The cheapest (large) beer at Little Café Near Home is now well over a buck fifty. My preferred beer is nudging up against two dollars for half a liter. Therefore I’m spending more time at the Budvar bar next door. Tonight, however, I stopped by LCNH to snag a bottle of wine. Tea, bless her heart, a fine and happy soul who understands that life is but a joke, redirected my eye from the 95-crown wine selection to the hungarian outlier. Twenty crowns. Today, about ninety-five cents.
It’s sitting on the table in front of me as I write this. I’m a little bit afraid. I will open the bottle tonight. I will drink at least some of the contents. It’s just my imagination I know, but I already feel the hangover coming on. But for science, it must be done. Wish me luck.
As I drive the cork screw home, my only thought is, “if it’s undrinkable I can always add it to my carp and kofola recipe.”
Hungarians do a few things well. Wine is not one of them. They have an official (state) 4-star rating for their wines … I’ve had a 3-start that made me retch, and wonder what 1-star would do to my stomach (or a wood finish)