Somehow it seems wrong to announce the arrival of summer to Southern California. I am still not fully acclimated to my surroundings, and I think in “seasons”. I can always pretend the sky was not cerulean blue back in March, just like it was this morning. I have to justify the presence of my brown leather boots – I am not willing to part with them yet. And the bag full of scarves, mittens and winter hats sits in the closet, buried behind a tower of neatly folded teeshirts. I sometimes wake up in the middle of the night, sweating from anxiety, aware that I have not finished (nor started, for that matter) the seasonal wardrobe switch. I go back to sleep, smiling, remembering that now I live in the state of infinite spring.
Last weekend Husband and I visited South Coast Farm in San Juan Capistrano (does anyone still remember the song When the Swallows Come Back to Capistrano”? I better send the link to the Mother who just adores Pat Boone). We hoped to score some heirloom tomatoes, but we were out of luck. Next week, folks, they said! Fresh from the vine tomatoes mark the beginning of summer for me. The lonely cherry tomato planted in a pot on our patio brings forth two or three minuscule globes a week – just enough for the kids to remember the taste of their red goodness. I know I can think on my toes – spontaneous is often a necessary adjective in my life. I invoked a Serbian summer meal, sans tomatoes. Freshly made bread, “cevapcici”*, chopped onion and “”urnebes”** spread, paired with cold beer and California breeze, define the summer in any language. A nice dollop of “kajmak” (Serbian version of clotted cream) would have elevated this meal to yet another level, but we do not have access to cows, or unpasteurized milk (where is Milorad, the milk-man when you need him?). I cannot take any credit for “cevapcici” (che-vap-chi-chi), because they arrived frozen, from Cleveland, craftily made by Boro the Macedonian. But mastering the art of making this delicacy is on my list.
While the bread was proofing, I sat outside and watched the signs of summer emerge. Little birds flew out of their nest under a post over the patio. I could hear children splashing in the pool, screeching, imagining their fingers turning to prunes. My plants spread their greenery over the pots. Even the side of the hill across from the apartment was brimming with life. And then there was the sky – uninterrupted deep blue that warms your soul and assures you everything is going to turn OK. California sky does not allow desolate thoughts. There is no room for despair, for hopelessness. You may leave your home feeling desperate, but once you are out of the door, facing the sky, the bad and the ugly disappear – only the good lingers. The smell of eucalyptus and budding citrus trees welcoming you in the morning does not hurt, either.
Even though I sometimes get melancholy imagining the smell of fallen leaves raked into a pile mingling with the smoke from the fireplace, I have not been here long enough to wish for something different. I do not miss the huge, dirty snow drifts along the roads. There is no nostalgia throwing me in a sentimental mood if my car does not house an ice-scraping tool. I am at peace with the eternal spring, with infinite blue skies of California. I have found my home away from home. And if I ever find an urge to dig out the scarves, mittens and skiing hats, Big Bear Mountain beckons with its slopes, and snow, and the promise of real mid-western winter. In the meantime, we’ll do summer, Cali-Serbian way.
*”ćevapčići” or “ćevapi” are ground meat finger-shaped kebabs, originally introduced to the Balkans by the Ottoman Turks, spreading their empire westward; they are a specialty of the Balkans, particularly Bosnia, where they are made with ground lamb and beef, and Serbia, where pork is also included in the mix.
**”urnebes” is a spicy spread, or a condiment, originating from southern Serbia, the area famous for its peppers; there are several variations of this dish, but mostly all contain older, white cheese similar to feta, red pepper flakes and roasted red peppers.
LEPINJE
This bread is similar to middle-eastern flat breads, like pita. In Bosnia, it is called “somun”. If you ever visit Sarajevo, eating one of these filled with “ćevapi”, strolling down cobble-stoned Baš-Čaršija is a must. (Lepinje, pronunciation leh-pee-nyeh)
Ingredients:
- 1 envelope (7gr)of yeast
- 1 tsp sugar
- 300ml (1 ¼ cups) warm water
- 500gr (4 cups) all-purpose flour (I use King Arthur or Five Roses, if I can find it)
- 1 tsp salt
Directions:
In a large bowl mix yeast, sugar and a ½ cup of water. Let it sit until it foams up. Add the flour, salt, and water. Mix with the wooden spoon (the dough will be very soft) until it all comes together. Cover with a clean towel and let rise on room temperature about 30 minutes. Mix again. Line a cookie sheet with parchment paper and dust with flour. Cover the working surface with flour. Get some flour on your hands and divide the dough into 5-6 pieces. Form into balls, rolling them in the flour and flatten to ½ inch thickness. Place the disks into the cookie sheet and dust with a bit of flour. Preheat the oven to 450F and let the bread rise in the meantime. Bake for 15 minutes, until golden. Let rest, covered with a kitchen towel for 5 minutes.
This post is going to 12 Days of Bloggie-mas, hosted by Alex of A Moderate Life.
