Caught In The Middle

On a recent visit to Melbourne, a colleague casually pointed out a sports stadium, saying that it was the only building left of the 1956 Olympics held in that city. It was the swimming arena, she said. I was momentarily stunned – even though I had been to Melbourne several times before, including on holiday, I had never thought to see if the venue of the greatest water polo ever, still existed. And apparently it was still there, the sole remaining venue of those Olympics 54 years ago.

Ervin Zádor and the 'Blood in the Water' match.

Anyone with a Hungarian connection will understand the significance of the venue: it was the scene of the so-called ‘Blood in the Water’ match in which Hungary defeated the Soviet Union in the semi-finals of water polo.  The clue to all this is the date: the match took place on 6 December 1956, a month after the Soviet Union crushed the Hungarian revolution. It is not hard to imagine the atmosphere that must surrounded the event, with the Hungarians,  far away from their home, which was been torn apart by the Soviets. The crowd that day was decidedly partisan, there many local Hungarians present, plus, Americans and Australians who had no love for the Soviet Union. It was a rough affair from the start but when the Hungarian player, Ervin Zádor was punched in the eye by a member of the Soviet team and emerged from the water with blood streaming down his face, the crowd erupted. Officials fared the worst and called the match off with Hungary leading 4-0. The headlines the next day read, ‘Blood in the Water’, and the legend was born. Hungary went on to win the gold medal, beating Yugoslavia 2-1.

The Westpac Centre, July 2010.

The match has recently been captured in two films: ‘Children of Glory’, includes a re-enactment of the ‘blood in the water’ match whilst a documentary ‘Freedom’s Fury’ reunites players from both sides who tell the story of the ‘bloodiest game in Olympic history’.

Today the venue is known as the Westpac Centre and is the home of the Collingwood Football Club and the Victorian Institute of Sport. It was closed when I made the trek there but I am not sure it is open to the public as such. However as you can clearly see, the glass facade with its distinctive vertical panes in the background of the photo of Zádor, are clearly visible today. The original pool itself is gone, judging by photos of the inside. I hope there is a plaque somewhere in the building commemorating the events of 6 December all those years ago.

As I stood opposite the stadium, taking the photo above, and thinking of that match, and those young men so far from home, an unmistakable sound caught my ear. Two young mothers, their young children in strollers, walked passed me, talking to each other. At that moment, I caught the oh so familiar sound of Hungarian being spoken. A chill went up my spine and I smiled. Hungarians, you just can’t get away from them.  Then, something must have got into my eye I guess, as I couldn’t see quite so clearly.

Thirteen years ago, in 1997, we lived in Budapest, in the district of Újpest, at 63 Munkásotthon utca. It was a special time in our lives and one that I have many fond memories of. Or at least I do now! Our apartment, on the third floor, was the base from which I began my exploration of Budapest, and Hungary. From this address we would walk the kilometre to the main underground railway station at Újpest and then onto to Budapest and beyond. Now, through the wonders of the Internet I can see again the apartment building we first lived in and take the same walk to the underground railway station.

I have been waiting for Google Streetview to “arrive” in Hungary but I now see that eXtreme Soft Group S.R.L , a Romanian company, is providing the first “street-level imaging” service for Eastern and Central Europe. I can re-explore the streets and places I once did all those years ago. The world has shrunk indeed.

For a full-screen view click on the small red square in the top right-hand corner of the photo. You can explore from this link as well: http://www.norc.at/pano/gVTYmF4k/.

We attended the James Taylor and Carole King “Troubadour Reunion” concert at Vector Arena in April and it was a fantastic evening.  I grew up with the music of James Taylor and so when I heard he was coming to Auckland I knew I had to see him perform live.  We were lucky to get perfect seats (second row, just slightly left of center) so the view was perfect.  My over-whelming impression from the evening was just how nice a guy James seems to be.  I mean, his music would suggest that, being all mellow and the like,  but when you are just a few metres away from him, you can sense the warmth and decency within him.  Anyway, here is a video we took of one of the numbers from their encore, “You Can Close Your Eyes”.  Enjoy.

Ah, the magic, moment has arrived.  The time when we need to take the next step forward, to move up a gear, to make a step change with the plum ‘wash’, and other phrases that betray too many Corporate rev up events. In plain English, it is time for distillation.  How do I know it is time?  Well, it is more a matter of practicalities. Easter is approaching fast and we have out-of-town plans after that, so best to get moving. Phone calls are made, arrangements are coordinated and last-minute instructions given. Tomorrow will be the big day. But first, one or two last-minute tasks to do to prepare the ‘wash’ for distillation.

Step 1: Measure the Alcohol Potential

This is new to me. “What is the reading on the hydrometer?”, I’m asked, as I seek instructions. “What ?“, I reply, clearly showing my ‘newbie’ status in the land of the Still Boys.  I discover, eventually, that  one of the items I had purchased is used to measure the alcohol potential of the ‘wash’ and should be used in a before, during and after manner. Well, let’s skip the first two stages and go straight to the “What does it say now?” stage.  In the end I have trouble reading the hydrometer, and decide that stage isn’t for me anyway and go straight to Step 2, The Squeezing of The Fruit.

Step 2: The Squeezing of The Fruit

Squeeze, baby, squeeze!

Having decided to dispense with the hydrometer, I now have to drain the ‘wash’  so that only liquid is left.  This is done by pouring the ‘wash’ through a pillow case, preferably an old one and definitely one you don’t wish to use as a pillow case again.  We need another bucket for this and several other pairs of hands. It turns out to be quite a mission and so we head for the bath.  Dean has instructed me that it is essential to squeeze as much liquid out of the fruit, securely encased in the pillow case, as is possible. For it is in the inner recesses of the fruit that lies the real flavour, the aromas that will make this pálinka taste of, well, plums (and not old pillow cases). So we squeeze, and squeeze again.  Squeeze, baby, squeeze!  And slowly we wring out as much liquid as we can.  I now understand why grapes are trampled on, rather than squeezed.  Funny the things you learn.  After an hour, I am left with left with about 17 litres of plum juice, fermented plum juice, fermented plum juice containing I don’t know how much alcohol because of the hydrometer ‘situation’ (See Step 1).

Step 3: Distillation

The Still All Connected Up and Ready to Produce!

The next day I take the bucket of fermented-plum-juice-containing-I-don’t-know-how-much-alcohol to the house where the still resides.  Dean awaits his acolyte and we begin. It is actually pretty simple.  We pure the liquid into the still, ensure it is connected right, and turn it on. And wait. And wait some more. For the first forty-five minutes or so nothing happens. Or at least nothing we can see.  But the heat is rising and the liquid is beginning its transformation into ‘hooch’. After forty minutes or so, we turn on the water that flows through the condenser part of the still.  This is part of the magic, although it is pure science.  The alcohol boils at a lower temperature than water.  Water boils at 100° Celsius, while alcohol (technically ethanol) is boils at 78°.  When it boils it is converted in a gas (like steam when water boils). The gas travels up the still, passes besides the condenser which cools the gas so that it becomes liquid. That liquid is alcohol. Pure and simple. Amazing really. Especially to me who stopped chemistry as soon as he could at the end of the Fourth Form at high school.

The first few drops appear

After fifty minutes, the first liquid starts to flow down the tube into the awaiting plastic jug. Actually the first liquid produced is (mostly) methanol, which is poisonous, as in it will make you go blind and kill you. Badly.  We discard the first 150 ml  of liquid.  Discard in the sense of throw it away, down the drain and far away.

We are now getting (mostly) ethanol/alcohol and wait while up to 2 litres is produced.  After the first litre we need to do a measure and taste.  We pour a small sample into a glass tube, insert a hydrometer into the tube and measure the alcohol.  This is a different hydrometer than before so I can read this one and beside, Dean is clear it is essentially to measure the alcohol content at this stage. It is a whopping (my description) 63% and the teaspoon-size we sample packs a powerful punch.  But it does taste of plums so we are on the right track. After 2 litres we measure again and this time the alcohol is down to 60%.

Four Bottles Of Home-made Plum Brandy aka 'Péntek Pálinka'

At this stage we  need to smell and measure much more frequently.  This is because as the liquid gets to a higher temperature, different stuff is produced. For example, propanol is produced between 82° and 97° and above 100° you start to get things like Butanol, which, according to Wikipedia, “may be used as a fuel in an internal combustion engine”. Right. We don’t want any of that!  After much discussion, smelling the latest 250ml of liquid,  and general blokey stuff, we stop production at 2.8 litres and turn off the still.
One final measure of the alcohol reveals a strength of 56%. This is really too high to be enjoyed and so need to take this down to a more ‘drinkable’ level and after much discussion and more blokey stuff, we settle on a desired outcome of 46% alcohol.  And how do we get to that level? Simple, add water! Yes, we determine how much water is required using a special formula. In our cases we need to add another 626mls of water. And that is that. We are done. We pour the finished product into bottles for distribution among the rest of the Still Boys, attach labels (Péntek Pálinka or ‘Friday Fruit Brandy’)  and were are finished.  Not quite as we, like all good Still Men, tiidy up after ourselves and leave everything nice and clean.

The Last Step: Drink

The moment arrives. Into a shot glass, a quick smell and then down the hatch!  Man, it tastes good. Very good.  In fact it tastes like plum brandy. Which is about all I need to say really.

Summary

• 8 Kilos of Fortune Plums (red-fleshed), stoned
• 4 Kilos of sugar
• 60 gms of yeast nutrient salts
• 20gm Lalvin EC 1118 Champagne Yeast
• 2 large vitamin B tablets, crushed
• Wash began on Sunday, 21 March 2010
• Wash drained and squeezed, Tuesday, 30 March
• Distillation 31 March
• 1st liter produces 63% alcohol
• 2nd liter produces 60% alcohol
• Next 250 ml produces 45% alcohol
• Last 380 ml produces 40% alcohol
• Final take is 2.88 liters at 56% alcohol
• Diluted to 46% with 626 ml of water

Homedistiller.org

This is really the best place to go for all your home distillation needs.  Comprehensive is an understatement, and it contains everything you need to know about the process, the science, and everything else connected with making your own ‘hooch’.  If you are contemplating this hobby, this site is essential.

It is one week later. One week of “plop, plop, gurgle, gurgle”, and the smell of fermentation throughout the house. Earthy, yeasty smells, smells that are cracking of the ancient code of making alcohol. I stir the “wash” every day as Dean suggested. 7 days later the fermentation process continues regularly and consistently. The fruit is holding up well, the plum halves retaining their shape and colour nicely. After the lid is lifted, there is a sort of foamy crust on the fruit, with an almost mousse like texture. A slow, steady stirring and it is gone. As the Holy Week approaches, the prospect of distillation looms.

The 'wash' one week later. Before stirring.

The 'wash' one week later. After stirring.