Kolaci

I‘m a complete sucker for books, and so when I saw a tent erected outside the Posta (the ‘s’ is a ‘sh’) with a sign saying ‘Knjige’ I just had to go and have a look. There were lots of books about the Pope, lots about WW2 and Gardening, and then in a corner there were Cooking Books, particularly Domaci Kolaci (both of those ‘c’s are ‘ch’ sounds, the one on the first word is slightly different, but we won’t go there).

When I went on the picnic smoke tramp thingy last weekend, one of the women had brought the most beautiful dense, moist cake to share with us all because it was her daughter’s 19th birthday. (And could you please just pause and think that one through – she was turning 19 and had chosen to come on a picnic with her parents and 12 year old brother – parents must be much cooler here).
Anyway, I complimented her on the beautiful cake (and so had to eat two pieces!) and asked her for the recipe. There was a moment of silence apart from a cricket chirping in the background. She explained that the recipe is a family secret, passed down from her grandmother, and that there is serious competition here between households for the best version of the cake. And I’m talking bakeoffs. A quick appraisement of me and she knew that there was no threat of me toppling her from her Kolaci Reign - and she rattled the ingredients off quickly and I promptly forgot what she said.
So, and here’s where we get back to my new book- I have found the recipe for Torte Makarana (do you see? This is the local Makarska speciality!).It won’t be exactly as Maria said, but the theme is there.

TORTE MAKARANA
For the base
300 gms of flour, 1 egg, 1 egg yolk, 125 gms of butter, 1 cup tepid water.
Mix the flour and the eggs and butter, and slowly add the water until it is a pastry sort of format. Because that is what it is – the cake has a pastry base and sides, with strips of the pastry decorating the top. Wrap it in glad wrap and leave for 20 minutes in the fridge while you make the filling.
Filling
11 eggs, 350 gms sugar, 2 tsps vanilla sugar (or guess you could use essence), 250 gms ground natural almonds, 250 gms ground roasted almonds, 1 pinch of nutmeg, 1 dsp cocoa, grated rind of 2 oranges, grated rind of 1 lemon, juice of 1 orange¸ 50 gms of melted butter, 1 cap full of rum, 1 cap full of maraschino.

(The recipe says cep, with a ch sound for the c, which translates as ‘cork’ – so you get the idea of how much to throw in).
Separate 5 eggs – whip the whites until firm. Gently mix the dry ingredients, the melted butter, the egg yolks and the remaining full eggs (just one at a time) – don’t overmix – fold in the egg whites gently – don’t overmix- - pour into the prepared cake dish which you have now lined with pastry. Decorate it with a few strips of pastry over the top.
Cook at 180 for about 20 minutes, and then, cover the cake with tinfoil, reduce the temperature to 140 and cook for about one hour, but don’t overcook it and let it get dry. While it is doing the last 10 minutes, boil up the syrup;
Syrup
100 gms of sugar, 1 cap of maraschino, 1 cup of water - bring to the boil and then reduce the temperature and continue boiling gently until the mixture has become a syrup.
When the cake is cooked, pour the syrup over the cake and let it sit in the cake tin until it has cooled.
Let me know how it goes (I don’t have an oven, just a hob, otherwise I would try it out now!)
PS the photo shows a small individual cake – don’t be deceived. The recipe is for a 10 inch cake – use a spring form cake tin (is that what they are called??).

Gastronomical

Today started off as normal – run to Krvavica, row, home, muesli blah blah…
I needed a few things in town (like a coffee and a newspaper) so drifted in that direction, bought the most delicious strawberries from the market (imagine that, two seasons of jagoda in a row, but I must admit that these ones taste like the Real McCoy) and thought that a book in the sun would be good.

So, I settled myself onto a park bench (I have a great book at the moment, but more about that when I think you are Ready For Politics), started reading…. and heard the unmistakable sound of a Klapa Band.

I love that music. Mmmm choices, carry on as I am in the sun with my book or find where the music is coming from. My father said not to miss ANY opportunities – book closed, and walking in the direction of a large marquee, and it’s a Wine Festival! Wahoo!

Ok, trying to work out whether it is invite only¸ trying to look inconspicuous, trying to work out the system… Bojan introduces himself and explains – ticket is 30 kuna, and yes he is the event manager. Super. And in I go. The venue is full of people, and roasting hot. There are speeches and clapping, more speeches, clapping, speeches, clapping. And then the function is officially opened by the mayor – well, I guess he is the mayor, he has a mayoral suit and look about him.
The trick is that you buy a wine glass for 30 kuna (refundable if you return it with the coupon) and well, just get into it. There are all sorts of wine here from all sorts of areas – Slovenia, Bosnia and from the tip of the Dalmatian Coast up to the north. My favourite white is Grasevina (with a ‘sh’ for the ‘s’) I wandered around looking nonchalant for a while to get the hang of the process, but basically, try everything, and buy something if you like it. Which I did of course.
I tried 4 different rose’ type wines - I tried different cheeses

and bought a sir s kaduljom (chamomile flavour) and a beautiful salami – after trying quite a few. The food was superb, the wines were delightful, and the men were good looking and tall (just thought it worth mentioning). Bojan the Event Manager checked on me a few times to make sure that I was ok (I’m sure he was just doing his job) …

After an hour or so, having circled the marquee more than a few times (and congratulating the Australian guy selling his wine), it seemed appropriate to do a Cinderella. Returned the glass (although it was a nice fine one) and found myself a seat in the sun to continue where I left off with my book. Next thing I knew there was a handsome man asking whether I would like to join him with his friends on his yacht for a glass of wine. You know what? I hesitated ..and then remembered my dad saying to grab every opportunity (I’m sure that this is what he meant)… and sat on the yacht in the harbour in the sun and had a glass of champagne. Life’s hard.
And I just may, may, may follow up the invitation to join them at their restaurant this evening…

(BTW - the 'Super!' word that I am using is a Croatian expression. Not just being silly. In case you wondered.)

Kip

And now for something completely different, I’ve been wandering around town taking photos again!

Some of the locals seem to have noticed that I have been around for longer than the standard few days and have even started smiling when they say ‘dobar dan’. You just can’t appreciate what a breakthrough this is in a small town. I remember when our family moved to the Far North to live, being told that the locals don’t really accept anyone new until they have been around for three generations – I suspect it is the same here.

I wanted to show you the statues! There are a few charming statues in Makarska, and obviously a sense of humour too.

Overlooking the promontory of Sveti Petar is a very stern statue (a ‘kip’) of the same man, and general opinion is divided about whether he is looked at with fondness, but in the centre of town on the riva is a statue of a local guy who was referred to by the locals as the ‘seagull’ because of his propensity to pick up female tourists and ‘romance’ them, as it were.

The deal with this statue is that should you be so bold as to rub the woman’s right breast (which clearly many have because that part of the statue is rubbed shiny) you will have good luck. A twist on the statue in Split of Grgur Ninski which brings you luck if you rub the big toe. Much more charming to rub a breast I’m sure!
Then further down the main promenade there is another statue by the same sculptor, of a tourist floating in the sea. Looking self-satisfied. It’s cute and often has tourists standing around it trying to work out what it is – click on the picture to enlarge it so that you can get the detail.

The fishing boats were in the harbour as I was promenading, I smelt them and saw the gathering of buyers. So, real live fishmongers! Fish sold whole or filleted for you, weighed with a flourish and handed to you with a smile.

I’m not good at recognizing any of the local species and have to say that the one memorable experience with local seafood last year wasn’t one that I want to repeat. I was out at dinner a fortnight ago and the people who I was with suggested that we order one big fish stew pot between all of us. I bravely agreed, but when it came to the table, my stomach revolted and told me sternly that eating the seafood wasn’t going to happen. I had blitvah I krumpir. Pathetic, I know.
So, now I’m off to yoga - not yoga as I know it, but you don’t come to the other side of the world to get the same stuff. It’s slightly more sedentary than Mande White’s classes, but there is the bonus of loud sea music during the relaxation time. Of course, initially I didn’t have much idea of what she was telling us to do during the relaxation time, but some of the words and expressions are starting to make sense. Progress!

Wordsmith in the making

Oh, I’ve had an Inspirational morning. It started off with an inspirational run… it had rained overnight (and in fact as I write this the Biokovo is wearing a shroud of sorts) so presumed that rowing may be off the menu¸ and if it was on, there would be lots of eager hands to the vesle (blades). Full of energy I decided to run to Krvavica, all the while looking for the ultimate photo of a squirrel to send my granddaughter.

The stari put (old track) trails through the forest for a bit and then wanders along the coast¸ clearly marked by the red paint markers. I’m a sucker for tracks-if I can see another corner to investigate, I’m hard to stop.
No good squirrel moments though, but this photo gives you an idea..

And as I had the camera in my hand, I thought I may as well document my new rowing friends: introducing Basko (that 's' is a 'sh') and Ivan,

Josepi and Leon.

Leon had his first lesson in the boat yesterday – ruke (arms) only for the whole outing. Trener said he was the first at the club this morning. Today I watched as he was allowed to use the slide (sorry non rowers, this is boat talk) – what a smile! He was exhausted pretty quickly though – I think he is 11.
Anyway, back to Inspiration. (Work with me for a moment here..) One can’t help but notice that there are some creative English translations available here – signs, guide instructions and explanations, menus etc . To be fair, some are great¸ but others lack, well, good English. Which is of course charming in its own way… but, here I am, and I am FLUENT in English! A wordsmith even! So, I have offered my services (free of charge to start off with) to run my English-speaking eye over a few websites. Quality Assurance in the making.
I start tomorrow at Hotel Biokovo (after my coffee date at 10.00). I’ll let you know what comes of it.
Inspired huh?
PS look what you can do with toi-toi

A Walk in the Park

So, today I want you to come on a bit of an excursion with me. Put your tramping boots on, long trousers and long socks please, hurry up with your doručak because the bus is leaving at 8!

Tragic, but I always end up getting the seat by myself these days, having conversations in my head, listening to conversations around me, trying to decipher what is being said…. Oh, the ones behind me are definitely talking about me! I’m the odd one out on this trip – I thought that it was a tourist sort of trip but everyone is local and most of them are from one family. I’ll play donkey.
I’m trying to remember the names of the places that we visited today, thought that the Lonely Planet would be able to help but it seems that the LP needs updating, so, if I get the names wrong I don’t mind being corrected.
A two hour bus trip south along the coast with signs showing that we are nearing Dubrovnik and then we turned off left up towards Bosnia, through a town called Komin – we are in the plains area, and it looks like the breadbasket of the Dalmatian Coast – beautiful fertile gardens full of all the vegetables you can imagine – and the continuation of the Neretva River – that’s the beautiful green river that runs swiftly under the old bridge at Mostar, remember? (As an aside, just because I like asides, the book about Mostar describes the river as ‘bashful and wild, a petrified gush of beauty’ *sigh*, don’t you love it?). So, through Komin, on through to Metkovic where we piled off the bus and lit up our cigarettes. Well, everyone on the bus of 25 except for 2 (me being one of the 2). Instructions are scant, it’s just, well, when you have finished your smoke, you start walking. I’m getting the hang of this!

Most of the people are in tramping boots so my choice of footwear is not overqualified, but I don’t have one of those alpine walking Stick Things, you know, the flash telescopic ones. Actually there are a few who are really seriously decked out, and those ones have two of the Stick Things. I have Stick Envy!
We Indian file it (is that still a PC thing to say?) up through a village, and then through the forest (check out the snake, just had to photo it, such a tourist...)

We stopped at the brow of the hill after about an hour walking, everyone lit up, and the guy at the front explained that during the Roman times, there were two major Roman Cities in what is now Croatia - Salona (now Solin), near Split, which the Romans seized from the Illyrians in 78BC, and Narona (now Vid).
Which, happily, is the city that we are going to see. We snaked down the mountain for another 40 minutes, stepping on what I think is thyme, smells divine, stopped for another smoke, a further 30 minutes to the town of Momici, where we had another smoke and piled into two boats to travel up the river.

On board there is smokva (dried figs), wine, beer, raikja) (Very Strong Alcohol, prsut (prosciutto) and sir (cheese), smokes, and the makings of a fine lunch. I’ll let the photos do the scenery justice…
Now, the remains of the Roman city of Narona were discovered in 1995, not because anyone was actually looking for them, but because one of the local families was renovating their house and discovered the remains of the temple under the house, including a large part of the mosaic cellar floor. Rather than removing these artifacts to a museum, they created the museum ‘in situ’. The museum is called Arheološki Muzej Narona. I have tried to photograph the bits that you may find interesting, with the explanations of what they are. I don't want to overburden you though.
It was pretty amazing stuff.

I photographed the poster with the background information and you should be able to click on it to enlarge it so that you can read it. The thing that is amazing, is that this is just one temple of a whole city – so it would seem that most people in the area would have some part of the city under their house,(how cool is that!) but it is expensive to excavate individually (apart from which you lose your house) and too expensive for the government to buy up the houses in the area and do a full scale dig. So it lies there.

Time for a smoke.
Back on the boats to the picnic spot – and I have to say this is all beautifully done with white tablecloths and wild flowers – lunch started with a stew of lima beans, sausages and chunks of bacon – beautiful smoky flavor cooked in a big pot over a fire, followed by sausages and veal, krumpir i blitvah – my new favourite, potatoes and local spinach with lashings of olive oil.

On the table are big baskets of kruh (bread), more wine and beer and (fortunately) ash trays. Oh, and when someone says in Croatian that they bet the New Zealander is a vegetarian, I do understand what they are saying. I eat the meat. So there.
When the meal was done the piano accordion came out - some people played volleyball (complicated rules involving what happens when the ball hits the trees and bounces back into court), most sang. And these guys can sing – and harmonize. I just wished that I knew the words and could join in.
Cut a long story short, back on the boat, smoke, café, smoke, bus, home. Super! There, wasn’t that a good day!

Brela - for you Diana! (Sorry, it was night time so only night time photos)

The hot water in my apartment has developed a mind of its own. I had thought that the shower was a bit cold, and noticed that it took more time than I had patience for to get hot water into the kitchen sink (with my no plug). No-one could say that I was a problem tenant… after three days of this (yes, definitely cold showers) I dialed the number left for me by Branka, and spoke to Gordana, another lovely woman who has lived in NZ (and wishes that she still did).
She came and looked, confirmed that the water was in fact cold, and suggested that I shower in Branka’s apartment until they return. Which to date I haven’t done because the water was warmish again this morning. The temperature during the day (the air, not the water cylinder) is now up to 22 degrees, but drops very quickly to about 8 degrees in the early evening. I’m glad that I did bring the few winter clothes that I have with me. It seems crazy to be lying on the beach at 3 in the afternoon and then rugged up in the evening.

Gordana is the reception manager for a complex 10 minutes drive away at a town called Brela. So having bonded over the hot water, she suggested that I keep her company at work for the evening. She works from eight in the morning until three, and then has to return again at seven until nine in the evening. Which makes it difficult to have any time for any family time, but jobs are not easy to find.

Brela is quite different from Makarska – it is discreet and feels more substantial, not quite as commercial (on the face of it, although I’m sure that the tenet is still to get the last buck possible from the tourist) and feels more sophisticated. It is seriously full of retired German tourists. I wandered along the riva until the sun went down, sat in a kafic where I was the only customer and then joined Gordana for a meal in the hotel.

Drugi Rat at Brela is recorded (I was told, but don’t quote me) as one of the ten most beautiful beaches in the world. (But so is New Chums on the Coromandel). I tried to do the place justice with my camera, but you may find better images if you google Dugi Rat Brela.
One of the fascinating things that I have discovered is that in the winter when the Jugo and Bura winds are going to blow their darndest, the local (not sure what to call them but let’s go with council workers) remove the sand on the beaches by the truckload (Makarska too) – I use the term sand loosely – and they are currently trucking the sand back in again and re-spreading it around the beaches. This saves losing it into the sea over the winter. The intention is to keep the stretch of sand as wide and reef free as possible. (The formula being the wider the beach, the more people and beach chairs that you can fit in..)
The whole place (Makarska too, but more so Brela) looks as though it has been given a thorough cut and polish – grass has been cut, sprinkler systems are going and edges are being trimmed. Beaches have been re-sanded and then graded. In the peak season, teenagers are employed to rake and clean up rubbish from the beach at five in the morning.
Let’s not forget that Tourism is the top money spinner cum industry in Croatia. And like a well oiled clock, the tourists have started arriving this weekend.

Easter and Stuff

Hey check this photo out - this morning I had cause to go to the ljekarnik (chemist) to try and get some Briolene for my eye – I have only been able to wear one contact for a few days, and having tired of that game, decided that I needed to fix the problem. The lady understood my Croatian, found the ointment, and then wrapped it up in this paper – just nice old fashioned white paper with the universal chemist symbol on it. No plastic bag, just nicely folded paper.
And the same goes when you buy cheese or salami slices at the delicatessen – nice squarely- folded white paper. I like these little touches.

I also really like the street signs, the ones in the Mediterranean blue – Uice, Trg, and actual numbers on the houses. When you come into a district (like Makarska) the road sign is yellow but as you leave the area, and just as you start to drive into the next area, the same sign is there but with a cross through it – no room for error with signs like that.
The other thing that I am loving at the moment is the Easter thing – the

shops have Easter displays, the paper today had a free sheet of stickers with Sretan Uskirs (go on, work it out) included in it, and there was a snake of preschoolers in twos wending its way through town on Thursday selling little Easter things. How exciting to be a child at Easter here – not just knowing that there will be a chocolate egg, but the whole pageantry of the few days. Everyone seems to have extra family staying, and those backyard bbq things will be going tomorrow to feed the extended families.
I was sitting in a café this morning (I have a few – morning café, afternoon café, bura wind café and jugo wind café (different directions))

and to one side of the café there was a stand which I noticed had a few decorated eggs on it – and as I sat, various mothers with children came and pegged their eggs on the stand too – now there is a lovely collection of them.
Despite the notice on the Mountaineering Club Notice Board saying that there is a sestanje tomorrow, there isn’t – it’s Easter Sunday after all – no rowing either. Everyone around here will be at church. I’m looking forward to the sound of the church bells in the morning. 

Shopping

I’ve done a bit of shopping lately, setting up house. Initially I thought temporary thoughts and had decided that I would just live with the things in the apartment¸ but the juice glasses are small, not so good for a long rum (domaci) in the evening, so small that I drink it before I realize and then feel guilty for pouring a second one.
And I’ve been pretending that I don’t mind drinking wine from a small juice glass (same guilty comment applies, see above), so I have bought tall glasses and wine glasses. I’m filling my kitchen cupboards up.

Oh, and a small paring knife before I do something lethal with the large bread knife in the drawer. Oh, and a rucnik za plazu, a beach towel, and a local phone. I had initially limited myself to a local SIM card but the swapping over of the cards with missed texts and phone calls was frustrating. Goodness, there are so few calls, I don’t want to miss any!
But I couldn’t find a plug for the kitchen sink, at least not in the three shops that I tried to mime out what I needed – I didn’t have my dictionary with me, and was not ever very good at those charade games. It seems that a plug is not the norm.
In the winter season which applies until Easter I think, shops are open at 8 in the morning, and most likely to be closed by 2. One of the three supermarkets is open until 8 but the others close earlier, especially on a Sunday. Not much is open on a Sunday afternoon – the pecara (baker) and the butcher are open though, great for bread on the way back from the beach.
I love the delicatessens in the supermarkets where you can buy a few slices of cheese or prsut or salami. They fold it into a lovely square in old-fashioned white paper. A few times I have been caught out not having my fresh produce weighed and priced before going to the checkout. And there is no eftpos, cash only. I won't be able to stop converting into NZ$ for a while, quickly dividing kuna amounts by just under 5. Muesli for example is 22 kuna, a dozen slices of salami is 4 kuna and a bag of delicious dried figs are 15 kuna and last me a week or so. I guess the cost of things is comparable if not slightly cheaper. The long drinking glasses (for 6) were 35 kuna, but the phone was 275 kuna. Coffee (small cup of coffee with hot frothed milk, and comes with a glass of iced water and sometimes a ginger biscuit) is between 7 and 9 kuna depending on which café. Reasonable enough to justify, particularly as I take an hour or so in the café drinking it.
There are no obvious fashion stores in Makarska really, apart from United Colours of Beneton – and then two are for children and babies, and one is for adults. I tried the sports stores to find a replacement top for running, but there was very little of that variety for women. And the shops aren’t obvious – not much advertising, no real window displays - functional is the key.

I bought my new Mountaineering Pants in a shop called Mana, which turned out to be huge by hadn't even noticed it in the street.

Split is the place to go for a shopping fix, and only 1 ¼ hours away by bus! And they have those shoe shops that I love walking into and just smelling….