Magyar Hírek, 1988 (41. évfolyam, 1-22. szám)

1988-03-18 / 6. szám

Ute GtmptfEiD feats PHYSICIST AND GASTRONOME The 1981 edition of the Hungarian “Who is Who?” informs that KÜRTI, Nicholas (bom 14. 5. 1908)—English physicist of Hun­garian birth. Studied at Budapest, Paris and Berlin universities. Lec­tured at the Breslau technical col­lege between 1931-33, worked at Clarendon Laboratory, Oxford be­tween 1933 and 1940, subsequent­ly on the British atomic energy programme from 1940 till 1945, lecturing on physics at Oxford University between 1945 and 1960. Held a chair between 1967-75. Honorary member of the Hungar­ian Academy of Sciences. His fields of research are the physics of low temperatures in technology and biology. Naturally, only the final results are listed in works of reference. On Nicholas Kiirti’s instance the entry failed to mention that he was also elected a member of the Royal Socie­ty, although he regards that honour as one of the most important things is his life, besides his successful work, happy marriage and family life. There is another essential fact missing from the entry: the physicist enjoys cooking particularly since his retirement. Yet when I suggested that this passion helped to while away the time in retirement he pro­tested : “I was interested in cooking even in my childhood. My mother was a competent housewife and allowed me to join her in whatever she was doing in the kitchen. But I began to cook only when I was about 23 or 24.” “Is there any link between the physics of low temperatures and cooking?” “The two are not connected in any way” he states, but rectifies this promptly: “Well, it seems though that an approach between physics and cooking has already started.” Were he not as modest as he is, he could justly add that this nearing be­gan precisely thanks to him. This is how it happened: About twenty years ago Professor Kürti was invited to read a lecture at the Royal Institute, where for the last century and a half scientists have held Friday Evening Discourses every week. The custom was started by Faraday, the great physicist, and the audiences are usually made up of scientist, research workers and adult members of their families. “An invitation counts as a great honour” recalls Professor Kürti “thus it was natural that I accepted. But I added immediately that I did not intend to talk about my own field of research, but on a rather un­usual subject.” “And what would that be?” enquired the director of the Royal Institute. “I suggest that the title of the lec­ture should be “The Physicist in the Kitchen.’’ But since I must make tho­rough preparations for the lecture perhaps we should postpone it to the following year.” Well, that year became several more, but finally they presented the bill and asked Nicholas Kürti to de­liver his unconventional lecture com­plemented with experiments as the century-old custom dictated. What can the physicist really do in the kitchen?! “Well, he could do all sorts of things” says Kürti. “I demonstrated, for instance, how laboratory instru­ments, which were never before used in the kitchen—and perhaps not even since then—could assist the cook. Take the injection syringe, for example. Marinating is far more ef­fective when the pickle is used not only to soak the meat in but also in­jected into the leg of lamb. I could also mention micro-waves. One mode of their application, the micro­­wave oven has been known for de­cades. Grilled ice cream has been known for even longer. It is hot out­side and cold inxide. I, on the other hand, invented the reversed grilled ice cream, which is icy on the outside and hot inside, and did not need any special device, only micro-waves.” The first of these unconventional lectures was followed by others. Dur­ing one of his visits to Hungary Pro­fessor Kürti lectured also at the Eöt­vös Lorand University. The subject, “Physicist in the Kitchen” aroused tremendouos interest. Not only scientists flocked to hear it, but also eminent chefs. János Szentágothai, the famous anatomist sat in the first row, and so did Mária Ágoston, head of the Gerbeaud cake-shop. “I demonstrated in Budapest” Ni­cholas Kürti recalls “how the hypo­dermic syringe could be used in mak­ing devil’s pills. This delicacy is in fact a tiny doughnut fried in oil and rolled into chocolate or cocoa. The latter gives its dark colour whence the name of devil’s pill.” “When I fried the tiny doughnuts and coated them with chocolate I took the syringe and injected a little sour cherry liqueur into them. A few drops of that dew produced a real miracle. The audience found my in­vention the improved devil’s pills de­lightful.” I could not resits asking: “Is cooking, or a lecture by a world-famous scientist on the subject not considered infra dig in Oxford?” The reply was a definite no. “Physicists and, I can confidently say, the majority of scientists, enjoy fine food, many of them are also ex­cellent cooks. However, they usually do not use their special techniques in the kitchen." “Why?” “Perhaps they think they must not introduce such a serious thing as la­boratory techniques into the kitchen. I may be wrong too. About two years ago I decided I would investigate what my fellow scientists think about cooking.” “Nicholas Kürti decided to ques­tion a statistical sample of scientists. In the course of doing so he and his wife wrote and addressed not less than nine hundred letters. That is the number of ordinary and honorary members of the Royal Society (thus Professor János Szentágothai, as a honorary member also received a let­ter.) The letter sought an answer to a single question:” “Would you be willing to write your opinion on cooking, or perhaps even send ideas, recipes for an an­thology to be published later?” Al­most five hundred answered. True, about a quarter of these wrote that they had nothing to say or that they had no recipe they could contribute. Some wrote that they had recipes and opinions but would not consent to publish these under their name. However, just about as many scien­tists promised to send, or have al­ready sent, material. “And what will you contribute to the planned volume?” “I do not know yet. Perhaps the recipe for devilled lamb. That was what I cooked a few years ago at the Oxford Food Symposium. The latter is an annual food demonstration and cooking convention held in Oxford. I may give the recipe for a Dobos­­cake, or that for a trifle. The latter is a very popular English sweet. It con­sists of sponge-cake, strawberry jam, English-style vanilla pudding, whipped cream, candied fruit and grated almonds. The most important part of the proceedings is to add a generous dash of sherry. Once, when I was entertaining Hungarian guests, I produced a Hungarian variation. I added a dash of apricot brandy in­stead of sherry, mixing apricot jam instead of strawberry jam, and final­ly decorating it with sliced apricots.” “And what did they think of this Hungarian variation?” “Well, it found highly favourable response and not only amongst the Hungarian guests. They had the op­portunity to compare, because I made and offered them both kinds, the classic English trifle as well as the Hungarian apricot-flavoured var­iation.” “Which is your favourite kitchen: Hungarian or English?” The Solomonic answer was? “I favour whatever is good in every kitchen!” LÁSZLÓ GARAMI 30

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