This City

I smell the streets –
They smell me.
We rub up against each other –
Knowingly.
In the shade
The stink still falters,
While in the heat its perfume alters.

The dead, the dying,
The unmoving few
In doorways drink, that’s
Nothing new.
The swank, the silly
The squandered dreams,
Chase behind- unknowingly
on these social seams.
The pretty, the wealthy,
They speak without clue
Of injustice and poverty
– As if they really knew!
The diet of greed
Has led us astray
Each one of us guilty
For it being this way.
Tomorrow again I’ll stalk
Shadows and dreams.
I’ll count myself lucky as ever
As if I know what that means.

 

©TheHairyTeacher2013

Good Marketing

Good Marketing

Set away within the framework interior of the Lehel market building this Fancy* little Cafe has its general appeal. Below on the market floor, the raw meat, and fresh fruit and veg vies for purchase on the punters’ purse strings while on this floor in the environs, cheap clothes and shoes make promises in price that I know from experience they will not keep.

Never mind because if you’ve found yourself with time, maybe with shopping bags weighing you down, this little cafe offers hope in terms of well made coffee.

A polished affair of wood and brass inside, there are also the obligatory metal seats outside and whereas they may not offer the same luxuriant feel they are perched at the railing, overlooking the activities below.

Coffee is freshly ground here and can be bought by the bag as well as enjoyed in brew. Other beverages are also on offer, teas etc., and there are the compulsory marlenkas (layered cakes) on the counter. Sometimes there’s more, sometimes less, but it is a place to pass a while, the atmosphere within the shell of Lehel market building, abounding.

*http://www.fancycafe.hu/

 

©TheHairyTeacher2013

Pass the Word

Pass the Word

First impressions of Code 7: trendy but determined. This place wants to appeal and in an area around the 3rd district where old town and high-rise clash, and where Spar and büfés often times win the day, it is a chance, methinks, to capitalise on the migratory office staff who work in the district.

It seems to take itself seriously: the breakfast menu is cheap between 7 and 9 am to draw the early birds. About time! Oft times, Pest-side, it has been impossible to find a cooked breakfast before ten.

Well, on entering I firstly noted the friendliness; a smile can so often cushion the blow even in a bad establishment, something the Hungarian service industry is slowly coming to grips with – and I don’t mean 5 star hotels and the like. I mean down on the ground basic joints.

I ordered ham and eggs, and a coffee, and sat to think. The music was on but unintrusive, and, while, not my taste: it was funky not irritating.

Waiting no more than five minutes when a white plate arrived, two yellow eyes peeping up at me, a promise of the ham hidden beneath. Apart from this, two lumps of something similar to potato sat perched on the presentation – fresh bread-rolls as it turned out.

To put it simply – delicious. Well cooked, nothing burnt! – smooth. As they say, the way to a man’s heart… I’m happy. I’ll be back.

Worth Noting: Ham & Eggs at 490huf, with a long coffee and a sparkling water came in at 990huf.

A steal!

Downside: Not exactly townside but if you are in the area give it a shot.

 

©TheHairyTeacher2013

A blast from the present

A blast from the present

Well, where there is a doc there is medicine, unless you’re computer burdened and can only associate d-o-c with Word. God help us but I think I’m becoming such. Not my fault except, of course, it is. I’ve chosen the medium to continue.

And so I shall.

On Paulay Ede utca leading from Nagmező to Liszt Ferenc tér there is a place by the name of Cafe Zsivágó, and it has all the pretensions to the old world, the old style, the cafes of central Europe as I would have imagined them 100 years ago. It certainly has all the grandeur with the front section reaching to a high ceiling, the paintings along the wall marking the level which is continued by the gallery which runs from behind the counter area to the back of the establishment. A neat little poke of a room hides inside an archway to the left, and upstairs there are available perchings to allow the full experience of watching – intently if you so wish.

Above and over my right shoulder laughter comes, descending. In that little corner, separated from the greater part of upstairs, a couple, almost hidden, have taken up residence. Indeed a cosy affair. Not the place for the boys and the beer I imagine. A bit too sedate. Hot chocolates and laptops are the order of the day, the latter clashing with my fin de siècle illusions. Bloody Mac!

Ah, but a taste of my hot chocolate and all doubt dissipates. Express divinity personified! And even as I write this I salivate for more. Jesus, and I was going to buy a beer. Sometimes the universe chooses for you and here it surely has.

Now I’m still not about to sing the praises of the place in terms of service. I was sitting upstairs and never approached. However, it could be the policy. And sitting down here with a bit of fresh air, courtesy of an open window, coupled with smoke from the shop assistants of the surrounding outlets who somehow need to congregate right there, I am rather content. The music has run from Louis Armstrong to something a lot more classical. This is what I’d expect – not the bleeding WIFI brigade, though I am not a stranger to this myself and so will not here set myself up the hypocrite – but it’s akin to a Chinese takeaway inside the Acropolis – but I guess this is not meant to be old, just old-fashioned, or old-school, or something, and I’m occasionally glancing at my mobile on the table. The illusion is there – the boundaries are yours.

 

©TheHairyTeacher2013

Whiling away the time

The Clock

Hickery Dickery Dock

Martin went into the clock

The clock struck one

So he had a soup

Hickory Dickory Dock

(A not so traditional children’s rhyme)

This Buda pub, just up the street from the back entrance to Déli train station, on Nagyengyed utca is a comfortable place to find oneself. There isn’t anything too surprising about the prices considering that it advertises itself as a restaurant/pub. The draught beer is all above 500huf. The bottled beer has one under. Guinness, and this is what first attracted me to this place some years ago, has now passed the 1000huf mark. In fact, it’s a little bit more still. But never mind, I wouldn’t recommend it. When I asked for a pint I was told there wouldn’t be any till November; it was a draw* I was unwilling to wait for. Instead I opted for Dreher Bak in the bottle, a potent affair, and perused the menu.

There is a wide selection of the usual Hungarian fare. Meat, in different styles with the usual trimmings. I won’t here elucidate. I was hungry but had not intended to run too high a bill so after flirting with the main courses all in the 1800huf to 2200huf range – steak higher, of course; salads surprisingly not that much lower – I chose a soup. It wasn’t necessary to splash out. I would be heading home in a while and to plenty of food in the fridge. As it was another soup would be waiting for me – thankfully different. What I chose at the Clock was a veal ragout with sour cream. Nice? Yes! Very nice? Hmmm, yes. The best ever? Take it easy!!! I may have to turn into Johnny Depp in “Once Upon A Time In Mexico” if that were to ever happen. In truth, to sum up the dining experience: it was pleasant, efficient, quick as was necessary, and the staff, at least my waitress ‘for today’ was comfortably friendly. By that I mean she didn’t have to try – no fake smile cracking her frown – she was a natural. On good days, on bad, I’m sure she’d have her moods but she struck me, as first, professional.

The place itself is all indoors so forget it if you want the garden-terrace ambiance. Down the street there is a pizzeria place, good as I’ve heard – the verdict is forthcoming, and they have that outdoor appeal. Here it’s enclosed in a typical Irish-y pub feel, the theme here being clocks, the big one looming above, on entering, on the ceiling; the shelves all around covered with them, pictures, wallpaper, real old devices.

The Clock is not short of clocks so if you have a funky phobia, forget it, but if you’re a little malicious and like to set alarm clocks in appliance shops, this may have that quirky appeal, though I haven’t test-driven any of the clocks here on offer so don’t take my word on their functioning.

To the front and left of the entrance runs the bar with a smattering of tables off into the corner while to the right another cluster of tables and chairs. It’s all cosy without being cramped. It is nice. I would recommend it so, if you have the time, and if you don’t, try out The Clock.

*In this case draw means “the draw on the pint” meaning how much has been taken from the keg that particular day.

 

©TheHairyTeacher2013

For a song

Rigó Jancsi’s Cukrászda in the 12th district came as a surprise. That a colleague of mine had posted or “checked himself in” there on Facebook was how it came to my attention. You see it’s easy to miss; a poke in all ways, the 4 tables inside overly optimistic given the real floor space, not that the passage way from door and along the L counter is impeded, and I got to see why. Like 2 or 3 others I sat with cake and coffee, but what surprised me was the entertainment in the form of the constant flow of people in and out – and where there are people characters emerge.

Like the Yanks who spoke fluent, at least to my ears, Hungarian but conversed among themselves in English. A reminder of this country’s history of emigration.

But apart from the people the place itself is also worth noting, the business I mean.  Some call the interior retro, I call it old-fashioned. It hasn’t changed much in all the years so it isn’t like it’s tried to look this way. It is original. Not many these days.

The staff is all friendly, engaging people – the banter flows, smiles flashes, and all in the name of top service.

However, people, furnishings, staff and all, it was the prices that took me aback. This is the 12th district so I expected to be drawing blood for little luxuries but at 280huf for a cup of coffee and cake I was more than pleasantly surprised. I was almost suspicious. Something had to give. In truth, it didn’t. The illusion come reality remained with me right out the door and onto this page.

With its selection of pogácsa, cakes and other pastries at prices that would shock the farmer’s daughter   this has become a surprising new favourite, which must be put into perspective considering my history as a beer drinker rather than a cake-eater.

Thumbs up – expectations high.

I hope the next visit will not disappoint!

…it didn’t!!!

(Ad infinitum???)

 

©TheHairyTeacher2013

Moka pokey

A step off the main drag, Margit Körút style, at the corner of Varsányi Irén and Eröd utca(k), this one’s new to me, but I gather, also to the neighbourhood.
The first thing I noticed was its relative modesty from outside, a chalkboard and a small sign bare indication. If I hadn’t been told of this place I may never have found it – but aren’t such places sometimes the best.
Well let’s see.
On entering: a low table to the left, two small tables to the right, and a bar curving out in front makes it, as the exterior, certainly not boasting swank. A stairwell winding up suggests seating out of sight and this is pleasing considering everything downstairs is full, with one-a-table being a jam.
There’s free WIFI just in case the laptops accompanying nearly every single customer haven’t aleady given the game away, but these days that’s par for the course/to be expected.
I order and settle upstairs. Cosy seats, low tables, not the best for writing on, but it does force me to unwind, and that is what I do, caffeine to hand.
The general atmosphere is subdued, gentle, placid and the staff are suitably laid-back, friendly, and curious. Chalked up on the wall is a food menu but I regard it only as a snap Hungarian lesson, I’ve just come from food…home-cooked…the best:)
But what has me really kicking back and letting go, beyond the confines of my armchair is the music; a mix of Jazz, slow blues, and old R&B (the good stuff when singers had voices not just funky names). To top it all off the sounds are omitting from a record player, the real deal – vinyls, needle caressing, and not a scratch to be heard. What manner of preservation is this! Almost unholy, what with my Hits 5 playing like a seance snippet off of Paranormal Weekly these days, well like it would if I had a record player. I’m not HD me, I’m all for da mood. Like smoke in a dark and dirty Jazz bar, I miss some of the things which are now considered bad for me.
As I finish my coffee I laze, I inhale, and I promise to return. It’s a wee bit on the parsimonious in terms of overall space but just to huddle up to the vinyls and speak about times past, I could offer up my peg leg – again!
Moka…tis no joke!!!

 

©TheHairyTeacher2013

In them I see me

Words from another-
complimenting.
There is honesty and
bravery –
I am jealous.
I fight for my voice;
it seeps sometimes
through the cracks
in my reserve:
my fear of others’ opinions.

But it vies for recognition
more and more!

 

©TheHairyTeacher2013

Without a shadow, well maybe…

Without a shadow, well maybe…

A cafe half hidden by the flyover outside and on the wrong side off Fő tér, in Óbuda, this place is worth more than a mention. It could be another functioning kocsma like the ones in the underpass nearby but it has prettied itself up with a simple choice of furnishing: wooden chairs, simply cushioned benches, and the decor of brick work and plaster. From outside it could almost be mistaken for a Pékség/Bakery or Cukrászda/Confectionery due to the display cabinet in the window. On close inspection one notices the meleg sandwiches on offer and begins to realise that there is more beyond.

It’s a tidy affair inside with enough seating for a comfortable 20 and with lights low hanging as well on wall-mounted fixtures one gets the feeling that a little thought was put into making this a little more.

If making the most is to be referred to as a means to encouraging entrepreneurialism then maybe this place should be included in the books. No glitz or glam, yet spotless. Not easy to find that combination in these days of crude commercialism and utter depravity.

My advice: if you’re ever near here and tired of the streets, pop in. It’s surprisingly cheery, even when quiet. In fact, with WIFI and solitude it could be numbered among my offices on the go these days.

Warning: Unlike some of the bars in leafy suburban Budapest, which holds their own surprises…this place can begin to fill up early evening (and midweek) and gets a little on the noisy side so if it’s a quiet chat you’re after maybe look elsewhere. However, if drinks, or chatter around you are your thing, try  Perszé Presszó.

As for the staff:  friendly? Perszé! 🙂

 

©TheHairyTeacher2013

Hello, I must be sitting

Sitting, nestled between the two Mammuts on the Buda side of the city, this little treasure can easily be missed by those who are more image-conscious. Before its face-lift it was little more than a glorified kocsma with games machines flashing and whirring and buzzing, and to be frank little has changed. What it has got and has always had as long as the weather holds is outside seating and though you might find yourself sitting, inhaling the fumes of the passing cars (as an ex-smoker I still like to flirt with the lung damage) there is an undeniable atmosphere worthy of it all. The footpath that the tables encroach upon is a busy thoroughfare so as far as people watching goes Buda-side; this is oddly one of the best. Across Szena tér the other bars are either locked away underground or without the promise of such flow. Trombitás at Moszkva/Széll Kálmán tér is hidden behind stained glass and Fasor is too far out. Right here, right now…well, wait up…

That was an ad for Cheerio some time past. These days farther down Lövőház utca on the pedestrianised part, there are other bars like Gyöngye and Shakesbeer, which have got their acts together, but even so, and along with the newer entries on that side of the street, Cheerio is the stalwart in what was reliably a boring stretch between the looming monotony of two sides of a commercial centre. In the market itself there are the pokey joints, teeming with life, but for today, at this point, a little on the reminisce, Cheerio has the vibe, the buzz, the dirt required to be included. I still wouldn’t rate it inside; one could view it as a point of its consistency, I expect!

 

©TheHairyTeacher2013

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