Pigs, Cows, Hens and Trahana
My grandparents live in a small Bulgarian village and they have very big hearts. Their eyes are never filled with hatred, because their souls are pure. They both find a good word for everyone, even if they are hurt or disappointed. They have never wanted to be rich, because we are their greatest wealth- their children and grandchildren. There are a lot of happy moments in my childhood that I have spent with my grandparents.
Most grandmothers have a lot of love in their souls, but my grandmother certainly has even more recipes in her head.
One of my favorite breakfasts that my grandmother makes is trahana. The Bulgarian trahana is one of the most delicious Bulgarian soups anyone can taste. It can be used as sauce, soaked with toasted bread and garnished with cheese and butter. When preparing the trahana, my grandmother uses an herb called trahanovo. It gives the specific flavor and aroma of the dish and enhances the fermentation of the dough. There are different variants of trahana recipes across Bulgaria. My grandmother prepares it with flour, zucchini, red peppers, hot peppers, yeast and several slices of old bread. Even if it does not sound appetizing, it’s the breakfast that I used love as a child and, most importantly, which I still do.
Every winter vacation my mom and dad left me at my grandparents’ house while they worked. During the cold, winter days, when school was off and my peers were asleep, I got up every morning at 6:00 am and I eagerly expected my parents to leave me at my grandparents’ house, because then my adventure started.
Every morning after I knocked on their door at around 7:00 am, the day for all of us became happier. Every morning of my winter break started with my grandparents’ cold room. Just as the old wood-burning stove had cooled overnight, grandpa was in a hurry to light it up again. Grandma went to the barn to milk the four cows she had and to feed the newborn baby calf. What remained of the milk, my grandma boiled and gave it to me and my grandfather. Then she threw some grain to the hens and some mash to the pigs.
Along with my grandmother, my grandfather and I led the cows in front of the house in order for them to join the group of cows of the village cowherd who led them to the meadows around the village. Once the cows went on their way, we went back to the warm house, we sat around the kitchen table and waited for our grandmother to give us breakfast.
I was 8 years old in 2006 and I was very hungry one December morning. So hungry that I had no patience to knock on my grandparents’ door, and to ask my grandmother to cook trahana with baked bread and cheese. Once the heavy, wooden door of their cute little house opened, I saw them wearing their funny knitted bed-nights. I laughed a bit, and then we all started doing our morning ritual.
This morning when grandma went to milk the cows, I went with her because I wanted to play with the newborn baby calf. It was so hungry and impatient that it started to suck my fingers hoping to get some milk. Similar to the baby calf, I was also very hungry so I asked my grandmother to prepare my favorite trahana for breakfast. Immediately after the calf let go of my fingers, I went to my grandfather to help him lead the cows in front of the house so that they could go on their daily journey. After that, we entered the cozy little house again. Fortunately, my grandmother had listened to my request and several cups of warm trahana were waiting for us.
I still remember the flavor and the taste of that breakfast. Its taste was a spicy and sour. In addition to the traditional trahana ingredients, my grandmother also always add some home-made cheese, which melted and gave the dish an amazingly smooth texture. In order to make it perfect, I added one baked slice of bread to my serving because it would give my trahana the finishing touch it needed.
I am a student now and I wear coats and shirts, but I will never forget what made me happy as a child.
After breakfast, I decided to lay down for a while and watch a cartoon. I was interrupted by my grandfather who broke into the room, saying that the pig had started giving birth. I got up from the bed, put on my rubber galoshes and I went to the barn. There I saw the enormous pig lying on one side. I saw the tears of joy and pain in her big, brown eyes. She had contractions. In several minutes she gave birth to her first baby. I took it, wiped it with a wet towel, and put it close to her chest. Several minutes later, the second baby pig appeared. So did the third and the fourth. There were ten in total. I was very happy and I couldn’t stop cuddling with the little pigs.
I am a student now and I wear coats and shirts, but I will never forget what made me happy as a child. Even now when my grandparents have a newborn baby calf, I let it suck my fingers. I will never forget my childhood experiences that I had in my grandparents’ house. When I think of those moments that have made me feel happy as a child, I become very emotional and my heart starts filling with love and nostalgia. I’m not ashamed to say that I have played with cows, pigs and hens and that this have made me extremely happy as a child. Now, when I go to my grandparents’ house, I knock on the same old door again. I still ask my grandmother to make trahana and I eat it with pleasure because it reminds me of one good childhood full of happines
