A letter on the occasion of the fifth anniversary of Kalavojna, February 2001

Author: Franko Lukež

Prof. dr. sc. Sergio Cesar, instructor
UNSO - United Nations Sommeliers Organization
NORTH POLE

Pola, il 8 marzo 2016
 The original letter is in the Italian language (trans. note)

Caro Sergio,

I’m incredibly glad that you reached out again after a long time because every contact with you takes me back to my youth and reminds me of those unforgettable days when we enjoyed good wine, good food and good company.

I’m glad that your health is good and that you’re still in the “old business”, and that you’re unveiling the mysteries of wine to the inhabitants of the North Pole. Who would have thought 20 years ago that climate change and global warming would bring about the changes we are witnessing today and that grapevines would thrive even in those parts of the world. How weird!

I hope you’ll forgive me for the delayed response. I could have written to you sooner, but I was waiting for the 20th anniversary celebration of “Kalavojna” to pass before finally writing to you.
The celebration was held at the “Grand hotel de la Ville” in Pula, on the Olive island (it used to be the site of the Uljanik shipyard). The celebration was unforgettable (and we’ve been mentioning you often!), but it’s like this every five years whenever the old crew meets. Unfortunately, over the last ten years, we stopped celebrating the founding of “Kalavojna” every year– we try to meet every five years now. The reason for this might be that a lot of members don’t live in Istria anymore, a lot of them have stopped drinking wine, some are members of associations whose goals do not match ours, there’s disharmony between new and old members (there’s more than 200 of us now), and some of them are not showing up because their families don’t let them. But still, every five years most of the members from the first generation show up, and a lot of new ones as well.

This year it was especially festive. The owner of the “Grand hotel de la ville”, Sonja Perić (once the owner of “Valsabbion” in Pješčana Uvala), arranged the same menu we had back in 2001, which had also motivated the old members to remember the old, now forgotten flavors. Here, the 'Food Safety Offices' are incredibly strict, so the food that passes their tests has no taste at all.

Consumers of food produced in the traditional way (the way it was done before we joined the EU) are obliged to pay huge taxes which makes that kind of food (and wine!) almost unavailable due to its expensive price. Of course, some of us like to indulge in such expenses to remind our taste buds, even if just for a while, of how good the food was before. The younger members call us nostalgic. What can you say?

There are very few places where you can eat like before. I am glad that the owners of such places are mostly the old members of “Kalavojna”, or their children. Marino Markežić and Rino Prelac own about ten of such restaurants in the Buje region, Robi Matošević owns some restaurants in the Lim Channel, Sergio Jugovac owned two of such restaurants but lost his license due to being caught not paying taxes at the restaurant of the former “Maestral” hotel he was leasing. The world-renowned, traditional cuisine is also served in the restaurants of the Brijuni Archipelago, owned by the Matić family. However, Brijuni have become a hotspot for the global jet set, making it inaccessible to ordinary mortals.

To be fair, when Sandro Matić is not around, we sometimes get invited to Brijuni by the old Veljko and, less often by Franko, and we gather there and eat like we did in the old days. The rest of the former caterers have adapted to the new trends; Dule Černjul, for instance, prepares food for all the marinas on the Adriatic at the former “Vela Nera”. Well, not all, because the marinas that used to belong to ACI won’t take food from Dule. His food & beverage manager was Darko Kvaranta, but rumor has it that they had a beef (you remember – they were inseparable!). I’m not even sure about the involvement of the current manager of that nautical chain Denis Ivošević in this story (He was the manager of the Nautical Center Novigrad until 2010). He’s also been into making traditional food recently.

Loris Knapić (he was always late to our gatherings) is now the head chef at the Plomin Power Plant Museum (which also includes the former Raša mine). Those are the quirky restaurants; I've been told they aren't even properly lit, and the waiters serve food with helmets that have lamps attached thereto. I don’t like that, and I never go there. Boris Hrast developed a new line about ten years ago, specializing in the nutrition for athletes, called “Rovesport” (you remember, he was always torn between hospitality and sports).

A lot of members from the first “Kalavojna” team have retired, as they say, by the force of law. They actually assumed various positions when the Istria Euroregion was founded. Allegedly all of them were appointed by the academician Jakovčić (he’s currently the honorary president of the Enological Academy in Brijuni, and lives in Brussels). Since political parties were in decline at the time, the mischievous Jakovčić picked most of the “Kalavojna” members loyal to him for key positions within the newly established Euroregion: Dorijan Kranjec was head of the Agriculture Commission, Aldo Dobrovac took care of environmental protection, Walter Mrakovčić was in charge of construction, Edi Maružin handled culture, Ranko Borovečki was responsible for banking, and Željko Burić headed spatial planning and landscape architecture. It turned out not to be the best solution (after all, these were the first steps of the Euroregion), so most of them retired comfortably and are now doing various things. Sometimes, Walter, Pino Živolić (who earned a lot of money in Piraeus as the main manager of the port), and I visit Burić in Kurile, but it’s not the same anymore! Burić has become an orthodox vegetarian, just like Šumonja (who runs the Gallery of Young Artists in Kanfanar), they don’t drink alcohol or smoke – though the neighbors say they drink and smoke secretly when they’re alone. Aldo sings with Edi in the Gustafi band, and when they perform around Rovinj, Dario Činić joins them – until Sandro Rudan shows up (with a whip) and drives them all off.

The old winemakers are still around: Degrassi, Kozlović, and Matošević. Moreno mostly exports his wines to France, Chile, and (less frequently) to South Africa; Franko’s place is constantly visited by the Italians (mostly from Tuscany and Piedmont), but the largest production still belongs to Dr. Matošević. After he resigned as the Minister of Vineyards and Winemaking in Croatia in 2008 (back when Marino Brečević was the Istrian County Prefect), he expanded his estate in Krunčići, made a deal with his namesakes – Verica and Marino, bought and perfected French wine production software, and now he's making wonders. He still doesn’t have his own vineyards, but not a year goes by without him receiving some international wine recognition awards. Thanks to this, he exports his wines all over the world. ("What connects and unites us?" – ask voices in the background of the TV commercial. "The wines Matošević" – respond people of all colors from every continent. I think this is where a folk song and the old “Benetton” ad got stolen from – but I guess that’s the curse of globalization.)

Marino handles his distribution in Europe, while Vesna takes care of both Americas. In case you’ve forgotten, this is Vesna Ivanović (she was always laughing in the course), who is now a serious businesswoman, married to a winemaker (they met in Reims), and living in San Francisco, California (you’ll remember, Napa Valley!). The guy is really funny (he’s been to a couple of “Kalavojna” events), but he's a good winemaker and a bit of a prankster (he calls Vesna La Grand Dame).

Daniela Saina opened a health food café in the city center (where the “Activa Travel” tourist agency used to be). It was all done in a hurry (back when Marino Brečević was the Istrian County Prefect), and, spontaneous as she is, she named the place “Preko puta Mađara” (“Across the Hungarians”).

From the first generation, I can also mention Damir Cukon (he failed your exam twice), who is now the owner of “Destillerie istriane” and produces brandies with medicinal herbs; Fabio Jeličić is an inspector at the Municipality and is slowly climbing the hierarchical ladder; Adriano Putinja runs rural tourism in Gračašćina (his guided tastings are famous, like: cottage cheese and Pinot Gris, or wild boar and Malvasia Barrique); Sandi Paris is a professor of decanting at the Enological Academy; Robert Marini and Denis Vugrin also work at the Academy. Marini manages the library because his doctors recommended a less stressful job, while Denis runs the student canteen (called “Decanter”, of course!).

I’m proud to say “Kalavojna” has already published 23 books (which are also included in the primary literature used at the Academy). The first one was “Sto dvadeset godina pulskih oštarija” (One Hundred and Twenty Years of Pula’s Taverns) (published in May 2001), and it was based on a series of articles I published in Glas Istre back in the last century. Veljko and I came up with the idea casually, on the fly (though we did have a bottle of Roederer Crystal Brut 1984) at “Valsabbion” while saying goodbye to the year 2000. After that, we published more books by various authors. The latest one (just in time for this week) is the monograph Kalavojna 1996 - 2016. People really like it, although some think that Predrag Spasojević (who designed it) probably shouldn’t have put himself on the cover. Some don’t mind, but they take issue with the photos of his family on the cover—picking grapes. Who can please everyone?!

Veljko Ostojić and Branko Curić came straight to the party from America. Veljko now works for McDonald's, or rather, its European subsidiary “Slow Mac”. Back when he was the Minister of Tourism in Croatia, he initiated the development of a series of small eateries offering panini with seafood dishes (patties made from octopus, cuttlefish, various seaweeds, etc.) along with the obligatory glass of wine. When, ten years ago, they started making baby wine (with minimal alcohol content – recommended for children and recovering alcoholics), these spots became family hangouts. With the collapse of the global system of intensive livestock farming—thanks to the mad cow disease - McDonald's faced a downturn, so they quickly bought up all such eateries in Europe and brought them under their wing. Of course, they also took Veljko with them (they’ll buy us all!).

Branko owns a travel agency in New York. He made a name for himself about ten years ago as the representative of the Croatian National Tourist Board in the U.S., when he started sending Americans to Istria for the “Pleasant Gathering”. When Veljko stepped back from his ministerial position, people started criticizing him for focusing the air bridge solely on Istria, so he started his own agency, “Eastra”, and continued doing the same thing, but privately. The packages are mostly bought by families with young children, so as soon as they land at Pula airport, everyone goes their separate ways. The women learn to cook maneštra, fuži, and brodet, the men tour wine cellars, play bocce, briškula, trešete, and mora đaponeze, while the kids play hide and seek, tag, and pljočka, and in the evenings, they play penjeva. With Americans, there’s always something new to be amazed at!

But the real marvel is the old Drago Orlić. He lives on the edge of the big hotel complexes, on the outskirts of Poreč (it used to be the village of Musalež). Surrounded by entertainment factories, he’s desperately fighting with the authorities to keep them from demolishing his house (even though some Chileans are offering him a fortune). He raises pigs and chickens, and he’s the only one in the world making a special type of sour wine (called ciknuto). He also organizes tastings, accompanied by lectures, under the title “Iera una volta”. Tourists don’t quite understand “Iera una volta”, so unfortunately, they only visit him once (una volta). When I told him I’d be writing to you, he gave me some čvarci to send to you—because he remembers you’ve always liked them. What a character! In summary, caro Sergio, that’s about it!

Send my warm regards to all of you (wherever you may be), and I’ll be in touch in five years, if not before.
You are always fondly remembered,
Franko Lukež