13-VII-2013.
The legendary shot of Neša, „the force is strong with this one“.
Geoff reports: „Procedure done and dusted! Feeling much better already. Back at my desk on Monday morning. Will start just after 10am. I have to take a quick trip to my GP to hand over documentation and for a quick checkup.“
Go got the second monitor for Neša's box. Now with two identical Dells (1920x1200) the yellow room looks hi tech. In the afternoon we went to Klincaid and made the first rakija for this year. The still still looks weird, what with the smear of the antirust chemical I applied two seasons ago.
Returning, we dropped by Zeki again. The debt is now below 700l of milk, precisely 695,8 because once it was 0,7 and once 1,5 - depends whether the big tank truck from Imlek comes for it. If we get there before the truck passes, we get all of the 5l; if we're late, we wait for the evening milking and get it fresh from the cow (okay, from the milking machine's tank). Those two times it happened that both he and their son were busy somewhere, so Lenka gave us what she had.
We'd also bring them stuff we'd picked too much of - green onions, swiss chards, dill, and pretty soon tomatoes as well and whatnot. We offered them saplings of this or that, she always makes more than needed, as backup, so there's often an excess amount, so let them plant it and have their own. They have just as much land around the house as we do, they could put aside a couple of ares in the back for a garden and have it all. But nope, Lenka said „we like it much better when you bring it“. That's around the time when the packaging started vanishing. We'd usually leave the stuff in the bucket we brought it in, taking an empty bucket home didn't make sense, we'll pick it up next time. And now the pretty enameled metal bucket remained with them and we never saw it again. They also borrowed the grain grinder and corn peeler, for which we paid Todor extra 6000 dinars, and saw neither anymore. Soon we stopped bringing them anything, just came to pick the milk.
Truth be told, they did bring a pot of pihtije once, this or last september. It was she who brought it, with her mother in tow. Mother was somewhat not hale, stiff elbow or what, didn't look quite assembled. The situation was set up as if they invited themselves to a coffee - now whether we already had one, or were just finishing it and ready to pack and go home, fuckit, can't go until you disperse the guests.
The pihtije we dumped, it was so thin, our beans congeal stronger than that, this was almost liquid. We returned the vessel.
rasejani started suggesting a place to meet, and somehow Zrenjanin was picked up as a good location halfway in between - which it is, for both the north Banat and Belgrade. „Trofej“ (trophy) was discarded because of bad food, Banatska may fail on weekends, just like „Pahuljica“ may, so I suggested Zanatlija, because Go had this parastos there two weeks ago and said the cook was a champion. So agreed.
Mentions: Banatska kuća, Geoff Gearney, Gorana Sredljević (Go), Jovan Dimijan (Zeki), Klincaid, Lenka Dimijan, maturski parastos (parastos), Nenad Berger (Neša), pihtije, rakija, rasejani, Todor Mirča, Zanatlija, in serbian
29-XII-2022 - 25-III-2026