The Plum Dinner at Baba’s Place

Some evenings make sense from the moment everyone sits down.

We gathered a small group of journalists, editors and cultural storytellers at Baba’s Place in Sydney to introduce Plum Rakija. It wasn’t designed as a traditional product launch. It was an evening built around one long table, food passed from person to person and conversations allowed to find their own rhythm.

There were no staged speeches or rigid schedules. No need to explain the bottle from the front of the room. Instead, Plum was introduced in the setting where rakija has always felt most at home: surrounded by food, stories and people.

Seasonal dishes arrived across the table. Glasses were poured. Guests moved between conversations, returning to the bottle throughout the night. The evening was intentionally simple. Because rakija does not need to be separated from the occasion to be understood.

It belongs inside it.

Plum, Served as It Should BePlum holds a particular place in Balkan rakija culture. Deeply traditional, aromatic and generous, it carries the familiarity of something many people have known their entire lives.

For others at the table, it was a first introduction.

Our Plum Rakija was made from ripe Australian plums selected for their deep colour, sweetness and fragrance. Fermented and double-distilled, it is expressive and fruit-led, with soft spice and a smooth, silky finish. The dinner was never about reciting those notes. It was about letting people experience them naturally, between plates and conversations.

There is something different about gathering people around one table. It removes the distance. Food moves more freely. Conversations overlap. Someone hears a story from the other end and leans closer. By the middle of the evening, introductions had dissolved.

People were passing plates, topping up glasses and sharing stories about family, food and the traditions they had grown up with. That was the real introduction to Plum. Not only what it tasted like, but where it belonged.

A new bottle, introduced through an old ritual: sit down, pour generously and make room for one more.