 |
| Vörösmarty Tér: the crowd drinking mulled wine |
It’s getting cold here now and the days are becoming shorter and shorter. With only a wink of daylight before the sun dips back below the horizon around 4 in the afternoon, I’m left shivering in the dark beneath my down jacket. But although many grumble about it, I love these wintry days; I head to my favorite café on Andrássy út, to my cozy corner table where I write and meet friends.
It’s my first holiday season in Europe. Our apartment, still not completely renovated, is sitting in limbo. I don’t think we’ll decorate at all, which is a little sad and makes me miss New York and our yearly Christmas tree purchase. After dragging it up two flights of stairs, we’d fling on a sting of lights and our only two decorations (a set of Mr. and Mrs. Claus’s underpants—it’s cuter than it sounds). The apartment smelled like pine, and outside on 2nd Avenue the traffic was thick as usual. Maybe we’d cook or have a bottle of wine—or both. This year we’ve been too busy, and in many ways we’re still transitioning. Daniel’s mom, insistent with Christmas cheer, gave us four small, sparkly silver balls as a table centerpiece. They kind of get lost in the clutter.
But at least I have mulled wine! If not much else has felt like Christmas, this popular European tradition has made up for it. I crave it constantly: steaming hot, lightly alcoholic, spiced, with an orange peel floating on top. Awesomeness in a mug. One of the most popular places to find mulled wine is at Vörösmarty Tér. Various vendors around the square offer it either simply spiced or spiked with brandy, and each seller’s is uniquely flavored. People huddle around tables sipping their wine and eating platefuls of hurka (sausage) with mustard and steamed purple cabbage. I’m not much of a meat eater, but Hungarians have ridiculously good sausage, and at least in this small country I have a much better idea of how this meat got to my plate. Also popular is blood sausage, which initially gave me a bad case of the heebie-jeebies. Outnumbered by a gang of Daniel’s friends, however, I finally tried a bite. Honestly, not bad. Not at all what I expected. It’s mixed with rice, and didn’t have that congealed texture. Just tasted like regular sausage, but it’s black, and maybe a little sweeter.
 |
| Vörösmarty Tér lit up for Christmas |
 |
| One of Parliament’s two identical debate chambers |
The largest, most beautiful piece of architecture in Budapest is arguably Hungary’s parliament building, positioned along the Danube across from the Buda castle. It seems like it should have been the most obvious touristy thing to knock off my list of places to visit in my first few months here, but I hadn’t been there until this November when my new friend Szandra treated me to a tour. The inside is impressively ornate (as you can see below), but my favorite detail was the cigar holders outside the debate chambers. Politicians needed a place to rest their cigars while debates were in session. After a number of smokers couldn’t recall in which slot they had left their cigars, numbers were placed on the holder to correspond with the seats inside the debate chamber.
 |
| Parliament |
 |
| Parliament’s main outer hall |
(...)
I’ve sent out queries for my novel. Just waiting for responses from agents. It’s in the universe’s hands now. And below is Daniel’s shop. It’s not quite ready yet, but the goal is to open to the public next week. It’s time to bite the bullet and face all the uncertainty of starting a new business. We’re both entering a new phase…again. Wish us luck!
Read Amrit's full blog article at http://www.amritchima.com/Amrit_Chima/My_Blog__Whatever_That_Means/Entries/2011/11/30_NOVEMBER.html
No comments:
Post a Comment