Two generations of men sat around a table on the porch. The front door of the store was open and they went in and out getting what was needed. Traditional music played on the stereo and plastic plates covered the tables - sliced tomato, whole hot peppers, grilled slabs of sheep cheese, scattered amongst the beer and rakija. The main event was about to begin. There was a gas grill sitting amongst piles of empty bottles, but attentions were turned to the other, larger one. "This is the best grill in.... in the world!" proclaimed Lambed, the grillmaster. He'd welcomed us and taken our drink order when the others had looked a little skeptical. Soon enough, we were embraced with full Macedonian hospitality. "We'd like to invite you to join us for some meat." It's not polite to turn down an invitation.