You’ve chosen to bring molecular gastronomy to Belgrade — a bold move in a city where fine dining itself is still evolving. What inspired you to take this risk and introduce such an avant-garde culinary concept to this market?
From the moment I realized that gastronomy was my true calling, I knew I wanted to explore the modern, molecular, and experimental side of it. Everything I’ve done in life has been a step toward gaining the knowledge that allows me creative freedom — the freedom to express, to build, to explore. That’s why Delirium could never have been anything else.
Otherwise, I would have been dishonest with myself. It was a risk — even madness, perhaps — to start such a project in a small, untested market, but I stayed true to my vision. I’m proud that Delirium has enriched Belgrade’s fine dining scene in such a short time, bringing new energy and competition to this field. Belgrade is big enough — and deserving enough — for unique, avant-garde concepts like Delirium.
2. For many, molecular cuisine is still a mysterious world where science meets flavor. How would you describe it to someone experiencing it for the first time — what does molecular gastronomy truly mean to you?
For me, molecular cuisine is more than a definition — it’s a way of thinking. Some techniques require a scientific understanding of ingredients — their pH, proteins, fibers, fats — in order to transform their structure, flavor, and form. But molecular gastronomy can also be used as a finishing touch for dishes rooted in traditional cooking.
When people hear “molecular cuisine,” they immediately imagine laboratories, pipettes, test tubes — and that’s why it often sounds intimidating. My goal with Delirium is to change that perception. Yes, I use pipettes and have a small lab, but 70% of what we do is still traditional cooking. Molecular techniques simply give us the freedom to separate flavors by texture or intensity — to build a dish that awakens every receptor, creating a deeper sensory experience.
3. From textures that dissolve on the tongue to aromas that unfold mid-bite, every dish at Delirium Silence feels like a carefully choreographed performance. How do you balance the technical precision of science with the emotion of artistry?
My philosophy is that an idea is half of the work — though not everyone agrees with me on that. When you have a clear concept for your menu, each dish becomes an episode in a single season — different in mood and emotion, but all part of a bigger story.
Creating a menu is deeply emotional and often exhausting; it takes you through different phases of creation. Modern techniques, presentation, and storytelling are simply tools that help us communicate our philosophy — to make the guest pause, think, and feel.
4. As a fine dining chef, what are the core values that guide your work — and how do you translate them onto the plate?
What drives me most as a chef is competition with myself. A fine dining concept like Delirium demands constant reinvention and creativity. We change our menu four times a year, which means I’ve deliberately eliminated the possibility of comfort zones.
Stagnation and repetition are the greatest enemies of innovation, yet too much change and too fast a pace can easily lead to burnout. The key is balance — if such a thing even exists in this profession.
5. Molecular cuisine requires time, precision, and deep curiosity. How do you keep your creative energy alive, and where do you find inspiration for your menus — like your latest winter edition, “Madness”?
The kitchen consumes a lot of time — especially when you work in fine dining. My inspiration comes from nature and the people around me. The essence of Delirium is rooted in local, seasonal ingredients — I let nature and its changes guide my creative rhythm.
The “Madness” menu was born from months of experimenting with fermentations, a process that began back in May. Its philosophy was simple: build in segments. We worked with lacto-fermentation, kombuchas, syrups, powders, essences — and when the time came, we started connecting the pieces.
It was almost like spilling a spectrum of colors across a canvas, and then, at the end, using a brush to reveal the contours. That’s how Delirium Madness took its shape.
6. In your view, what does the future of gastronomy look like? Do you believe science will continue to redefine the way we experience food, or will emotion and storytelling always remain at its core?
It depends on which part of gastronomy we’re looking at. I’m certain that fast food and canteen-style restaurants will eventually integrate AI and robotics — primarily for financial reasons. But as for high gastronomy, the kind of cooking driven by emotion and love — I believe we’re safe from that kind of transformation.
At the end of the day, I have nothing against science; without it, I probably wouldn’t be doing what I do. But science only makes sense when it stays in human hands. I also believe the future will bring chefs closer to locality and sustainability — if nature allows it.
Science will always play a role in shaping the future of gastronomy. But emotion and storytelling — they’ll forever remain its heart.
