NOVEMBER 29, 2018 // 7
CLOSE TO HOME
THE ART OF CELEBRATION
By DAVID CAMPICHE
FOR COAST WEEKEND
J
oy has a habit of unfurling like
ocean rain, perhaps a light mist or
perhaps a deluge. Or strong yellow
rays — sun motes, squeezing, as
they do, through cumulus. Or first
light tripping through thick cedar or
spruce, daintily.
Grab the moments quickly, because
happy times are often elusive. They
dapple and drip and dance seductively,
and fade as quickly as they arrive. They
come in many forms, often arriving
unannounced: a bird, a plane, a pure
unadulterated blaze. And then suddenly,
mysteriously, celebration is upon us.
A birthday
Recently, Fordinka Kanlic had a
birthday and threw a party, a celebration
for friends and family.
Fordinka is now … well, no matter
— but she packs gobs of energy into her
small wiry frame. God winks in wonder.
Is she an apparition? No, she is just a
tour de force.
For nearly two decades, she and her
husband, Ken Bendickson, have, nearly
singlehandedly, run an intimate Bos-
nian-themed restaurant called Drina
Daisy, on Commercial Street in Astoria.
It is bright and cheery and draws atten-
tion through the big glass windows to a
bright sign that proclaims a new adven-
ture — unpretentious ethnic food — and
to the orchids she grows and displays
wondrously.
Drina is the river that flows under an
ancient stone bridge through the heart of
an antique city in eastern Europe. Daisy
is Ken’s mother’s name. Fordinka comes
by way of Sarajevo, and a divided coun-
try once known as Yugoslavia.
Hard times
It comes as no surprise that Fordinka
was in the middle of a horrible conflict.
This is not a happy subject. In the early
1990s, brutal attacks by Serbian militia
devastated the region, arousing interna-
tional condemnation.
That is precisely the reason that her
birthday party was such a special and
unimpeded gathering. The gal knows
how to celebrate and deserves to. I insist
Fordinka Kanlic, right, and her friend Laurie
Anderson.
was a moment when natural happiness
overwhelmed the daily news, oppressive
as that news seems in 2018.
Live for today
DAVID CAMPICHE PHOTOS
The party in full swing at Drina Daisy.
on mentioning this event because it
struck me as unusual in the capacity to
surprise and please.
Of course, Fordinka cooked for
several days. She is very good at that:
preparation, presentation and service
(Ken serves). She works very hard but
finds solace and joy in the production of
her divine food.
This is her statement, hers alone.
She simply insists on pleasing people.
It reminds me of stumbling into Aunt
Mable’s Sunday farm dinner. You’re lost
on a back road in Kansas and knock on a
strange door and are then invited in, and,
lo and behold, you spend the next three
hours eating, surrounded by abundance
and cheer.
The gathering
Forty-some friends and a talented
pick-up band (Jeffery Reynolds, violin;
Richard Thomasian, guitar; Shelly Lor-
ing, flute; Larry Aldred, drums; and Dan
Golden, base) gathered. The food began
to play out like a trout on a line. Small
talk grew in intensity until it howled
like a storm. People began to dance.
And sing. More food arrived, staggering
under the weight of heavy platters, but
seemed to evaporate quickly. Sarma,
lamb, bowls of ripe fruit. Cheeses.
Goulash. Cabbage rolls. Fresh bread
and Belgian beer. And, oh, much more!
There is always more at Drina Daisy.
How happy can you be?
Strangers seemed to corral into pods
until the whole room was alive with talk,
and yes, a natural and unassuming brand
of joy. The band played on, marvelously,
jazz and swing draping the room like
a thick curtain. Wine and beer poured
from opaque bottles of glass. I believe
there was even a bit of fine whiskey. It
Fordinka circulated. Didn’t everyone
feel like her best friend? I did. I’m sure
I was. Ken held things steady, as he al-
ways does. And there is no such thing as
a short conversation with Ken. He seems
to know so much.
The point of all this is simple. I have
seldom had so much fun or seen so many
people have so much fun. People happily
engaged with each other: kids dancing
with adults, with each other, alone,
in pairs or mobs. The jazz ensemble,
getting loose, letting loose. Different
people at different tables singing along.
And, so it seemed, everything in harmo-
ny.
We don’t do this often enough.
Maybe it takes a woman from a foreign
country with strength and courage, who
has fought through fear and oppression
and stood on her own the way strong
women do today. And letting joy rip just
like that rain squall off the ocean.
I need more of this in my life, and I
think we all do.
Thank you, Fordinka. Let the band
play on. CW