When I was a kid growing up in Toronto, my Baka Ljuba always had a garden.
There was nothing sweeter than walking through it and getting my hands dirty. I'll never forget the perfectly groomed rows of soil, curious about what would come out of them. When I would ask her what was planted there, she knew exactly without labels, without hesitation.
I remember smelling the sweet roses off to the side, mostly pink and yellow, and seeing the little sprouts starting to push through the soil. Watching my nephews enjoy her garden after she left earth was beautiful.
As the summer progressed and the sun got stronger, the garden began to flourish and fill out.
My Baka would be out there picking weeds, tending to everything she planted, and making sure every corner of the garden was cared for. She used to tell us that she talked to the plants every day and that's how they got to be so big and beautiful.
As the garden started to fill out, my Baka would be going through, picking all the weeds, and we'd get there and run to her, throwing ourselves into her arms, saying, "Hi Bako!" in our sweet little voices. I can still hear my own voice in my head.
I'll never forget her BIG warm hugs, the way she held us tight. She was nonetheless a BIG Balkan woman! It was a real hug, none of that side hug stuff. I'll never forget it.
After that, we'd walk through the garden and pick something to eat. My favourite was always the green onion. It was always a surprise to see how big the white bulb would be coming out of the ground that was my favourite part.
We'd pull it straight out of the ground, peel the first layer of skin off, run it under the hose, and before taking a bite my Baka would pour a little salt on a plate for us to dip in! They were sweet, salty and nourishing.
Not much has changed, I still do it.
No pesticides. No chemicals. Just food grown with love, time, and energy.
It's something we forget about these days. We've forgotten the taste of real food. I'm here to remind you.
The kind of food that comes from someone's hands. The kind of food that takes patience. The kind of food that's grown with care and shared with the people you love.
When I started Spicy Balkan, I wanted to hold onto that feeling.
Most importantly, I wanted it to feel like home.
While working in the cannabis industry years ago, one of the brands I worked on collaborated with Marc Sirus on several creative projects. I messaged him.
I knew I needed Marc's help. There was no one else I considered.
I believe people cross paths for a reason, and it felt meant to be that our paths had already crossed. I reached out, shared my vision, and from there everything fell into place.
Most importantly, I trust him with my brand. And if you're a Balkan woman, you know that's saying a lot. Trust isn't given easily.
Every time I look at my product, I see my Baka's garden. I see love.
And that's exactly what I wanted Spicy Balkan to represent. Thanks Marc!
Marc Sirus
Street artist, typography specialist and self-taught graphic designer, Marc developed his passion for lettering through graffiti at an early age. Ever since, he has honed his skills as an artist and designer. From working in city spaces to commercial art, Marc continues to explore different aspects of typography and illustration. Blending traditional styles with modern aesthetics, his work at times results in striking anamorphic effects. Exploring a different genre of street art, Sirus has collaborated with international brands on murals and special projects around the country. Such projects include a historic mural on the Bell Centre for the Montreal Canadiens and special projects for brands such as Heineken, Vitaminwater and Lululemon.