Being all classy while killing brain cells in Budapest

A colleague threw a pre-party, which got a little carried away, and so the pre-party became the party... but only partly. 

By the time we left for the real party (only a few doors down from the pre-party-cum-party), everyone was cheerfully feeling the effects of the party.

We gather around a latecomer, who brought a bag of gyros as a late-to-the-party present and arrived to the real party. By now, there was no way the rest of the partiers could catch up to us and they looked on as we dug into the gyros. This was a nice bar, but that did not stop the feeding frenzy.

Carlos, Budapest's Brazilian wine sommelier and the bewildered onlooker from the story above, often recommended various reds from Villany. He was never wrong.

We dripped garlic sauce all over the floor, while handing half eaten gyros to each other and barely saying a word between bites. One of our friends, Carlos, was one of those left looking on at the debauchery. As he put it, the whole bar was absolutely disgusted by our orgy of gyro munching.

I’m recounting this tale because it is important to note that this was not brought on by whiskey, tequila or even palinka, but rose wine.

Yes, rose wine.

Hungary is a wine-growing country, which was news to me when I arrived. Little did I know the hills and several provinces' micro-climates combine to create a terroir that produces some damn fine wine.

On a visit to Eger, my friend Pavel and I sipped Bull’s Blood, a delicious, hearty red. Interestingly, and lucky for me, Hungary is known well for their dry reds. But there's some whites too. Tokaji, a delcious sweet wine, was declared 'Wine of Kings, King of Wines' by Louis XIV of France. I might have gotten that quote backwards.

I’ve developed a taste for dry whites and – I’m going to admit this on the internet, which could mean getting my Man Card revoked from some whiskey/beer drinkers back home – there are some dry rose wines that are pretty good too.

One of the reasons the wines of Hungary have been so accessible for me is they are cheap by Canadian standards. You can find a good bottles of wine in a Budapest corner store for as little as five Canadian dollars.

Back home, I used to walk the LCBO’s wine aisles feeling as if I had no knowledge on the subject and as if I had no business there –  like I was shopping for tampons 

In Hungary, I recognize bottles I have enjoyed, I try new wines thanks to the decent prices, and while my pairing knowledge is still limited to “Red with meat, white with fish,” I now strut down the wine aisles with a little more courage – and I promise it's not the liquid courage seen in the tale at the beginning of this post.