Hungarian rhapsodising...

Wonderful people, the Hungarians. Some of them just ooze culture. Music, especially. Two delightful young men of my acquaintance are the grandsons of the renowned composer Gyorgy Ranki, whose centenary was celebrated a couple of years ago at the Budapest Opera. The Hungarian national drink is palinka (emphasis on the first vowel), a spirit-based eyebrow lifter made with fruit. The one I like best – I haven't tried them all, admittedly – is the palinka vilmos, a pear-tinged elixir, named for the William pear. The Hungarians, given their often cruel history – and, indeed, the present political situation there isn't wonderful – occasionally indulge in getting a bit Brahms and Liszt, only the latter being a Hungarian, of course. In their honour – and to suck up to my friends – I thought I might invent a cocktail that would befit their status.
For the time being I'll call it Just William. Here's what you do...

Ingredients:
3 fl oz Vilmos Palinka
1 fl oz vodka
1 fl oz Grand Marnier
4 very ripe pears
2 fl oz pear nectar or good pear jiuce
Juice of 1 lime

Method:
Peel and core pears and place in blender
Add pear nectar then liquidise
Sieve into large jug
Add the other ingredients
Pour as much as will allow into cocktail shaker containing 4 lumps of ice
Shake well & serve in glasses with a slice of lime on the rim.
Keep the remainder in the fridge for a top-up.
Should serve six.

egészségére!

Another Hungarian musical genius was Georges (formerly Gyorgy) Cziffra. He had a hard life but what a piano player! Here he is interpreting one of old Ferenc's most famous pieces...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fnChH3cFPnY&feature=related

Cocktail anyone? Everybody can join in!

A couple of things happened this week which made me think that you don't need to be an aficionado (or poseur, as some would have it) to enjoy the odd cocktail. There are, in fact, plenty of odd cocktails around and drunk by very odd people. A good chum reminded me of the infamous 'wine spo-dee-o-dee' sampled in Kerouac's On the Road. It went something like this ...

Grab a glass, any sort of glass – chipped would be sufficient
Chuck in a slug of red biddy
Add a measure of rotgut whiskey (note the 'e' here)
Top it with another slug of red biddy.

The plan is that the wine will wrap itself around the rotgut whiskey and mask the flavour.
Sounds rather horrible but I imagine it has the desired effect.
Hank Williams – at least I think it was he – wrote a song about it. Here are the lyrics...

Well down in New Orleans where everything's fine
All them cats is sippin' that wine
Drinkin' that mess is sure delight
Soon to be fightin' and fussin' all night

Drinkin' wine spodee-o, drinkin' wine
wine spodee-o, drinkin' wine
wine spodee-o, drinkin' wine
Pass that bottle to me

Wine, wine, wine
(Blackberry)
Wine, wine, wine
(Raspberry)
Wine, wine, wine
(Huckleberry)
Wine, wine, wine
(Wild Cherry)
Wine, wine, wine
Pass that bottle to me

Drinkin' that mess is sure delight
Soon to be fightin' and fussin' all night
Knockin' out windows, kickin' down doors
Drinkin' a half-gallon and askin' for more

Drinkin' wine spodee-o, drinkin' wine
(drinkin' wine)
wine spodee-o, drinkin' wine
(drinkin' wine)
wine spodee-o, drinkin' wine
Pass that bottle to me

And if you follow this link you can listen to Jerry Lee sing it...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dNbOI39fCM0

Knockin' out windows, kickin' down doors – ah, memories. A few years back, you could go to court in Scotland for such an offence and your brief would plead that "strong drink had been taken and my client was not in complete control of his faculties, you honour". If your luck was in, the sheriff would be a fellow sot and admonish you, with the rider to "be of good behaviour for three months".

I was reminded, too, of another less than salubrious cocktail. Years ago in Ma Cameron's bar in Aberdeen, I was having a swift half of Guinness when an old, rough-looking guy crept in and asked for a large port and brandy, the drink of choice among some, apparently – at 11am. I was appraised today also of another chap, one of the old newspaper fraternity,  who often gulped that very pick-me up at the 'tea break'. In fact, on one occasion, this same chap enjoyed such a lengthy tea break that he had to rush back up to his desk at 12.30 as he was on the rota for early lunch. Ah, the old days...
One fortunate thing for those who lived to tell the tale ... I know how they'll be spending their winter heating allowance this year. You have to stay warm. You must!