicken, pork or beef typically served with potatoes and fresh or pickled salads.
One of the most iconic dishes, dating back almost 300 years, is šaltibarščiai—a bright pink cold soup made with beets and kefir, topped with cucumbers, dill, green onions, and a hard-boiled egg, and served with hot boiled potatoes. Light, mildly piquant and incredibly refreshing, it has become a symbol of Lithuanian summers.
The best way to experience its cultural pull is at the Vilnius Pink Soup Fest—an annual three-day celebration in May, when the city quite literally turns pink. Themed parades and walks take over streets lined with fuchsia carpets, and bright pink confetti fills the air. Pink flags, ribbons and streamers drape buildings and monuments, while a giant Barbie-pink slide adds to the fun.
On a regular afternoon, far from the festivities, a refreshing bowl of šaltibarščiai exudes a more intimate charm. I pair it with crispy kepta duona, a popular snack made from deep-fried dark rye bread cut into strips and rubbed with garlic.
Of dumplings and airships
Rye thrives in the cold, harsh climate of the Baltics. Therefore, dark rye bread, locally known as ruginė duona, has been a staple here for centuries. “Black rye bread always reminds me of home,” says Laura Šalnaitė, my tour guide in Vilnius. “The fridge can be empty, but there always has to be a loaf of rye bread somewhere in there.”
Cepelinai, widely considered Lithuania's national dish, is another staple I keep going back to. These hearty potato dumplings, typically filled with meat, cheese or mushrooms, have an interesting story. “They were originally known as didžkukuliai,” explains Šalnaitė. “But in the 20th century, people began calling these large, oval dumplings cepelinai because they resembled the balloon-like Zeppelin airships created by Ferdinand von Zeppelin.”
I find my favourite assortment of cepelinai at a restaurant in Vilnius called Etno Dvaras, which offers over 10 different varieties. Served with rich butter-onion sauces, a traditional sour cream spread called kastinys and creamy mushroom gravies, the dumplings are truly irresistible.
A cake that resembles a Christmas tree
I soon move on to dessert that is as much a visual spectacle as a tradition—the šakotis. While its origins remain highly debated, “the cake was likely inspired by baumkuchen, the German tree cake that arrived in Lithuania with aristocrats during the 19th century,” says Šalnaitė. Also known as the Lithuanian tree cake, šakotis is made with flour, eggs, butter and sugar, and baked on a rotating spit, which gives it a distinctive, branch-like appearance. It is often reserved for celebrations, especially weddings.
Next morning, I take a bus to Trakai, a picturesque lakeside town just 30 minutes from Vilnius, that's home to the Karaite community—a Turkic-speaking ethnic group that migrated from eastern Europe and settled here in the 14th century. Today, Trakai is considered the heart of Karaite cuisine in Lithuania. At a restaurant called Senoji kibininė, I try kibinai—crescent-shaped pastries filled with meat and vegetables. Flaky and savoury, these pies are commonly baked at home and eaten throughout the day, often paired with hot soup or tea. Resembling chebureki—deep-fried, stuffed turnovers popular in Ukraine, it reflects centuries of migration and shared culinary traditions across Lithuania and eastern Europe.
The potato lovers club
Similar influences run deep through Lithuanian cuisine, especially in its love for potatoes. Bulviniai blynai, traditional potato pancakes and kugelis, a type of potato pudding, are quite popular. Dishes like vėdarai, or pork intestines stuffed with a mixture of potatoes, onions and spices tend to have a more selective fan base.
No Lithuanian meal feels complete without a glass of gira, a mildly fizzy drink made by fermenting rye bread and water. It has a sweet and tangy taste and adds to the unique flavours of the cuisine. “I often joke that gira is somewhere between Coca Cola and beer. It helps foreigners understand it better,” says Daubarienė.
As I leave Lithuania, driving from Vilnius towards Riga, I stop for one last meal. I order cepelinai and kepta duona, and wash it down with a glass of gira. From my bag, I pull out the last few pieces of šakotis I had saved from the night before. It’s a meal that doesn't crave attention, but stays long after the journey ends.
Soumya Gayatri is a food and travel journalist based in Riyadh.