About us

My grandmother, when she wanted to address one of her grandchildren, would list all their names until she finally got the right one. This ritual became legendary in the family.

My mother would recount every time she visited Uncle Király, one of the last mohicans of the old master tailors (this is another legend; I’ll write about it someday). If I was already in the Fürdő, I mean Tisza István, oh no, József Attila Street.

In happier countries, neither a single lifetime nor generations have to contend with the plague of system and regime changes. In London and Paris, streets and squares are centuries old. Bartók, when he emigrated to America without significant financial backing, wrote in his famous farewell letter that he couldn’t live in a country where Andrássy Road's Körönd was named after the person it was named after (he even avoided writing Hitler's name). For safety's sake, let me clarify that the Körönd is now Kodály Körönd, where fate still connects the two masters. I believe even younger people are familiar with the saga of Andrássy-Stalin-People’s Republic-Andrássy Road, Oktogon-Mussolini-November 7th-Oktogon, and Berlini-Marx-Nyugati Square, and the list could go on endlessly. (But while I’m on the topic: I wouldn’t have stripped Gorky Promenade of Maxim Gorky for the beautiful Városligeti Promenade. However, I thank Újpest for the return of Görgey Artúr Street, wrongfully stripped after 1945, not just on behalf of the family, but also for the respectable, level-headed nation.)

I’ve digressed quite a bit, as usual, but not entirely, as these thoughts came to mind while my partner and her Austrian friend and I strolled through the long-unvisited Váci Street. Though it remains the heart of downtown by name, it is far from unchanged. For instance, who still remembers—or I nearly forgot myself—that it wasn’t so long ago when it became a pedestrian street. Perhaps in the 1970s. Today, it’s almost unimaginable that cars and buses once traversed it. The debut of the pedestrian street was a fantastic experience in Budapest, alongside the Danube Promenade. The tradition of Váci Street, enduring through different systems, became so strong that after this urban planning change, and much later, when the southern, more antique, and enchanting part of Váci Street also became pedestrianized and flourished magnificently, the two sections, divided by the Erzsébet Bridge and a gap of a few hundred meters, still jealously guard their name. Both are so distinctly patinated and unique that it would be worth officially differentiating the two with some descriptors.

While I bombarded my much-younger partner and her Austrian friend with these old stories, we admired shop windows interesting to the ladies and, invited by the familiar Ottó figure displayed on the street, we entered the Sörforrás establishment for the first time in many years. Above all, we craved a glass of beer, and to everyone’s pleasant surprise, the Sörforrás name truly lives up to its promise with Pilsner Urquell, my absolute favorite. Our friend gained even more respect in my eyes when it turned out that this was also her favorite beer.

Incidentally, the interior was another pleasant surprise. Instead of a rustic pub, we were greeted by a comfortable, tastefully restrained, elegant restaurant with leather armchairs and stylish lamps. At first, we only thought of having snacks to accompany the beer, but the salmon in sweet chili sauce, foie gras in Tokaji sauce, truffle with red onion jam, and duck breast with smoked quail egg were so delicious as appetizers that we decided to order more. The sautéed porcini mushrooms on a hotplate (not just good on the menu) and slices of foie gras with cinnamon roasted apples and jasmine rice were simply delightful. Our guest, a self-proclaimed gourmand, was thrilled and declared that on her next visit, she wants to start here.