There is a story going around in our family, it comes from the 17th century. Our ancestors moved by carriage from the north side of High Tatras to the south land of Bekesska Csaba, the land mainly colonized by Slovak community of immigrants. We don’t have all their names unfortunately. The road with a vision of a new life was long, difficult and also tragic. The father of the family died on the way, only a widow with her children arrived to Bekesska Csaba. In the new city, she became friends with one Slovak called Surin and later married him. The story of our family begins here!

In earlier years of 20th century the family of Surin owned a butcher shop on the main square in Bekesska Csaba.Butcher Andras was a honored citizen and a father of a small Bandur, cousin anfriend of Macek. Uncle Andras knew well his easy going / bohem brother Matej and decided to help the family. Every morning, Andras prepared a big sandwich for Macek and Macek came to help every day after school to Andras butcher shop. Matej, the father of Macek was easy going chap and liked adventures.He decided to move the family again. Macek suffered because he didn’t want to leave the rest of the family and of course the loved Andras and Bandur.
He shortly settled in Nove Zamky, Czechoslovakia, 340 km away. But the strong relationship was not touched, despite the distance.Back in time it took one day to travel between Nove Zamky and Bekesska Csaba.

The craft of butchery kept them always together. Macek often organized trips to Bekesska Csaba. The main attractionof the trip was preparation of well-known sausage from Csaba. Sausages were prepared in a cosy garden kitchen, made from the heart with the passion. For the family it was a treasure and everyone remembered the taste!

When I was 30 our family was again reunited with Bandur, but without Macek. He sadly passed away one year before my birth. Bandur dedicated his time for us and the famous sausages.We all remember his kindness and unforgettable fluid um. We looked at him at every occasion and tried to touch him as we wanted to feel Macek, with whom we wanted to meet but it was not possible. We promised to meet in one year and repeat this fantastic day with him.

I am 31 and I am coming back to Bekesska Csaba as promised. This time on black shirt, knowing the era of Slovaks from the South came to its end. Bandur, this gentle soul, passed away. Many of we met, told me I was like Macek. And there I understood, the feeling I wanted to steal from Bandur is in my blood. It is in me, and therefore I want to do something what we all love and I believe a delight for their souls up there.

Bandur
Macek

Last memory on butchery