It’s the holiday season and I am trying not to drown. One week after the beginning of the school year the children are home again, all suffering from an incurable case of itchy boredom. Symptoms can be temporarily alleviated by hitting big brother upside the head just to see what will happen (mini stampede chase around the house). Thankfully, the older kids have found ingenious ways of entertaining themselves. There is nothing like tarzanning out of a hammock tied to the second floor window.

Under this relaxing atmosphere I was trying to cook for the Jewish New Year. Although I didn’t even host the dinner this year, I promised myself that I would never, ever cook again-never. These thoughts  quickly dissolved once I was at the table, so beautifully decorated with the symbolic foods of the holiday, and surrounded by family.

What did we make? I brought lamb stew with Jerusalem artichokes and sweet potatoes, chicken soup with kreplach, potatoes and salad. My Mother-In-Law went all out and made her own gefilte fish, chopped liver, lemon-teriyaki salmon, chicken, potatoes, cakes…. The traditional and the new, it was all so, so good. I love the holidays!

Healthy, Happy and Prosperous New Year and Happy Eid to all those celebrating

Skopje City Museum, The clock shows the time of the 1963 earthquake

When traveling, I always feel obligated to go to museums, after all, who would think of leaving Rome without seeing the Sistine Chapel.  But after hours exploring magnificent exhibitions, endless rows of priceless statues, tapestries and paintings, I start to …. gosh I haven’t been this bored since age six waiting for the end of summer vacation.  The guide shovels information into my shrinking head and it falls right off on the other side. Museums make me sleepy, they are hushed, dark and brooding with the air conditioner always set to body temperature. In the History museum in Bulgaria I was looking at a seven thousand year old skeleton thinking that it couldn’t possibly be right. It must have been last month’s visitor who asphyxiated in the airless rooms, her last thoughts “just let me sleep, just let me sleep….”

but as soon as I am out…with oxygen in my brain I feel alive again, ready to boast to everybody that yes, I went to the municipal museum of Skopje in the Republic of Macedonia and anyone who didn’t go is really missing out.

The museums may show the county’s past but its heart is in the outdoor markets, not hidden behind a glass display case. It is here the senses come alive with the prodigal harvest of summer. Stalls are stocked with freshly grown or locally made products; fresh fruits and vegetables, wild herbs for tea, homemade yogurt in recycled soft drink bottles, jars of pickled grape leaves, white beans the color of ivory and rows of  imported Greek olives. With produce this beautiful just imagine what can be made from it, dishes that are nothing less than incredible.

Skopje Market, Macedonia

Skopje Market, Rice merchant

Ayran, yogurt drink. Skopje, Macedonia

Old fashioned scale in Skopje, Macedonia

Braiding Garlic, Skopje, Macedonia

Beans from Tetova, sold in Skopje, Macedonia

Saturday Market, in Debar, western Macedonia

Sirene cheese, Debar Market

Road side stand, eastern Macedonia

Herbs for making tea, Bitola, southern Macedonia

Imported Greek Olives, Bitola, Macedonia

"Take a picture of me!", melon merchant, Bitola, Macedonia

Homemade pepper pickles, Bitola, southern Macedonia

But sadly what is served in many road side eateries in Macedonia is surprisingly lacking in flair. The menu consists mainly of grilled meats called sklara, spongy pizzas and a few salads. There is a limit to how much kebab one can eat, and when yet another waiter recommended their kebabchichi, we looked at each other and thought this has got to stop. Traditional food is made at home by mothers and grandmothers, and not something the local’s would go out to eat. When we did happen upon homemade cooking it was flavorful, rich and wholesome. Reason enough to postpone our travels just to have another meal. (I have yet to post about the food from Svetko’s kitchen)

Honey at the Debar Market

Although Macedonia is a small country is contains a variety of climatic zones suitable for growing a wide range of agricultural products. The southwest, covered with vineyards reminded me of Tuscany, cheese is produced in the alpine north- west, apples and plums are grown in the plains of the central area and the hardy white beans throughout. Beekeepers have decorated the country with their colorful blue hives, producing sweet gold in sunset hues, each with its own flavor profile. Many families supplement their food with large, well tended vegetable gardens. Some of it will be eaten fresh while the surplus will be dried, canned or pickled, to be eaten at home or sold. These jars of summertime are the most flavorful of all.

views from Mt. Korab on Albanian, Rep. of Macedonian border

I am not very meticulous about planning our family vacations and this year was no exception. We reserved flights to Sofia, Bulgaria with a rough idea of traveling west into the Republic of Macedonia, then perhaps south into Greece. In the past this was unheard as I loved leafing through travel guides and magazines dedicating hours to real or imaginary trips. But in our family, plans are pushed, moved and forgotten so it never resembles the original. After resisting for years, I just wing it-completely. And this of course can lead to some interesting adventures.

Views from Mt. Titov Vrv in Rep. of Macedonia

Our trips evolve unexpectedly and sometimes even we are surprised at where we find ourselves- on top of Mt. Olympus in late afternoon, eating white cheese in a shepherd’s hut, camping on a secluded beach in Greece or trying to reverse on a steep mountain road with cows blocking the way.

On one such day we arrived at a dilapidated ski village near the Albanian border. As English is not the lingua franca in these parts, sign language and body contortions led us to a ski chateau with its eerily empty halls and scary plumbing¹. But no matter, for 60 Euros we had rented the entire hotel in the heart of the Sar Mountain preserve, the advantage of traveling to a country off the tourist radar. Way off.

Sheep in western Rep. of Macedonia

On fairy tale slopes with Renaissance clouds, this wasn’t only an empty ski resort but the gateway into white cheese country. Exciting as this is, it seemed to me that I was the only one who thought this a worthy gastronomic destination. Here the sheep graze in alpine meadows of wild flowers and herbs, drinking spring water from glacier runoff. This sheep heaven diet affects the composition of its milk and the resulting flavor of the cheese- rich, creamy with a hint of wilderness. Known as sirene, it is a ubiquitous ingredient in Balkan cuisine and indispensible for making the famous shopska salad.

Sirene cheese from Rep. of Macedonia

The trail to Titov Vrv, the highest peak in the region would lead us directly into the path of the shepherds. We were to meet up with them again several times, on the Korab, Macedonia’s highest peak and then again in the remote villages near Galičnik.  Many of the shepherds we would meet were ethnic Albanians, who make up the second largest ethnicity in Macedonia. They live mainly on the western and north western areas of the country, closer to the Kosovo and Albanian borders. During the summer months the shepherds live and work in the mountains in simple wooden huts and return to their homes in the valley only in autumn.

Albanian Shepherd from Rep. of Macedonia

On the way to Galičnik we stopped by a shepherd’s hut, hesitating before continuing while the sheepdogs barked their warning. One of the shepherds was nearby milking the sheep and invited us to see the cheese making process, perhaps happy for a diversion on that rainy summer day. We wanted to repay them for their hospitality but they waved us away, smiling as we tried to thank them in a language they did not understand. Instead they offered us the product of their life and livelihood- the mountain cheese of Macedonia.

Making sirene cheese, near Galicnik, Rep. of Macedonia

Albanian Shepherd from Rep. of Macedonia

Where the cheese was being made

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How did I manage to drag my family to see mountain shepherds on our summer vacation? That’s easy; they were the ones dragging me to the tops of all the peaks, the shepherds were along the way. I was the last one up every single mountain.

¹Toilets, for example were not always bolted to the floor, which was hilariously, belly rolling funny for all those listening from the other side.

To me July is siesta weather but not for our boys who have turned our house into a train station. It is what Israelis call balagan, chaos, but one made up of childhood dreams, laughter and pillow fights. Between sleepovers and lemonade stands, this month has passed so fast…. too fast, and it’s a bit sad.

It is impossible to hide from summer indoors, in front of machines that blow out cool industrial air. The boys will not allow this. We visited local markets in Akko and Haifa, collected eggs in the northern border village of Shtula and explored the ruins of Caesariea. But nothing epitomizes the season more than summer’s ambrosial delights: nectarines, figs, grapes, lychee, plums… sweet extravagance.

But still the heat has been a clinging nuisance that can’t be shaken off and I am ready to leave.  Friday we fly out. The Western Balkans are not very much cooler than Israel but if you travel to higher elevations, which we intend to do, I hope I will feel the first cool breeze in months.

This will be my last post for the last couple weeks, hop over to Flavors of Israel where I have written weekly articles for when I am away.

Update:  I finally have my camera back after almost a month at the shop. Not everything could be fixed but at least it is usable and ready for our trip. I also bought my first macro lens, a 50mm Sigma which I am going to have fun using.   How did I manage an entire month without my beloved camera? Thank goodness for friends who leant me theirs.

There are lots of ways to keep the evil spirits away. In Israel you can buy a decorative evil eye pendant or a five fingered hamsa for protection. Another way is to keep a rue plant nearby, an ancient medicinal and culinary herb that some believe possesses magical powers. For five shekels a seedling, it can do no harm to try.

It is not a localized belief either, but one that can be found in one form or another from the United States, across Europe and into Yemen. However, unlike pendants and amulets, there is some truth to rue’s ability to keep people safe. Perhaps it does not repel evil spirits, but it does a fine job at keeping away nasty biting insects such as fleas and malaria infested mosquitoes.  Even today, more people die from these animals than any other.

If a family garden was filled with heavy scented rue, perhaps they had a better chance of surviving deadly outbreaks of the disease. Over time, it acquired mystical qualities and became the guardian of the home.  This belief is still retained in its Arabic name, Pejan from the words spirit within, indicating its usefulness in repelling everything from spirits, ghosts and the occasional witch. At least that’s my hypothesis to how rue obtained its reputation.

Although rue grows wild in many parts of the world there are few people who still use it in their cooking. Take one whiff of its pungent smell and it’s instantly clear why. Too much rue adds an unpleasant bitterness to dishes and there are some who have adverse reactions to it (besides the scrunched nose).

This is why I was surprised when I saw our neighbor, a Yemenite widow, with a bunch of freshly picked rue in her hands.  Happy to converse to pass the long afternoon, she told me that she doesn’t use it to ward off the spirits, but has it for breakfast.

“I chop a few leaves, mix it with yogurt and eat it with salad and lachooch {a yemenite flat bread}.”

Indeed one of the few groups who continue to use rue are the Yemenite and Ethiopians, whose cuisine’s share the love of strong flavors. The Druze of living in the Carmel Mountains also add this herb to cured black olives.  In the past Europeans were known to use it in stews and salads but it has now become outdated. Today it is sold mainly as ornamentals and seldom found at the markets. Those who use it grow their own.

As my neighbor knew, rue is best eaten with an acidic substance, such as yogurt or vinegar, which offsets its bitterness. Even prepared this way, only small amounts should be consumed as it is known to contain powerful therapeutics, including alkaloids and furanocoumarins. It should be noted that rue should not be used topically as its oil reacts with UV rays and causes blistering. These substances can be harmful in large doses.

References:

Field trials on the repellent activity of four plant products against mainly Mansonia population in western Ethiopia

Guide to Medicinal Plants in Israel, Nissim Krispil (Hebrew)