Traditional Sunday lunchTradicija nedeljnog ručka
Text by Sara and Jana Pavlović (12 and 15 years)
Sunday is a holy day when no work is done. It is a day for going to church, for rest, and for family lunch. On Sundays, the beautiful, wide streets of our Vojvodina smell of soup that boils and whispers lightly on the stove, of strudels that soak and rise slightly, of tomato or spice sauces. Everything is somehow solemn.
In the early morning, the Farmers wash their faces with cold water, shave, take on their formal suits and go to church for a service, or to a nearby cafe for a glass of conversation. During that time, the women roll up the sleeves of their dresses, put on starched aprons and start preparing Sunday lunch. First, they add the soup from the courtyard chicken or rooster, clean it, and add garden greens, onions and carrots. When the pot lid starts to dance on the music of boiling soup, the pot is taken aside so that the soup does not become cloudy. The dough is already sour in the bowl, it rises and smells, and in the plates, there are walnuts with sugar and poppy seeds ready to be sprinkled and filled with thick ores. And then the dough is lightly rolled out with a rolling pin with plenty of walnuts and poppy seeds. Rolled ores are placed in a baking pan and then in the oven. Beautiful odor begins to rise and spread over the kitchen and courtyard. Around noon its time for preparing meat which is fried, Vienna style, and then arranged on a shallow plate. And then a salad of thinly sliced cucumbers, garlic or lettuce is prepared, although we prefer one made of tomatoes, onions, and peppers the most. The Farmer is coming back from the church. The table is ready, with a white sheet that is necessarily on Sundays, shallow and deep plates, wine. We don’t need to be told to sit at the table twice.
All of us know that we are bound by this Sunday festive lunch, the land, the blood of our ancestors and all our Vojvodina predecessors, and the love we drink in that soup and drink in a glass of wine, the love that is placed on that table and which will bind us, remind us and bless us for a lifetime. So let’s keep and nurture that Sunday lunch because – that is the love, that is the warm measure of life and that golden thread of our closeness and visitation in this world.
by Sara i Jana Pavlović
Nedelja je sveti dan kad se ne radi nego, ide u crkvu, odmara i za punim astalom ruča sa familijom, onako redom i obavezno natenane. Nedeljom lepi, široki šorovi naše Vojvodine mirišu na supu koja lagano vri i šapuće na šporetu, na štrudle koje kisnu i dižu se lagano, na sosove od paradajza ili mirođije. Sve je nekako svečano.
Paori se ranim jutrom umiju hladnom vodom da se rasane, obriju, izvade svoja svečana odela i upute u crkvu na službu ili u obližnju kafanu na čašicu razgovora. Za to vreme žene zasuču rukave svojih haljina, pripašu uštirkane kecelje i počnu da pristavljaju nedeljni ručak. Prvo se pristavlja supa od avlijske koke ili petla, čisti se i dodaje baštenska zelen, luk i šargarepa. Kad poklopac počne da šklopoće kad supa počne da vri lonac se stavi na stranu da se supa ne zamuti. U činiji već kisne testo, diže se i miriši a u tanjirima orasi sa šećerom i mak spremni za posipanje i filovanje debeljuškastih ruda. A onda lagano oklagijom se testo razvuče , ne štedi na orasima i maku, pa se urolane rude stave u tepsiju pa u rernu. Kako se počnu dizati i peći, zamiriše i kuhinja i avlija. Oko podne se pohuje meso koje cvrči, peni se i rumeni i na plitki tanjir ređa. A onda se sprema salata od tanko rezanih krastavaca, belog luka ili zelene salate, a najviše volimo onu od paradajza, luka i paprike. Uto evo i domaćina. Astal spreman, beli čaršaf obavezno nedeljom, plitki i duboki tanjiri, politra vina. Ne treba nam dvaput reći da sednemo za sto.
Sv mi za tim nedeljnim blagoslovenim astalom znamo da smo svoji, pod istim krovom i da nas veže ovaj nedeljni svečani ručak, zemlja, krv naših pradedova i svih naših vojvodjanskih prethodnika, i ljubav koju srčemo u toj supi i ispijamo u čaši vina, ljubav koja je postavljena na tom stolu i koja će nas vezivati, podsećati i blagosiljati za ceo život. Zato čuvajmo i negujmo taj nedeljni ručak jer on je ljubav, ona topla mera života i ona zlatna nit naše bliskosti i gostovanja na ovom svetu.
