Slovene Sunday - Knowing where to find a good Krof

Krofs, or krofi, are Slovene donuts, without holes. I presume they are fried; at any rate I know they are made with hot oil. Sometimes they have fruit or creme in the middle, and the most traditional ones have a topping of powdered sugar, or the tops have been dipped in chocolate.



My favorite were the ones called 'blazinicas', or 'pillows'. They were rectangular, and stuffed full of vanilla pudding. The best ones I'd found were from the Panda deli in Maribor, but you could find them in a few other places if you knew where to look. And I did.

During the last two months of my mission I was living in Maribor. There were six of us at the time - Elder Pierce, who had spent his whole mission in na Stajerskem, meaning in two months in the city of Celje and a year and a half in Maribor. He had only been to Ljubljana for missionary conferences and had never been able to explore the city; he admitted to me once that it kind of frightened him - he was used to the smaller-town atmosphere of the north. His companion at the time was Elder Hancey, who had only been in Slovenija for a month, all of it in Maribor. There was Sister Durham, who had lived in Kranj for a long time and knew that city backwards and forwards, but was mystified by Ljub, even though it was only a 15 minute bus ride away. With Sister Durham was Sister Cook, who had come at the same time as Elder Hancey, and had also spent her month only in Maribor.

And then there was me, who had lived in all five cities that were open to missionaries in Slovenija. I had started in Velenje, and subsequently moved to Celje, Ljubljana, Maribor, Kranj, back to Ljub, and them home to Maribor again. I was no stranger to any of those cities and felt right at home all over (except maybe Velenje). With me as my final companion was Elder Jones, who had spent his whole first year in Ljubljana, and only the month before had moved up to Maribor to be with me.

It was in 2000, probably November. There was going to be another of the monthly missionary conferences, and the missionaries from all over the country would be heading for Ljubljana. Though I was not the district leader in Maribor, I somehow convinced the others to go to Ljubljana a little early so I could look around for potentially my last time. We got up early and met at the Maribor train station that morning. The new Hitri Vlaki - Fast Trains - had just been introduced that September, so we probably took the Hiter Vlak down south, which accounted for an hour and a half or so.

When we alighted from the train in Ljub, at the wonderfully familiar yellow-brick train station, everyone was hungry. Elder Pierce knew there was a McDonald's in the train station, but people nixed his idea of fast food for breakfast. When someone else asked where we could eat then, and the other four complained that they didn't know anyplace in Ljubljana for a good breakfast, Elder Jones and I looked at each other and smiled.

"Will you trust us?" we asked the other four. "We know you're hungry - we all are - but will you trust us? It may be a bit of a walk." When the others agreed to follow where we led them - Ka-PWING! - we were off like a shot!

Crossing Trg Osvobodilne front, we practically ran down Miklosiceva about six blocks or so, until we got to Preseren's Square. Elder Jones and I stopped to make sure everyone was still following us, and when they caught up, we swung a right onto Chopova street. Past the shoe store, past the sport store, past another McDonald's. Elder Jones and I finally stopped in front of an optometrist's sign. Everyone caught up again and someone asked if we were headed to the Nama a little farther on that housed a grocery store. "No," I said, "we're here." Everyone else looked at the optometrist's sign skeptically. "Behind," I said, and lead the way into an inconspicuous alley. Back a ways, under an arch and to the left was a bakery, who's wares were still warm. The smell of fresh bread was enough to knock you over. I wanted to just inhale and inhale.

Everyone bought a little something for breakfast there, either a bun and some jogurt, or a hot pizza-thing. I got a roll with ham baked onto the top, and one of those good good pillow krofs that I loved.

"where shall we eat?" someone else asked, and Elder Jones took the lead this time, taking us up into the older part of Ljubljana, and along down a tight, crooked street called The Old Square, out past Levstikov Square, and across a large street to Zvezdarska street. I smiled when I realized where he was taking us - to an empty field, a park of some sort, where there was statuary on display. They were modern, and yellow and made of cement, and the statue-things kind of all resembled chairs, in a Dali painting. They were squiggled and odd, but you could sit on them like over-large, melting thrones. Everyone chose a statue, and sat down to eat their breakfasts. The sky was cloudy, which made the grass look greener, and it was just such a a perfect moment.

Everyone agreed that this - this out-of-the-way bakery, and the park with mooshy yellow cement chairs - was much better than sitting in McDonald's. "Thank you," they told us. "We're glad you two know this city so well."