Nostalgičen jesenski posladek A nostalgic autumn dessert

Iz kostanja, ki smo ga zadnjič nabrali, sem naslednji dan naredila preprosto sladico. Kuhane kostanje sem prelila z ohlajeno čežano iz jabolk, ki sem jim med kuhanjem dodajala cimet, sladkor, obilo popra (namenoma) in na koncu, ko sem jo odstavila, vanjo vmešala še stopljeno maslo.
 
Ob lupljenju kostanja, ki je vedno dolgotrajno in mukotrpno delo, sem se spomnila na tretji razred osnovne šole. Takrat sem bila naročena na Kurirčka, mesečno revijo za otroke, ki je vsakič ponujala tudi en recept.
 
Zdaj me je zagrabila nostalgija in sem malo pobrskala po spletu, da bi našla kakšno povezavo, ki bi jo prilepila za tiste, ki te revije ne poznate, in da bi si malce osvežila spomin, pa o njej ni ne duha ne sluha, kot da ne bi obstajala, ne pozna je niti Wikipedija, ki kakor pozna vse. Razočarana.
 
No, ker sem trmasta, mi je uspelo izbrskati vsaj to, da je izhajala od leta '61, čez 30 let pa so jo, tako sem jaz razbrala, preimenovali v Kekca (lik, ki ga imam zelo rada, da ne bo pomote, a zgodovina slednje revije, tako berem, se očitno začne šele leta '91, brez omembe predhodnika).
 
Zakaj že? Kaj je bilo narobe s tistim imenom? Eh, saj vem, zakaj, zato, ker se pri nas vedno vse na juriš izbriše, maščevalno in privoščljivo, tudi dobre stvari, povzroči nove krivice in bedarije namesto samo popravi stare in izboljša obstoječe stanje, začne se zidati na novo, prenagljeno in plehko, kimajoče in po tujem zgledu, brez razmisleka in hrbtenice, brez temeljev, korenin in trohice ponosa.
 
Kakorkoli, tisto leto sem si pogumno zadala nalogo, da bom naredila prav vse jedi po receptih iz te revije. V oktobrski številki je bil takrat napotek za kostanjevo torto in ker se je približeval očijev rojstni dan, je padla odločitev: torta bo zanj.
 
Za lupljenje na tone kuhanega kostanja sem takrat vpregla vse družinske člane in lupili smo neskončno dolgo časa, lupili in lupili, na koncu pa mi torta, priznam, kar malo pričakovano, niti všeč ni bila. Ja, bu-hu, take grozne stvari so nas otroke doletele, če smo brali Kurirčka in podobne revije.
 
Tej sladici zato zdaj uporniško dajem ime jesenski kurirček in na sliki zgoraj je njih četica.

I made a simple dessert out of the chestnuts we had picked the other day. I cooked chestnuts and covered them with cooled čežana. It is a traditional Slovenian dish, an apple puree; I boiled chopped apples with a little water, meanwhile adding cinnamon, sugar, lots of pepper (intentionally) and at the end, when I stopped cooking it, stirred melted butter in.
 
While pealing chestnuts, which is always a hard and tedious work, I remembered my third year of primary school, when I was subscribed to a monthly magazine for children called Kurirček [=Little Courier] with a recipe in each.

Writing about this, I feel quite nostalgic, so I browsed the net to find a link, for those who don’t know the magazine and for me to refresh a memory, but there is no sign of it, just like it didn’t exist, not even on Wikipedia that knows like everything. Disappointed.

Well, since I am a stubborn girl I managed to dig out at least an information that it was published from ’61 on, but after 30 years it was, as I understood, renamed into Kekec (I like this character a lot, don't get me wrong, but the history of the Kekec magazine starts, as I read, obviously only in ’91, without mentioning its forerunner).

Why is that? What was wrong with that name? Eh, I know why, of course, because that year we got our independence together with so called better regime, capitalism (hm?), and our national habit is that we always delete everything old in an onrush way, whether good or bad, making new injustices and foolishness instead of just repairing old ones and improve things; we do it with a revenge, we start anew, all hasty and superficial, nodding and copying foreign models, without reflection and a spine, without foundations, roots and without a shred of pride.

Kakorkoli, that year back then I put myself on a mission to make every single recipe in that magazine. In the October issue there was a recipe for a chestnut cake and since my dad’s birthday had been approaching I made a decision: the cake is for him.

I mobilized all family members to help me pealing tons of cooked chestnuts, we pealed and pealed for ever and at the end, I admit, it was a bit expected, I didn’t even like the cake very much. Yes, boo-hoo, that sort of horrible stuff happened to us children, if we read the Kurirček and similar magazines in those times.

That is why I rebelliously name this dessert little autumn courier and there’s a troop of them in the picture above.