The Eighth Tribe, 1978 (5. évfolyam, 1-12. szám)
1978-10-01 / 10. szám
Page 6 THE EIGHTH TRIBE October, 1978 Night-time celebration top of Old Baldy. as well as its potency caused its fame to spread quickly through Europe to win the praises of such as Cromwell, Voltaire, Heine, Goethe. Robert Browning, the British poet, wrote its praises, and the likes of Beethoven and Schubert composed songs in its honor. A Hungarian poet, Vörösmarthy, claimed it contained the “treasures” of the universe. Early alchemists, in fact, were said to have believed that the wine actually contained gold. In any case, wine experts agree that the Tokay — particularly its dark, sweet and oily-texture aszu — has a taste like no other. As a personal witness, one writer can testify that the aszu turns knees into rubber quicker than any other wine or even vodka. A travel guide nicely understates the feeling this way: “Whoever drinks Tokay wines feels a suddenly rising flame, then a mellowing softness.” The other two white Tokay wines are similar but have slightly less “flame.” An official booklet says the aszu’s basic ingredient is a grape that has been dried to almost the texture of a raisin. Its sap-like mash is then added to the regular wine. It is a taste never to be forgotten, even if one does not care for a wine that borders on sweet. So famous was it that, from the 13th Century on, invading soldiers, mercenaries and looters often harvested its grapes and swords — bringing Tokay as much misfortune as fame. Why not grow it elsewhere? Many tried. To a limited degree, the French have succeeded in Alsace, or so one would think until he tries the original. Other efforts have brought only mediocre success, or outright failure. The reasons for Tokay’s unique taste have to do with the village’s rich volcanic soil and its autumns, which normally are long, hot and dry in this area of Hungary. But the ravages of weather and World War II virtually reduced the wine production to a trickle until the government in the 1950s decided to invest vast sums and double vineyard land area, which had dwindled to about 7,000 acres. Today Tokay is again becoming a mecca for wine lovers, if not the production of its namesake itself. In summer and fall, the number of tourists swells to more than 125,000 in a village that has no hotel and only two good restaurants (featuring fish caught in the nearby rivers). But it does have a large campground, and visitors not caring for the outdoor life can rent rooms in private homes by contacting the local tourist bureau. Except for Yugoslavia, Hungary is the only country behind the Iron Curtain that permits this. Where possible, Americans are put in homes where at least some English is spoken. More elaborate accommodations can be found a short drive away in Sárospatak, where the government has converted into a hotel a monastery that overlooks a giant Catholic cathedral and a famous 13th century castle. The hotel has an excellent restaurant providing all the Magyar delicacies as well as gypsy violins, from which there seems no escape in Hungary. The Hungarians try to fashion hotels somewhat on the line of the Spanish paradores, from the many castles and ancient buildings that dot the landscape. Almost every town and village is adorned by a large church, which is heavily attended on Sunday, and a castle that housed some nobleman of past eras. The food, too, is not unlike the Spanish for seasoning and zest. Beer lovers, incidentally, will find it to their liking because the famous Czech pilsner from just across the border is available for roughly 35 cents a bottle. But only heretics and tourists, the townspeople tell you, consume this with Tokay so cheaply available. “It is,” says one restaurateur, “like going to the Bay of Naples and ordering a steak.”
