Season one - Episode 2: Bratislava, Slovakia

We found the perfect café environment to experience our next celebratory date. Café and Cake in Every Country in Donna's ancestry homeland of Slovakia came from the Konditorei Kormuth coffee shop. It had an old country look and feel through an exquisite show of the wall hangings of portraits and art.

Our visit to Konditorei Kormuth was more than just enjoying delicious pastries—it was an experience that stirred our imagination. As we sat there, we found ourselves wondering what a simple family outing might have looked like if Donna’s family had remained in this country.

There was something about Bratislava that pulled at Donna, a quiet curiosity that went beyond our usual “Café and Cake” routine. So instead of lingering, we followed that feeling and set out to explore more of the city together.

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Donna didn’t set out to “find answers” when we planned our trip to Bratislava—at least not the kind you can neatly write down in a notebook. What she wanted was something harder to explain and, in many ways, more meaningful. She wanted to experience it. The food. The rhythm of daily life. The feel of the air. She wanted to stand somewhere—anywhere—in that country and look out across the countryside and wonder if even a small piece of it had somehow made its way into her own life, growing up in Slovak, Arkansas.
 
She knew going in that Bratislava wasn’t exactly where her family had come from. Their roots traced back to another part of Slovakia, though the exact village name has been lost to time. That uncertainty, rather than discouraging her, seemed to deepen the pull. It wasn’t about standing in the precise spot—it was about standing close enough to feel connected to something real.
 
What she did know about her grandparents, George Losak and Barbara Penick Losak, only added to that sense of mystery. They were both orphans, born in the mid-to-late 1800s during the time of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. Their heritage was Rusyn, their lives shaped by a region constantly shifting under political pressure and war. They spoke Czech, could read and write Russian, and practiced Russian Orthodox Christianity—a cultural blend that reflected the complexity of Eastern Europe at the time.
 
But records? Those are another story.
 
Donna has always believed that much of that history simply vanished—whether through the chaos of war, the indifference toward record-keeping among poor farming families, or the deliberate erasure that often follows conflict. In those days, lives like theirs weren’t documented in official ledgers. Births and deaths were often recorded only in family Bibles—if they were recorded at all.
 
And yet, even in the absence of documents, a story emerges.
 
They were farmers. People of the land. People who grew what they could, survived how they must, and eventually made a decision that would change everything: they left. Like so many others, they were driven by the instability of Eastern Europe—wars, economic hardship, and limited opportunity. They came to America not with certainty, but with hope.
 
Their journey likely began in Pennsylvania, where many immigrants first settled, before word spread of land opportunities further south. Through what was essentially a land grant program, they made their way to Arkansas, where they carved out a life in a small farming community that would eventually be known as Slovak, Arkansas.
 
That’s where Donna’s story begins to feel more tangible.
 
Her father, Alex—born in 1904 after the family arrived in the United States—was the youngest of a large family, twelve or thirteen children in all. Some had been born in the old country. Some never made it to adulthood. A few are buried in the Slovak Orthodox Cemetery; quiet markers of a journey that didn’t end the way it was planned.
 Donna had various memories of family members that lived near and far away from her raising in Slovak, Arkansas.
  

There was her Aunt Julia, (also called Lola), who never married and lived just down the road, a constant presence. Aunt Marie, whose story carried a bit more mystery and family lore, running off with a married man, and eventually returning to Pennsylvania. And Aunt Ann, whose life stretched across marriages, loss, and years spent far from Arkansas.

Each story, incomplete on its own, forms part of a larger picture—one that Donna has carried with her not as a fixed history, but as a collection of questions.

And that’s why Bratislava mattered.

Not because it held all the answers, but because it held the possibility of connection—to a place, a people, and a past that, while fragmented, is still very much alive in the present.
 
Food for Thought: Slovakia
When we spent the day in Bratislava, we decided to experience the city the best way we knew how—through its food. What started as a simple perusing of menu’s turned into our own little food tour, even sampling some traditional Slovak dishes and discovering the flavors that define this region.
 
One thing became clear quickly: Slovak cuisine is hearty and built for the seasons. Many of the dishes one could encounter were rooted in simple, filling ingredients like potatoes, cabbage, pork, and cheese—foods designed to carry people through both hot summers and cold winters.
 
The highlight of any Slovakian tasting, without question, is Halušky, Slovakia’s national dish. It looked like a comforting bowl of rustic goodness—soft potato dumplings topped with creamy Bryndza cheese, bits of bacon, and a sprinkle of herbs. It reminded us of some Italian gnocchi, but heartier and more textured, with a flavor all its own.
 
As we moved from one stop to another, we realized this wasn’t just about tasting food—it was about understanding the culture. Each restaurant menu told a story of tradition, resilience, and pride. By the end of the day, even though we ate very little—we felt like we had truly experienced Bratislava in the most memorable way possible.

The traditional drink to eat with a Slovakian meal was —a drink called žinčica, made from sheep’s milk whey. It was something I wanted to try if I would have had more time, but alas, we had to get back to the river boat.  Plus, I knew that the river boat evening menu often had a local cuisine choice.  Maybe they had this drink on the menu?  But, they did not.

One more thing about Bratislava, Slovakia
Bratislava is the only national capital that borders two other countries, Austria and Hungary. The Slovakian capital is filled with carefully restored baroque city palaces and community squares filled with tall mature trees creating a cool and comfortable stroll through the town. The Little Carpathians form mountain ridges to the north and the enormous hrad, or castle, perches 300 feet above the Danube, framing the city in a picturesque setting. Below the castle, the Old Town boasts elegant mansions, art nouveau houses and large areas to walk the city and its urban parks.. Eleven Hungarian kings and eight queens were crowned in St. Martin's Cathedral. Today St. Martin's is a concert hall that plays a central role in the city's musical and cultural offerings.

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