duh srbije / serbian spirit
UKUS BLISKOSTI I DOBROTE TASTE OF CLOSENESS AND GOODNESS
K oliko je puta i vaš pisac, zaglavljen negde na kra- ju sveta u pravom zapad- njačkom raju, odlagao bu- đenje samo da se ne bi susreo ponovo sa istim, dosadnim hotelskim doruč- kom... Sanjajući da je negde u Srbi- ji, da iz susedne prostorije čuje čan- grljanje starog šporeta na drva koji neko upravo loži, zveckanje posu- đa i zvoncavi zvuk praznih šoljica za kafu. Budite se, tako, u nekoj staroj ku- ći u srcu Srbije, odlazite u kuhinju kod domaćina, a oni vam iznose ne- što tako retko u belom svetu: slatko od trešanja, zamagljenu čašu hladne vode i majušnu čašicu domaće pre- pečenice. Tako započinje dan u Sr- biji... I gle čuda! Te trešnje, ta mala zlatasta sunca poslužena sa ljubav- lju, što se presijavaju u sićušnoj sta- klenoj činijici, spiraju istog časa gor- ki ukus promašenosti i uzaludnosti na vašim nepcima... One vam ponovo vraćaju odavno izgubljeni ukus bla- goslovene bliskosti i dobrote… Tako je pisao Momo Kapor, sa čežnjom se sećajući vremena dobre srpske tradicije koja polako, ali sigur- no iščezava, odlazeći sa onima ko- jih, kao ni Mome, nažalost, više ne- ma. Malo, slatko posluženje gotovo je 200 godina bilo simbol srpske go- stoljubivosti, ona poruka dobrodoš- lice koja je iz srca nuđena svakom dragom gostu. Danas taj običaj prak- tično više ne postoji nigde osim u ponekom zabačenom selu gde se još neguje nasleđe predaka. I legendarni Duško Radović dav- nih je dana primetio da se sve ređe sreće sa domaćicom koja mu nudi medene plodove voća, pa je sa Beo-
H ow many times has your writer, stuck somewhere at the end of the world in a true western paradise, put off waking up in order to avoid again confronting the same, boring hotel breakfast... Dreaming that he is somewhere in Serbia, and that he can hear from the next room the clat- tering of an old wood-fired stove to which someone is adding wood, rat- tling dishes and the ringing sound of empty coffee cups. Wake up, thus, in an old house in the heart of Serbia, go to the kitch- en and the host will bring you some- thing that is so rare overseas: cher- ry slatko, a misty glass of cold water and a tiny glass of homemade rakija brandy. So begins the day in Serbia ... And, lo and behold! Those cherries, those small golden suns served with love, which glisten in a tiny glass bowl, instantly wash away the bitter taste of failure and futility on your taste buds... They return to you the long-lost taste of blessed closeness and goodness...” So wrote Momo Kapor, longing- ly recalling the times of good Serbi- an traditions that are disappearing slowly but surely, going the way of those which, like Momo, are unfor- tunately no more. A little slatko has been served for almost 200 years as a symbol of Serbian hospitality, a wel- come message that is offered from the heart to every dear guest. This practice essentially no longer exists anywhere today, except in the occa- sional remote village where the leg- acy of ancestors is still cherished. The legendary Duško Radović also noticed long ago that it was
„Te trešnje, ta mala zlatasta sunca poslužena sa ljubavlju, što se presijavaju u sićušnoj staklenoj činijici, spiraju istog časa gorki ukus promašenosti i uzaludnosti na vašim nepcima“, Momo Kapor “Those cherries, those small golden suns served with love, which glisten in a tiny glass bowl, instantly wash away the bitter taste of failure and futility on your taste buds,” ~ Momo Kapor
Tekst / Words: Jelena Pantović Fotografije / Photography:
Zoran Lončarević Stajling / Styling : Ljiljana Perović
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