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We never went to restaurants with our parents. That’s something no one in Topolcany even considered. My father used to say: ‘Why would you want to eat somewhere else, no one cooks as well as your mother.’ I’ve got a whole book of recipes from my mother.
Some years ago I sat down with her so that I could preserve her recipes for myself. Some recipes I have from Mrs. Weissová, who was friends with my mother until my mother died. Her cooking was practically the same as my mother’s, because that’s the way almost all Jewish households in Topolcany cooked.
I for example didn’t manage to get my mother’s recipe for fish with nuts in time. Mrs. Weissová gave me this recipe. What I didn’t learn was how to bake a barkhes, especially how to braid it.
The first time I sat in a car was when I was five. My mother’s cousin, who they shot along with his whole family in 1944 in Nemcice, was getting married. The wedding was in Piestany, and the whole family took a taxi to the wedding. I remember the taxi driver’s name. He was named Mr. Cerveny.
Because Topolcany is on the Prievidza – Nitra train tracks, we traveled mainly by train. For example to my mother’s brother’s place in Prievidza. We used to mainly buy textiles from him. Once my mother bought me cloth for a coat there. That was the last coat that I got before the war.
We also used to by train to Malé Bielice for recreation. There was this small spa there, just for the day, without accommodations. There I learned to swim in this tiny pool. Once a year we’d travel to Dolné Otrokovce. By train of course, to the nearest train station. Dolné Otrokovce isn’t on the train tracks. There a coach would be waiting for us, which would take us where we were going.
My brother Andrej became a typesetter by trade. When the deportations began, he was already 20. Each time there was a sweep being done in Topolcany, they would come for him. He ended up in Sered [25] for six or seven weeks. They took him there on one of the first transports. To this day I don’t know how my mother managed to get him out of there. He returned to Topolcany, and they would come for him during every transport.
They used to come for the rest of us almost every week as well. It was horribly nerve-wracking. Our mother was constantly running around and arranging postponement of deportation. We had our rucksacks packed the whole time.
I had a smaller one, because I was only 13 at the time, and the others had bigger ones. Our mother had an exception because we owned some fields, because according to the exception she was farming on them.
All in all, I can say that she was constantly working on it, and our family has her to thank for its survival. At that time my father was almost 70, and a person as old as that couldn’t get up to much at that time, under that horrible stress.
Some years ago I sat down with her so that I could preserve her recipes for myself. Some recipes I have from Mrs. Weissová, who was friends with my mother until my mother died. Her cooking was practically the same as my mother’s, because that’s the way almost all Jewish households in Topolcany cooked.
I for example didn’t manage to get my mother’s recipe for fish with nuts in time. Mrs. Weissová gave me this recipe. What I didn’t learn was how to bake a barkhes, especially how to braid it.
The first time I sat in a car was when I was five. My mother’s cousin, who they shot along with his whole family in 1944 in Nemcice, was getting married. The wedding was in Piestany, and the whole family took a taxi to the wedding. I remember the taxi driver’s name. He was named Mr. Cerveny.
Because Topolcany is on the Prievidza – Nitra train tracks, we traveled mainly by train. For example to my mother’s brother’s place in Prievidza. We used to mainly buy textiles from him. Once my mother bought me cloth for a coat there. That was the last coat that I got before the war.
We also used to by train to Malé Bielice for recreation. There was this small spa there, just for the day, without accommodations. There I learned to swim in this tiny pool. Once a year we’d travel to Dolné Otrokovce. By train of course, to the nearest train station. Dolné Otrokovce isn’t on the train tracks. There a coach would be waiting for us, which would take us where we were going.
My brother Andrej became a typesetter by trade. When the deportations began, he was already 20. Each time there was a sweep being done in Topolcany, they would come for him. He ended up in Sered [25] for six or seven weeks. They took him there on one of the first transports. To this day I don’t know how my mother managed to get him out of there. He returned to Topolcany, and they would come for him during every transport.
They used to come for the rest of us almost every week as well. It was horribly nerve-wracking. Our mother was constantly running around and arranging postponement of deportation. We had our rucksacks packed the whole time.
I had a smaller one, because I was only 13 at the time, and the others had bigger ones. Our mother had an exception because we owned some fields, because according to the exception she was farming on them.
All in all, I can say that she was constantly working on it, and our family has her to thank for its survival. At that time my father was almost 70, and a person as old as that couldn’t get up to much at that time, under that horrible stress.
Location
Slovakia
Interview
Ruzena R.
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