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lines. In the middle of the square is a statue, which was erected by public subscription, to the memory of Mihály Vörösmarty (1800 – 1855), who was an important romantic poet. Carved from Carrara marble, it must be covered in ugly transparent plastic from late autumn until early spring to protect it from cracking. During the winter the middle of the square looks as if Christo the packaging artist has been working here. The poet himself is the centre of the composition, while the figures around him are reciting his famous patriotic poem, whose opening line is carved into the pedestal of the statue – “Be faithful to your land forever, O Hungarians.” Below this line, the black, round spot contains the most precious of all the donations that were collected to build the statue: a church beggar from Eastern Hungary offered the lucky coin she inherA Celebrated Coin, the ited from her mother. Donation of a Church The dominant building Beggar on the Facade of the on the square has just been Vörösmarty Statue replaced. In the early 19th century a German language theatre stood on the site which was capable of seating 3,500 (hardly anyone spoke Hungarian in Pest at that time). Later it was a department store. A photograph of these buildings can be seen on the thick poster-pillar behind the statue (the building with the pediment is the theatre, and the department store was the building called Haas Palace). A new high-tech, glass-covered luxury office and residence complex was completed in 2007. Opposite this high-tech tour de force there is an Edwardian corner block. Its ground floor was occupied until recently by the Luxus department store, which for decades was the only place to buy “import quality” clothes. Café Gerbeaud (V. Vörösmarty tér 7.) ••• is the square’s greatest attraction, it has occupied this spot since 1858. Apart from a terrace, the café has three separate shops. The one on the left (with an entrance on Dorottya utca) is a separate café which is not always open and can be rented for special functions. The main shop opens from the square itself and is always full of tourists.
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The entrance to the right of the building is now a luxury restaurant that tries to mix tradition and innovation, gilded mirrors and flat screens (there are four of the latter.) It is called Onyx. It is worth walking through all of the rooms at Café Gerbeaud to look at the 19th century decoration and furniture, which is quite remarkable and varied. Remember that it is impolite not to check your coats in the cloakroom. After all, you are a traveller or a tourist? Don’t spoil the elegance of the place by leaving coats on the chairs. The confectioner’s occupies the ground floor of two neighbouring buildings, which is why the rooms are so different. If you can find a table near the corner window in the vaulted section on the right (when you are facing the café from outside), you will feel and hear the trains of the old underground line thundering underneath. In one of the high rooms, with a richly decorated flat ceiling, there is a portrait of Émile Gerbeaud, the Swiss confectioner who bought the shop in 1884. He started out by selling his cakes at reduced prices since only the very well-to-do could afford pastries. He invented konyakos meggy, a Hungarian bonbon which is dark chocolate filled with a sour cherry soaked in cognac. The story goes that he smashed the punch cakes whose colour was not what he had prescribed. The service in Gerbeaud is still very polite, although a little impersonal and occasionally slow. The waitresses these days are too busy to chat about the guests in code-language as their old-time counterparts once did. The dessert choice, however, is first class (unlike the layout of the menu). In addition to Hungarian specialties, Viennese classics are also available. During the long Communist years Kis Gerbeaud, the little shop in the right wing of the building, was once a world apart. In the place of Onyx (a great restaurant with one Michelin star!), there used to be an eminent meeting place for the “Gerbeaud ladies” – a group of older women who had once lived better lives. They wore lots of jewelry and drank coffee with whipped cream. It is difficult for me to recognize Kis Gerbeaud now since it has changed so much since my ersatz-grandma aunt, Mrs. Rudolf Bozóki (née Irén Engländer, 1904 – 1976) dragged me there almost every first Tuesday of the month. She boasted about my reasonably good grades to her fellow Gerbeaud ladies, and invariably, stuffed me with a cake called “corner block” (sarokház), a chocolate cake with lots of whipped cream. The ladies wore heavy perfume, had relatives in the States and Britain, and shared their bad news about every conceivable subject. And they had a terrific time, in the centre of a Central European city that had seen better days.
2011.04.20. 15:49:10