Photograph: Jeff Gurwin

Kafana, a candlelit bistro on Avenue C’s burgeoning bar and restaurant row, is possibly New York’s first hipster Serbian restaurant—artfully cluttered with framed ancient postcards and bric-a-brac antiques, and staffed by good-looking young Serbs. Instead of Slavic intellectuals choking on filterless cigarettes, you’ll find the usual East Village crowd feasting on dishes they couldn’t even attempt to pronounce. Much of the hearty, shareable traditional Serbian fare will horrify vegetarians, but thrill carnivores. A heaping bowl of bite-size smelts—girice saurnebes sosom for the linguistically adventuresome—are barely breaded, beautifully fried and as compulsively snackable as popcorn. The mixed grill for two (a great-deal at $29.95)—featuring smoky peasant sausage (seljacka kobasica), herby Serb meatballs (cevapi), an enormous succulent pork chop (krmendadla) and walnut-stuffed prunes wrapped in bacon—offers a fine introduction to this meaty cuisine. The limited selection of homey desserts includes tart sour-cherry pie, and fluffy crêpes rolled around chunky apricot jam. The restaurant, cash only for now, features a fine selection of well-priced wines—skip the overextracted bottles from Montenegro—and a cozy setting that invites lingering over the last few drops.