A concrete building stands near the center of Belgrade in a neat row of other Soviet-era towers. Only this one is covered, like ivy on brick, with an eight-story poster of Novak Djokovic, the 24-time Grand Slam champion and first son of Serbia. Wearing a shirt emblazoned with the Serbian flag, he looks intensely focused on the clay courts of the 2024 Paris Olympics, where he finally won the gold medal at the age of 37. Below him reads: najbolji sportista na svetu svih veremena, the world's best athlete of all time.
Djokovic's face is a dependable sight in Serbia. On the ground floor of this building is Restaurant Novak 1. Per the website: "As Nole serves for victory, we serve you food with the taste of success." When you walk in, you are greeted by a life-size terracotta statue of Novak, a dizzying array of his photographs and trophies, and his mom, Dijana, who works there.
This might lead you to believe that Djokovic is also a restaurateur. But then, you read the menu. Baked pasta with turkey; beef kebabs with clotted cream; bacon wrapped chicken filet stuffed with gouda. Questions arise. Would Novak eat any of this? In his self-help book for "physical and mental excellence" Serve to Win, Novak details his monastic vegan diet, none of which is on offer at the Belgrade eatery. Highlights of his day include celery juice "on an empty stomach," a lunch of gluten-free pasta primavera with optional vegan cheese and for dinner, salad with avocado and homemade dressing.
Questions arise. Would Novak eat any of this?


These meals are not typical of Serbian cooking. Nor is it food from any national origin, really. Novak's diet is engineered by a team of doctors to maximize performance. It's like this with other aspects of his lifestyle too: Djokovic, like most tennis players on tour, doesn't live in his country of origin but rather the glitzy environs of Miami, Monte Carlo and Málaga, Spain. He is both of this world and also above it.
So how do you commemorate an athlete who is both of Serbia and yet, who's also transcended it? Novak's unparalleled success in the country has birthed a cottage industry that often chafes with the conception of himself on the tennis court: restaurants, a rare cheese and even a national airplane that sports his name and likeness.
As Novak's father Srdjan has said, "Novak is Serbia, and Serbia is Novak." Unlike the other two of the big-three players (Rafael Nadal and Roger Federer), both from countries of relative privilege and athletic success, Djokovic means something larger to Serbia. He grew up in Belgrade when it was part of Yugoslavia—during a decade of multi-ethnic conflict between the Serbs, Bosnians and Croats, and NATO bombings against the Serbian aggressors—and his legacy is inextricably tied to the country's nationalism. If he ran for president, according to former president Boris Tadić, he'd win in a landslide.
If he ran for president, according to former president Boris Tadić, he'd win in a landslide.
All 6.6 million people in Serbia know this history: how he sheltered from the bombings in 1999 in his grandfather Vladimir's apartment at age 12, already primed to become a generational superstar. Today, that building sports a mural of Novak, his grandfather and his first tennis coach, Jelena Genčić. There are no plaques to announce who they are; you'd already know. Off to their side is a mural of Serbian-born Nikola Tesla, who invented electricity.
And yet, there's a clear divide between how his family and nation uses his likeness and how Djokovic sees himself. Novak did in fact own a restaurant once, only it was in Monte Carlo, and it served dishes like raw lasagna and vegetable gnocchi with smoked fermented cream.
There's a clear divide between how his family and nation uses his likeness and how Djokovic sees himself.

Once you take your seat inside Restaurant Novak 1 you might try a 2020 Djokovic Winery Chardonnay. The average person would be fooled into believing this is Novak's brand too. But, you can imagine, Novak is not big on alcohol (to be fair, he has said wine and ice cream are his cheat foods). In reality, Djokovic Winery, from the central Serbian town Šumadija, is run by Uncle Goran. Novak's inclusion in the brand's promotion seemed to be deeply unwanted, so much so that Goran had to clarify in 2022 that "Novak came to the soft launch of Djokovic Wine as a family member. He was very pleased with everything. Novak always wants to promote Serbia." However, as an athlete, Novak "does not promote alcohol."
With Chardonnay in hand, you'd probably want to sample a rare cheese made from Serbian donkeys—which sells for $585 a pound—as it was reported in 2012 that Djokovic had bought up the entire world's supply of it for the Belgrade restaurant. But you'd be out of luck. This story was again cooked up by Djokovic's family. Novak was forced to clarify that the cheesemongers "came to our restaurant and they offered the operation. We are now thinking and seeing what we can do with that." As of today, no deal has happened.
And yet, despite his international success, Djokovic always comes back to his home country. Not far from the Novak Tennis Center in Belgrade is the penthouse he bought in 2018, for a modest 518,000 euros, where he says he'll live when he retires from tennis. Nearby is Square Nine, one of Belgrade's only five-star hotels, of which Djokovic is a major investor. Its wood facade stands out from the ornate 19th century buildings on the street. The website says it's built in the "International Style." 🍷🧀✈️
