Vodka, Vampires, and Vintage Villages

Dear Euro-fan,

Business as usual here in Paris now that the festivities are over. Or are they? There’s always a good reason to crack open a bottle and share something delicious here, and this weekend most people will be choosing their galette des Rois, a cake for Twelfth Night, made of flaky pastry—usually with a frangipane filling.

Tradition requires that this is warmed up in the oven, then divided into equal parts, the youngest member of the ‘party’ is then supposed to look away and say who is to get the first piece, the second etc, until they’ve all been distributed. Hidden inside the cake is a little bean or porcelain figurine—watch your teeth—and if you are the lucky recipient, you become the 'king' (or 'queen'). This basically means you get to wear the paper crown (thoughtfully provided by the cake shop) and choose your regal consort—but your first duty is to buy the next cake…and so it goes on all through January.

I’ve sworn off cakes for a while, though—Portuguese Christmases translate into copious amounts of food. As a result, one of my New Year Resolutions includes something along the fitness line. And I’m determined to explore more of the continent, so I’m looking at ways of sneaking off for a long weekend every now and then to report from the field for you.

To whet your appetite for what's to come, in this first issue of The European for 2007, we travel to Germany to check out the smallest town to host a jazz festival, we see if a certain area of Romania really is as scary as Bram Stoker made out, Elise Warner continues to titillate our taste buds in Tuscany, and we find a novel cure for dandruff that comes in a bottle…

With warmest wishes for a happy and healthy New Year,

Leigh Fergus
Editor, The European

P.S. For more news and views about Europe, keep an eye on our Europe website at www.internationalliving.com/europe

P.P.S. If you have any comments or queries, please send them to theeuropean@internationalliving.com

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The Cult of Vodka

by Anne Coombes

The Belarusians say that a festive table isn’t worth its salt without a bottle of vodka or two on it. Despite having a population of just 10 million, Belarus is the world’s fifth largest vodka consumer. Walk into any local corner shop and you’re assailed by hundreds of bottles of the stuff—much produced by Minsk’s famous Kristall factory and a snip at just over $2 a bottle. (US$1 equals 2,140 Belarusian roubles.)

Undying friendship
Quite simply, vodka is the essence of the Belarusian spirit. As soon as you get two or more men around a table, the vodka comes out and all is well with the world. It’s impossible for a birthday, anniversary, or wedding to go by without toasts— sometimes as many as 50––as each guest has his chance to stand up and give a speech. Everyone swears undying friendship, praises the hosts, thanks the guests, lauds the beauty of the women present, and expresses his hopes for the future. It’s an uplifting, albeit rather sentimental, experience.

No business meeting ever takes place without a bottle; deals are sealed with a colossal binge. Belarusians only feel they can trust you once you’ve been drunk together. Even new purchases—such as a car or fur coat—get the treatment; it’s a way of showing appreciation for your good fortune. Unsurprisingly, in military circles, medals also have their own toast; they’re dropped into a glass of vodka and the proud recipient drinks from the glass before removing the decoration and putting it on.

Women are off the hook
As each shot is knocked back in one gulp, it’s easy to find yourself getting more than tipsy. The best way to stay the distance is to drink water in between each glass and help yourself to the nibbles always available: herring, pickles, caviar on black bread, sausage, salo (solid lumps of pig fat), and cheese. If you’re a woman, you’re off the hook, as local shampanskoye (fizzy wine that has a distinct aftertaste of feet) is the usual tipple. For the men, it’s a test of endurance; the last man standing is the “Vodka Tsar.”
Vodka isn’t just a drink: It’s a talisman, a wonder cure for every malady going. Popular belief has it that there’s nothing vodka can’t cure—from a cold to dandruff. If you’re thinning on top, wash your hair with it and you’ll soon have luxurious growth sprouting. If your feet are smelly, soak them in it. If your dog coughs, someone’s likely to recommend you give him a dose, too!
Understand vodka and you’re some way toward understanding the Belarusians.

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Untouched by Modern Society—or Vampires

by Ian Stalker

Simion Alb says visitors to Transylvania won’t find their hosts hurriedly excusing themselves after cock crow, and they needn’t take rosaries when venturing out at night. But Alb, the Romanian National Tourist Office’s director for North America, agrees that Transylvania—the setting for Bram Stoker’s 19th-century horror story Dracula—does lure tourists here.

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“Basically, tourists associate Transylvania with vampires before they go,” Alb reports. “But after they come back, they have another image—one of pleasant people living in a part of Europe that in some ways has barely been touched by modern society.”

Tough but patriotic
Transylvania boasts modern cities, many medieval villages, and castles-a-plenty, including Bran Castle, sometimes referred to as Dracula Castle. That castle was named for real-life 15th-century nobleman Vlad Dracula. This character is today seen by Romanians as a tough but patriotic ruler who fought Turkish invaders and dealt harshly with thieves. According to Alb, however, it’s doubtful whether Vlad the Impaler, as the no-nonsense leader is often known, ever stayed in the building. One castle he did live in, Poienari, is largely in ruins, although the castle walls can still be seen.

Stoker himself never visited Transylvania but learned of it, deciding that it sounded mysterious enough as a setting for his book. He found the Dracula name during visits to a London library and then created a permanent link between vampires and Transylvania in the public mind with his novel. Transylvania wasn’t previously associated with vampires, but Stoker has made it into what Alb believes may be one of the most famous regions in the world.

Witch trials
Among Transylvanian structures is the Dracula Castle-Hotel, erected in 1980 in the Borgo Pass area (also mentioned in Stoker’s novel). Employees at the 66-room hotel sport medieval costumes and the premises become particularly lively around Halloween, attracting the likes of Miss Transylvania, declared Countess Dracula in the hotel for the coming year. Guests can also find a masquerade ball in a hotel with an onsite coffin and the same type of food that Dracula hero Jonathan Harker dined on when he was hosted by Stoker’s king vampire. Another Transylvania hotel is The Golden Krone, a name that will also be recognized by those who have read Stoker’s novel. Re-enactments of witch trials of long ago can be seen in medieval Sighisoara, and, while unrelated to Stoker’s book, they are certainly a curiosity for those who enjoy the macabre.

Oddly enough, Stoker’s novel is probably less well known in Romania than elsewhere, only having been translated into Romanian in 1992. But, unlike Stoker’s scheming Dracula, who greeted his English guest Harker with his “enter freely and of your own will,” Alb promises that today’s tourists can expect a genuinely friendly welcome from a people eager to see their visitors return home safe and sound at the end of their vacation.

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The Tastes of Tuscany (Part Two)

by Elise Warner

Tuscany is a great excuse for feasting. Lunch today is at Castello di Oliveto, an agriturismo, game preserve, and elegant venue for receptions and wine tasting. The estate, in the hills of Chianti, about 19 miles from Florence, offers tranquil stays in restored farmhouses with tennis, walks, biking through the countryside, and a pool. On summer evenings, torches are lit on the battlements and music plays for dancing.

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Estate wines
We taste the estate’s wines: a bright, ruby Chianti; Leone X, made with Sangiovese, Merlot, and Cabernet Sauvignon, fermented separately and aged in oak barrels for eight months; and white wines: Bianco dei Papi and the sparkling Brut Spumante. Our glasses are filled and, after crostino we’re served roast pork and turkey with potatoes and salad, and for dessert, Schiacciata alla Fiorentina (a sponge cake with cream). Grappa is offered ’round—its scent reminiscent of vanilla, liquorice, and red berries.

We visit the Pope’s bedroom and the wine cellar and learn about the Pucci coat of arms. During a fierce war between the Medici and the Florentine Republic, the entire Pucci household, except for a young boy, were mortally wounded. The boy’s black nanny saved him; they escaped through an underground tunnel. The nanny’s portrait, on the Pucci coat of arms, is in the dining area.

A feast by any reckoning
For the evening buffet at our hotel, Ecoline Savi, we start with vegetable tarts and bruschetta, sweet with garlic and tomatoes, and Crostini di Fegatini, prepared with chicken livers, onion, anchovy fillets, olive oil, and a touch of Vin Santo. Next comes a choice of Florentine (chicken stock, pasta, and a melange of vegetables) or mushroom soup, before the prosciutto crudo (uncooked ham) and fried polenta (cornmeal) with ragu sauce. Pasta dishes include Strigoli medieval-style with cream, sausage, rocket, and macaroni with cherry tomatoes and basil. The main course, Pollo Alla Cacciatora (hunters’ chicken), is cooked in dry, white wine, vegetables, garlic, mushrooms, and juniper berries.

Beaneaters!
There are two salads: tuna with cannelloni, creamy-tasting, off-whitebeans (the beans are so popular here that Tuscans are dubbed mangiafagiole—bean-eaters—by their neighbors) and Insulate di Farro, made with a tangy, ancient wheat with a nutlike flavor). For those who have room: crème caramel, fig cake (made with honey, figs, pine nuts, and pistachios), and cheesecake. This meal qualifies as a feast by any reckoning.

After these tastes of Tuscany, it’s time to plan next year’s vacation. Perhaps a trip to Naples where pizza was born or Florence for Bistecca Fiorentina (steak Florentine)—thick, seared and rare, rubbed with olive oil, pepper, lemon juice, salt, and parsley. These are culinary delights for people who live to eat.
If you go...
Castello di Oliveto, Via di Monte Olivo 6, 50051 Castelfiorentino, Florence, Italy;tel. +39 (0) 5716-4322 ; e-mail: castellooliveto@tin.it
The Castello di Oliveto is near Castelfiorentino, roughly 19 miles from Florence.
Econlini Savi,Via San Marino 18, 1-51016 Montecatini Terme, Italy; tel. 011-39-0572-70331; fax: 011–39 –0572-71624. (Montecatini is approximately 10 miles from Pistoia, 19 miles from Lucca, and 43 miles from Florence, taking 50 minutes by train.)

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A Village in the Vineyards

by Pam Mandel

We call it, affectionately, Big Charles Creek. That’s the literal translation of Grosskarlbach, the name of a tiny town of 1,200 in the upper Pfalz, Germany. Don’t let the town’s size mislead you, though, as there’s plenty to offer in this medieval village.

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From grain to grape
At one time there were seven mills here but the surrounding fields have gone from grain to grapes in the last 400 years, with several wineries downtown—and a few places that make sparkling wine, too. An antique shop, boutique hotels, and, of course, exceptional restaurants are present, as is the Palatina Ceramics factory where you can get tableware, garden pots, and mosaic-style bistro tabletops.

And one of Germany’s top restaurants is tucked away in the narrow streets. Karlbach is located in an immaculately restored 1700s Gutshof. The best way to translate this term might be “manor house”—where the lord of the land lived. His fine horses may have been stabled in this dry courtyard while his workers struggled with reluctant donkeys and leaky roofs.

Today, the courtyard is spanned by a modern steel and glass roof. Grosskarlbach takes advantage of the appeal of this protection every summer with a jazz festival. This is a small town with a big idea: the smallest town in the world to host a jazz festival. The “Long Nights of Jazz” takes place every year on July 1 and there are culinary delights to be had in the restaurants and, naturally, plenty of excellent local wine.

A personalized dinner
But we’re here on a winter’s night, so we’re inside in a cozy, wood-paneled room. Rather than ask us what we’d like, our attentive waitress says, “What can we cook for you tonight?” I’m disarmed by the personalization of our dinner, but other than one couple, we’re the only people in the place, so it seems right.

The handwritten menu is limited but specialized. There’s highland beef and fish from Brittany, and “ schwarzwurzel” soup. Schwarzwurzel is black salsify, a root vegetable that’s difficult to prepare, and rarely available fresh—not to be passed up if you get the chance to try it. The taste is subtle, oyster-like.

Our glasses are kept full even as our plates are emptied. The spelt risotto is too rich for me to finish and I am reluctantly forced to forgo dessert. After dinner we stroll the silent streets of Grosskarlbach. Lace curtains are elegant cutouts, backlit and framed by painted shutters. The river runs through town, singing a good night song that’s hundreds of years old.

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