“Orientals seem to grow stout because they are fond of their food and their food grows fond of them, and it and they elect to live together in a happy symbiosis.”
--From Rebecca West’s chapter on Macedonia in "Black Lamb & Grey Falcon, a Journey through Yugoslavia" (1941)
It is customary in the region to eat heartily. As a guest in other peoples homes, as I so often am, it is expected that I should eat what is put before me, even if I’m not hungry or have clearly eaten enough already. This Macedonian hospitality my Peace Corps friends and I sometimes jokingly referred to as “hostitality.”
Thus eating in Macedonia is not merely for gustation, but a sign of hospitality and for socializing. There is the food itself, and there are the rituals of consuming what, when. We have our customs in the US—kinds of food at the holidays and their order of eating. Yet the effort exerted in food preparation here (and most always by women) creates an expectation that the food will be eaten by friends and family. Whereas in my family we generally only cook for ourselves and would thank the cook for their effort, here it is practically an insult to do so, for cooking and eating well are a way of life, and nothing to be put on a pedestal and praised. Here one must eat. “Jadi, jadi!” (‘eat, eat!’), gracious hosts will shout.
The winter though brings more occasions and food than any other time of year, as the days are short, the weather formidable, and there seems to be an increase in the celebration of “saint’s days.” These are the multiple days per month which celebrate a certain Orthodox (and often Catholic or Christian) saint. This Monday was St. Kliment Ohridski day, the Monday before was St. Georgi (George) day, and so on. These saints’ names, however, are also those of many individuals here, and even the patron saints of certain families. Today is St. Nikola day, for example, in honor of St. Nicholas. The many Macedonians with his name or a variation of it (eg, Nikolina, for women) will consider this their “imen den”—‘name day.’ St. Nicholas is a particularly famous saint, however, and thus it is a bigger saint day, with many of my students telling me of plans for it; and I’ve been told that at least one city in the country (Štip) even considers him the town saint, marking the holiday with official celebrations. Regardless, saints' days may very well be celebrated by many people such as those who have his or her name, for Christian reasons, and/or if their family honors this saint as their patron saint.
When families celebrate a saint’s day for their patron saint they call it a “slava.” The most recent slava I attended was last week for St. George’s day. Upon arriving at the family’s house whose slava I attended, we paid our tribute—or “ater,” a Turkish word for honoring— to their patron saint by congratulating and wishing them well. In return, they welcomed us into their dining room. While St. George was the famous dragon slayer, slaying or butchering was cast aside for the day and the food served consisted of salads, vegetarian dishes (beans and potatoes), and fish. There was no refrain from indulgence, however, and beverages offered still included plenty of whisky, brandy, and wine. Conversation while grazing over the smorgasbord ensued until dessert was served and it was time to go, though there was no pressure to do this, even after being there for several hours.
But many other occasions will arise in the following month as Orthodox Christmas (January 7th) arrives and the several saint day and new year celebrations ensue. There are a remarkable number of such days, with unique customs and traditions accompanying them. They include the Old New Year (January 12th), St. John's day, and "Vodokrst." In rural Macedonia, bonfires are made and generally men celebrate around them with drinking, story-telling, games, and dancing. Yet throughout the Orthodox world, a remarkable tradition is that on Vodokrst-'water cross' day. Symbolically tied with the celebration of the New Year, a local priest throws a cross into a body of water and several men compete to retrieve it. Whoever does will have luck the year through. But while winter is tame in Macedonia and the water in rivers and lakes may be up in the 40s or 50s, the images broadcast on TV of such events in Russia and many other snow-covered countries, where men plunge into ice covered lakes, will send chills down ones spine!
Getting back to food, there are particular dishes for these holidays. In central Macedonia, where I lived some years ago, families will eat “pastrmajlija”—a delicious flat-bread dish baked with eggs and salted pork on top. On “Badnik,” or Christmas eve, the dinner is light in honor of Christ, and no meat or oil is consumed. Generally, the meal consists of beans, bread, and fish. However, on Christmas day itself, “Božik,” friends and families indulge again in an array of dishes.
On a final note, and in reflection of some of the other events I’ve attended recently, weddings (svadbi) have their own rituals when it comes to eating. While the food is more typical and not a huge part of the occasion—dancing and rejoicing are—they still serve plenty of it. Whereas the tradition of eating in Macedonia is usually characterized by friends and family grazing over a table of salads, finger-foods, meats, and cheeses, at weddings the food is there but the live music and dancing from the beginning of the event tend to cast food to the side and make conversation rather difficult. Indeed, weddings are a true celebration with dancing beginning shortly after guests arrive and lastly for several hours without much of a break. Further, the main course isn’t served for some time: At the most recent wedding I attended, which didn’t begin until 9pm, dinner wasn’t served until after midnight, and intermittent dancing was still going on until the cake was cut at 1am! Therefore, while there was plenty of food for the eating, it wasn’t the primary focus of the evening’s event.
Having recently married but not yet having had a svadba, I can even testify to my new family’s concern in ensuring enough food be present at the dinner following the civil ceremony. While only a dozen people attended our dinner, my mother-in-law had the restaurant prepare eight pounds of lamb that she had bought, in addition to the large salad platters, appetizers, and dishes of pork, beef, chicken, potatoes, and bread that we had requested ahead of time. Altogether, there was undoubtedly enough food to feed twice as many people as were present.
This is the relationship though between people here and their food—it’s a “symbiosis” and perhaps love affair that may border on excessive indulgence. But while they may know it is not always healthy, it is a large aspect of their customs and culture, and thus one which they would only most regrettably part with.
