Friendship - It's What's for Dinner

I first met Mishko and Natasha when I was fifteen. In our group of seven or eight friends I was the youngest, and when everybody left to conquer the frontier that was the University of Belgrade, I was still in high school. They all returned home for the holidays and summer breaks, and I ventured into our capital a couple of times, starry-eyed, to visit them and experience the big city lights.

Two years later I received my own University  ID and began the frighteningly exhilarating life of a freshman. We spent a lot of time together, in their dorms, apartments, and my Aunt and Uncle’s home where I lived. We played cards, board games, went out dancing,  got drunk on anything that was available, had passionate arguments about (dis)advantages of primitive cultures who lived on tropical islands and probabilities of parallel lines meeting in the future. We planned picnics by the streams, grilled huge piles of  succulent pork, went on long bike rides and came back covered in mud; we dressed in our best to welcome every New Year together, attended four-day Italian neo-realism movie marathons, and lost our voices singing at full blast at concerts. We spent our summer breaks together, camping on the Adriatic, and our winter breaks skiing in Kopaonik, where my Father had a cabin. We were the “brat pack”, the inseparable bunch, fused together for eternity.

Natasha and I were roommates when she was a senior. One day in late April, just before she graduated, she told me that she and Mishko were getting married in July.  We hugged each other, cried, danced a silly dance, and cried some more. That summer I spent in Granby, Colorado, on a student exchange program, arranged months before, working as a waitress in a Best Western (anybody stayed at “El Monte” recently? It is on the continental divide). The invitation for their wedding, addressed to me in the USA,  went all over the world, before I finally received it in Belgrade, in December, after one of my American managers graciously forwarded it to me when it reached Granby.

That summer decided my future. I skipped continents a couple of years later, made America my home, and my friends stayed behind, got married, had children, celebrated holidays, went on vacations. I was never there, but I was always there. I missed most of the weddings. I was not present at their children’s births and birthdays.  And I suffered. But, for thirty years our friendship endured. It overcame the distances, the war, the sanctions, the bombing. The world around us changed, we changed, but the strength of our friendship did not. And “going home” every summer not only cemented our friendship, it brought our kids together. The new generation discovered each other, and formed their own connections.

Just before the year 2005 turned to 2006, Mishko and Natasha’s 16 year old son flew from Serbia to Cleveland, to spend a month with us. He and the College Kritter were good friends since they were peanuts. She took him to school with her and introduced him to her strange, geeky and amazingly creative friends. I took him ice-skating with the rest of the kiddie crew. Husband took him to a Cavaliers’ game and to Jacob’s Fields. We went to outside shopping malls, mega-bookstores, all kinds of different restaurants, including Hoggie’s, House of Blues and Metropolitan. We explored downtown Cleveland fighting the freezing winds that made our nostrils stick together. If he were not there, we would not have visited The Rock ‘N’ Roll Hall of Fame. So, thank you, Damjan! I cooked Mexican, Thai, Chinese, American, French, Italian, anything to please this very picky eater, and to make his stay with us memorable. He went back to Serbia with, I hope, a lot of fond memories of our family.

A couple of days upon his return I spoke with my friend Natasha about his experience here in the USA. She chuckled and said: “Do you know what he said when I asked him what his favorite American meal was? Ajmokac!” We both burst out laughing.

Damjan is 21 now, studying Philosophy at University of Belgrade. College Kritter is in Germany, making detailed plans for a July trip around Central Europe with her best friend, Damjan. Some things change. Some things stay the same. And some things return in a loop.

AJMOKAC (I-mo-kutz)

This dish is, I believe, of Central-European origin. Mother is from the northern part of our country, Vojvodina, which was a part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire for a long time. When she married the Father, she brought with her a lot of recipes not familiar to Serbia. Damjan has never had “ajmokac” before, and he just assumed it was an American dish! This was one of my favorites growing up, and now my children love it. I post the recipe for this simple dish, for the friends and friendships, for love continued.

Ingredients:

• ½ large onion
• 1 whole chicken breast on the bone
• 3-4 carots
• ½ parsnip
• 2 celery stalks
• 1-2 bay leaves
• 3-4 peppercorns
• 1 quart chicken stock*
• Sauce:
• 2 Tbs oil or butter
• ¼ cup flour
• 3 garlic cloves, minced
• 1 cup milk
• 1 cup chicken stock
• 2-3 Tbsp red wine vinegar (according to taste)
• 1 ½  tsp salt
• ½ tsp freshly ground pepper

*You can use homemade stock, or store-bought;I always keep chicken bones, necks, gizzards and livers in a baggie in my freezer, and I add use them to enhance the flavor of the stock

Directions:

Turn the burner on medium-high and roast the onion half, flat side down, until charred. Fill the stock pot with a quart of water. Add charred onion, chicken, vegetables, spices, and chicken stock. Heat until it boils, skimming the scum as it appears. As soon as it boils, turn the heat to medium-low and simmer for 20 minutes.

Take the chicken out and let it cool. Cook the soup for another 30 minutes. Strain (you will need 1 cup of stock; save the rest for another  occasion) . Heat the oil or butter in a skillet on medium heat. Add the flour and stir to incorporate. Add the garlic and stir to infuse the flavor. Gradually whisk in mik and chicken stock (use the strained stock from earlier) until smooth. Add the vinegar, salt and pepper. Taste and adjust seasonings accordingly. Take the chicken off the bone in large chunks and add to sauce. Add the carrots, cut in halves or quarters, depending on size. Simmer on low heat until sauce thickens. Serve with pasta, mashed potatoes or rice.