Grandfather’s Slivka

How do you describe a culture? Some people would start with architecture, dress or dance. Others still would discuss language and literature. If you really look deeply into the Czech psyche beyond the complaining and constant nagging, it begins to become clear that they try to celebrate all of the same things that everyone else does. They are a little quieter, a little less likely to see a friend in a stranger, but they know when it is time to celebrate. Czechs can not only put on a show, but they can really break out the booze.

Moravians make and consume many varieties of moonshine. It can be made from almost any fruit (apples, pears, peaches and even cherries), but the real thing is made from “světsky”. Světsky are a kind of plum that grows throughout the region. Their moonshine has a slight taste, a little sweet and raisiny. Pruney might be a better description, but that might be seen as a detractor given the prune’s cleansing reputation. At between 100 and 120 proof it is difficult to describe Slivovice, “slivka”, as mild. Compared to gasoline, slivka’s essence is particularly flavorful and mild.

An invitation to a private home for dinner in the Czech Republic should not be taken lightly. Normally, they go out to eat or will meet at a pub. I quickly accepted Eva’s dinner invitation and responded that I would be in Moravia in a few hours. I was not sure how to get to her village from Brno and explained that I would appreciate it if she could go with me to her village. Getting lost in the Czech Republic is not a goal, nor should it be attempted by non-Czech speakers.

I stepped off of the bus in Brno in front of the Grand Hotel. The first thing I saw was her. Eva is around six feet (1.9m) tall and she would be a supermodel in almost any country. She is always dressed in a stylish and remarkably romantic way. Not that she was provocative or inappropriate, but she was always stunning. She has a great voice. It is not squeaky or thin, but feminine with a real, rich and booming sound. Please forgive any impolite description, but she has a sexy voice that is unusual to say the least.

We caught a bus from the main bus station in Brno to the big village near her small village. Finally, after an hour and a half and three busses we arrived at her grandparent’s house. It was a nice little place with a great porch and a yard surrounded by a low wall. Fearing the billowing cloud of chain-smoke, I decided to sit on the porch. A few minutes later, Evička brought me some Czech strawberry soda.

At this point in my stay, I spoke almost no Czech. I could utter the occasional useful phrase, but it is a testament to hospitality for Eva’s family to try and communicate with me. Eva’s English was not so good, but she tried hard to communicate with me. It is a shame that the education system teaches them to read, but never to speak.

A few minutes after a brief discussion about dinner, an elderly man arrived and left a glass bottle filled with a clear liquid near where I was sitting. He said something to me and then walked into the house. I did not understand a single word that he had said to me. Without any translators around; I smiled and shook my head knowingly. Simply smiling and indicating acceptance saves a lot of face on both sides.

When you have no idea what is going on around you, it is better to just be friendly. Half a glass of strawberry soda later, Eva returned. She had a drink with her when she sat down across the porch from me. She put her feet on the arm of the chair where I was sitting. I am sure I was supposed to understand what she was saying, but it was one of those times that the translator was less than understandable. Finally, I got the hint when she started pointing at my feet toward the bottle that the old man left. “Why didn’t you open it?”, she questioned me. I really had no idea what was in the bottle nor did I have any idea why it was all of a sudden it was so important.

“That is grandpa’s slivka”, she exclaimed excitedly.

“Oh, really?” I replied having no idea what slivka was, I gathered that the older gentleman had been her grandfather. Eva stretched to reach over to the bottle and quickly opened it pouring a finger or two into her nearly full glass.

The first mistake I made, was not in accepting her finger more than a splash, the mistake was in choking most of it down on the first draw. I can remember a vaguely sweet taste followed by the gates of hell opening up and grabbing my throat. Motes of fire shot down to my belly as I started to choke and gasp. My reaction besides looking like I drank a bottle of fire was “smooth”. That was choked out of me as if I was being shaken violently.

“Don’t you like it?” she asked. Again with the unanswerable questions, I think I answered this one correctly, but probably spent most of the night sleeping. Blind drunkenness will do that to you. Be careful around Grandpa’s slivka, it is not dangerous. It surely is not safe.