The weather in Southern California has been fiercely hot recently. Husband complained about humidity several days ago, but today’s dry heat was more to his liking. Hot with a chance of more hot. As long as I can find shade, I do not gripe about the weather. After all, it is California, and we moved here intentionally, dreaming of nice, warm days all year long. But, warm can be a pretty relative term.
It cannot compare to summers in the Midwest, when the humidity would reach 80 to 90 percent. Taking a shower was obsolete. Straightening your hair? Why bother? In minutes all the unwanted curls would show up at random places on your head. The meticulously applied make-up would become a shiny gloop and rivulets of sweat would run down between your breasts, at the nape of your head, and around the edges of your hairline. That perfectly selected white blouse would stick to your ribs and you would keep your arms close to your body in fear of showing the sweat stains.
My relatives and friends in Europe did not understand this phenomenon. I tried for years to explain, but it was all for nothing. Until one day a memory struck me head-on and I knew I had the perfect example. I went back in time to my student days at the University of Belgrade.
It is June and the whole city is pulsating with sweltering temperatures. The asphalt appears to shift, to shimmer, to change hues in front of your eyes. The concrete emanates heat like a microwave and the air is hopelessly still. The green oasis of the parks is not enough to combat the merciless and relentless attack of the sun, and it seems that the city has succumbed to the fiery god. The last classes of the semester find us listless and unable to concentrate. Our minds are wandering, seeking refuge from the stuffy, stale air of the classroom. The professors feel it more than us and let us go earlier than expected. We run down the two flights of stairs and emerge onto the street. The hot air envelopes us as we hurry to our favorite gathering place next to the “Knez Mihajlo” sculpture.
Exhausted and weary, we collapse into the plastic chairs on the plaza, under the umbrella. As on command we light up our Marlboros and relax, pummeled by the heat, but comforted by the hour of leisure. We smile sweetly and accept a brochure from a Hare Krishna girl dressed in an orange sarong. We throw some change at the Gypsy boy playing the accordion. We skim the National Theater schedule and pick a couple of events worth visiting. As we light another cigarette the waiter appears, and we all order Ice Café (this is a European summer treat – cold instant coffee with a scoop of vanilla ice cream and some fresh whipped cream). Even in this heat, all the tables are occupied. For a moment we forget the rising temperatures and incoming exams. We chatter, gossip, argue, and laugh, while nursing our drinks through several cigarettes. The heat is still unrelenting, but we are oblivious to it. At one point in time, as if on cue, we get up, say our goodbyes and stroll off in different directions.
I usually have a book with me and waiting for the city bus is not an ordeal. At four o’clock in the afternoon, when the factories spit thousands of workers out of their halls, the bus stops are crowded. At long last the right bus arrives and I have to elbow my way into it. Closely gripping my black canvas bag from Germany, I hold onto a steel pole. The windows are sealed shut to prevent death-by-draught (I thought this was a Serbian phenomenon, but I guess the Italians suffer from the same ailment). There are no places to sit, and standing room is pretty scarce. In a couple of minutes I feel the sweat beading on my arms. I hold onto a pole, trying to keep steady every time the bus takes a sharp turn. The guy next to me is awfully close and I move away from him, nestling next to a grandma coming home from the market, hauling a basket of produce. By this time I am completely drenched. And I do not sweat easily! The bus takes its sweet time to get to my stop. I exit, panting, and rush across the stretch of land that separates the bus stop from my Uncle’s building in Novi Beograd (a newer part of town). As I cross the no-man’s land, I say a mantra wishing for the elevators to work. Climbing two sets of stairs to the eighth floor is not easy. AT ALL!. Coming up the elevator, or having to climb the stairs, I arrive completely exhausted, feeling clamminess all over my skin. Once I ring the bell and see the beautiful face of my cousin Maja I start feeling at home. I know my Aunt Pašana will make us coffee and later dinner. I will shower and lay back on the bed, relaxed and cool. I will study, the cool breeze from the fan rustling the pages, forgetting for a moment the moist heat that enveloped me on the bus.
So, there it goes: Mid-West humidity feels like being on a crowded local bus on the sunniest day of the summer, with all the windows safely locked. I know that my sister and my friends can relate. I hope that my parents can relate. The days of humid midwest summers basting me in my own juices are behind me. I welcome the heat of California with all my soul. And because of that we decided not to cook today. We opted for sandwiches instead. BLTAs.
We bought the onion rolls at Albertson’s. I whipped up a cup of mayonnaise in no time while the bacon sizzled in the pan. We crisped up the rolls in the oven for five minutes and presented the casual dinner on the “lazy susan” in the middle of the table. The AC was humming quietly in the background and nobody complained of being too hot or too cold.
We love living in California and this dinner was a casual celebration of the state and the bounty it provides. Fresh tomatoes and avocados don’t need a lot of frills to satisfy. The sandwiches were as cool as we were.
BLT SANDWICHES WITH EXTRIES
Ingredients:
- 4 onion or Kaiser rolls, warmed up in the oven for 5 minutes, at 350F
- 1 pound of bacon, fried
- 2 heirloom tomatoes, sliced
- 2 Tbsp mayonnaise (I make my own. It’s very easy and tastes so much better then store-bought)
- lettuce
- Avocado, optional
- turkey deli meat, optional
- onion slices, optional
I am submitting this post for Kahakai’s Souper Sundays and
Lana, na žalost vreme u Srbiji se menj svake godine. Vlažnost vazduha, sunce koje peče, da koža boli kada pocrveni posle desetak minuta na Suncu, sve je to novo za nas ali se privikavamo. Klime svuda u Beogradu, ni mi nismo izuzetak. U svetu izbacuju klime kao štetne po zdravlje a ovde su svuda. Kaplju po ulicam one izvodne cevi iz klima po prolašnicima, neko kuka i žali se što je poprskan kao slučajni prolaznik u Popodnevnom programu, nekome je fino kada mu hladna kap sklizne niz leđa. Zaboravila si komarce sa Save i Dunava i čekanje kada će prskati.
I ja nekad volim da se osladim ovakvim sendvičem, pa kad čovek kuva onda mu ovo dođe kao poslastica jer u nekim kućama se na ovome živi svaki dan, a na žalost kod nas sve više i više.
He, he, Jelena, naravno da nisam zaboravila komarce! Samo što sam onda bila mladja, pa mi je sve izgledalo drugačije:) Što se klima-uredjaja tiče, Amerikanci bez njih ne mogu. Ja se stalno prepirem sa mužem, on pali, ja gasim. Ovde u Kaliforniji stvarno nisu potrebni, tek ponekad, po sat’dva, kao ovih dana )svi prozori na stanu su na istoj strani, pa ne mogu da napravim promaju).
Pozdrav!
Your sandwich looks delicious. A little avocado makes anything taste even better. Thanks for sending it to Souper Sundays and welcome! Hope to have you back again.
Aloha,
Deb
No joke, I thought of making this today and photographing it… It even looked like this in my head. I AM TOTALLY SERIOUS! Grew up in Illinois, sticky sticky sticky… I love the dry heat.
~ Chef Louise
@Deb, thank you for hosting an event that glorifies soup. I love preparing soups and I know I’ll be back next Sunday. It feels weird to submit my first post with a sandwich, though. Oh, well, there is always another time…
@Louise, I commiserate on sticky childhood weather. It robs you of energy. i was planning on making a Greek -style chicken, but the family voted for BLAT! I do not complain, It’s much easier!
I enjoyed your remembrance as much as your sandwich. I spent my childhood in Chicago long before air conditioning made the summer bearable. I could relate. I hope you are having a great weekend. Blessings…Mary
Mary, the Midwest summers are a trial on the body. Especially if you are used to dry heat. But my husband tells me I had it easy in Michigan in Ohio – he spent 30 years in Georgia and Louisiana:)
My weekend is looking great! Thank you! You are always so thoughtful.
Now that’s a sandwich! Perfect in every way, my husband would be so happy! However… I would love if you would send some of your heat, or maybe even just the sun a bit to the west. We are in Carlsbad and have had the coldest summer, well, I don’t think I would even call it summer! Gray, chilly and oh so yucky. Sandwiches like this make up for it though!
Ja sam prije godinu dana promijenila posao i sad radim ravno u centru grada na trgu Bana Jelačića.. do kud se ne može doći sa autom
Ovo mi je bilo prvo ljeto da idem svaki dan tramvajem do grada………Strava.. Iako nas je naš mili gradonačelnik modernizirao i kupio nam klimatizirane tramvaje, nema tu pomoći.. Ti mirisi, ljudi, zapara….jaaaaaaaaaooo. Ja sam se u principu svaki dan dovezla do posla pa tako i doma, da sam jednu stanicu išla tramvajem , taman pred stadij rušenja u nesvjest van iz tramvaja pa opet jednu… 
) I baš sam pitala mamu kako su oni to preživljavali.. u busevima i tramvajima bez klime ??? Sjećam se da su jedne godine izmjerili na jednoj od najprometnijih autobusnih linija u Zagrebu 65 C…:))
Vrućina kad nema vlage je super.. To sam doživjela ovo ljetu u Tunisu. Vani 50 C, a ja se ne znojim
) Divota.
BLT sendviče smo muž i ja tamanili svaki dan kad smo bili u New Yorku. RAdila sam ih par puta doma, ali nije mi to to.. Valjda ću morati opet skoknuti do Amerike
))
Andrea, moje saučešće!:) Vožnja gradskim prevozom, leti, kad upeče zvezda – užas! Ma, neću da se sećam, to sam mogla da podnosim samo kad sam imala 20 i neku! Ova pustinjska vrućina mi uopšte ne smeta, ja sam kao gušter. Mora da sam u prošlom životu živela negde na Jadranskoj obali:)
Ih, pa kao što naša jela nisu isto ovde, tako ni američki sendviči ne mogu da imaju isti ukus tamo. Nije samo do sastojaka, nego i do atmosfere i okruženja.
Sledeći put “skokni” do zapadne obale – bar imamo avokado!
Your sandwich looks absolutely delicious – and I like my summers dry too!!
Thanks, April! BLAT is one of those extremely simple, but wonderfully delicious foods – fresh ingredients are a must:)