Outrage in Cucumberland!

I was originally going to write this column about America, as I have been in the "Old Country" for the last couple of weeks, most recently holed up in room 25 of the Tides Inn, a dingy motel north of Seattle made famous as the seaside love nest of Richard Gere and Deborah Winger in the 1980s movie "An Officer and a Gentleman." But aside from some serious barnyard noises emanating from room 26, I haven't really seen or heard anything here hot and juicy enough for me to change this page's normal menu of Hungarian-flavored tidbits. Meanwhile, there seems to have been a regular feast of succulent mini-scandals and outrages dished out in Hungary while I've been away.

Our first delicious scandal involves former news anchor Judit Stahl. The host of the successful TV2 cooking show "Stahl konyhája" ("Stahl's kitchen") - and author of three cookbooks - is being accused of stealing recipes from famous English TV chef/sexpot Nigella Lawson.

Catfight in the kitchen? Hungo gastro queen Judit Stahl (left) is being accused of helping herself to the work of UK cookery empress Nigella Lawson.

Tabloid Színes Bulvár Lap says that a reader brought to their attention some striking similarities between Lawson's books (unavailable in Hungary) and those of Stahl. According to the paper, Lawson's first books and Stahl's highly successful debut Enni jó ("Eating is Good") are strikingly similar in appearance and content; one has to dig in just a few pages to find Judit apparently eating off Nigella's plate. In the foreword to her book Stahl calls herself a "professional eater" - "hivatásos evő" - while Lawson writes, "My qualification is as an eater." Several recipes are not only nearly identical, but are described with nearly identical language. The most shocking revelation involves the recipe for "Tündértorták" (literally, "fairy cakes"), which Stahl claims she dreamed up. Lawson's book contains the same recipe under the title "Fairy Cakes." The paper also points out that the pictures in the books are rather similar as well.

Unsurprisingly, the paper couldn't reach Stahl for comment, as she was apparently busy shooting an episode of "Stahl konyhája." Which is, by the way, the exact translation of the title of Lawson's show: "Nigella's Kitchen."

Meanwhile, Lawson is scheduled to come to Hungary some time in the coming months, to preside over the publication of the first Hungarian editions of her books, a trip we hope will lead to a televised cook-off between the two spirited women. Or at least a knife fight.

Next, we have the almost-too-good-to-be-true story about a woman who is alleged to have been a spy for Romania while enjoying "intimate relationships" with three leading Hungarian politicians. According to various press reports, the National Security Office (NBH) suspects one Ildikó Szatmári and her husband, Tibor Szatmári, of spying for Hungary's historic enemy while Ildikó was an employee of the Government Office for Hungarian Minorities Abroad (HTMH) and Tibor was working as a liaison between the Democratic Alliance of Hungarians in Romania (RMDSZ) and the Hungarian government.

Please tell us the shag was worth it, Pisti

With relations between Hungary and Romania being generally as bad as those between the US and France, the spying allegations left some Hungarians spitting blood. But the rest of us were drooling over the far more intriguing question of who Ildikó was supposedly shagging. The lucky - and now unlucky - three are said to be József Bálint-Pataki, the former president of the HTMH, Education Minister Bálint Magyar, and István Hiller (at left in picture, with Szatmári), president of the ruling Hungarian Socialist Party, himself a former minister of culture.

As you might expect, everyone involved in what I find it impossible not to call the "Mata Szatmári" case has denied everything. (Mata Hari was a Dutch exotic dancer convicted of being a spy in World War I.) But right-wing daily Magyar Nemzet claims that the NBH has intercepts of phone conversations involving Ildikó and her three alleged "contacts" can prove that the dangerous liaisons actually took place. Meanwhile, both Ildikó and Bálint-Pataki have lost their gigs at the HTMH, and Magyar and Hiller are longtime members of a political culture in which a nice little office shag comes as naturally as in room 26 of the Tides Inn. But let's not jump to conclusions, especially since there seem to be more deliciously vile details yet to leak out and be savored. Mmmm.

In other disgusting news, a scattering of mouse droppings was recently discovered on the shelves of an Auchan hypermarket in Szigetszentmiklós, next to the baby cookies (babapiskóta). While this may not be so bad, what happened next was actually pretty alarming. Apparently a team of food safety officials went to the same store a few days later, and found that the mouse turds had been replaced by mouse poison. Meanwhile, on Wednesday morning, TV2 reported that a customer found the legs and the tail of a mouse in a kalács, one of those Hungarian delicacies that simply has no decent English translation ("milk loaf" is as close as you are going to get).

The poop, the poison and the mouse loaf - which was bought from an unidentified retailer - gave the country's Consumer Protection Authority a golden opportunity to make heavily-publicized raids on Hungary's leading food retailers, after which many were left facing heavy fines. The inspectors found problems not only with hygiene, but with labeling (illegible Hungarian customer information stickers and products having more than one price label were the most common). In addition to Auchan, which will have to pay Ft 3.75 million in fines, UK-owned Tesco got hit with sanctions totaling a hefty Ft 20.4 million, Lidl will have to pay Ft 5 million, and Cora Ft 1 million. As for whether it is just a coincidence that most of the stores raided were foreign-owned, even though such retailers are usually far less hygienic and professionally-run than their locally-owned competitors, I'd bet you a whole box of mousemeat pies that the answer is nem.

Not that being wholly-Hungarian-owned is enough to keep a company out of trouble. Budapest's public transport operator BKV Rt is suffering from an almost countless number of mini-outrages. Last Monday a BKV employee became the second trolibusz (electric bus) driver to suffer a serious electric shock while on the job in just two weeks. On the same day, an unidentified passenger ended up in the hospital after a No. 4 tram ran into a No. 6 on the corner of Ferenc körút and Üllői út, while over at Batthyány tér riders found themselves being doused by rainwater leeching into the freshly-renovated metro station. Meanwhile, on Sunday yet another Ikarus 412 city bus caught fire, bringing the total to 18 over the past two years.

As in many cases, the BKV's troubles have been compounded by rather unpersuasive public-relations efforts. According to daily Népszabadság, BKV Deputy Director László Menyhért responded to the latest Ikarus fire by pointing out that the flames never reached the passenger area thanks to the extensive (and expensive) modifications to the buses. You know, as if it would be asking too much not to have the buses burst into flames in the first place. And if this wasn't enough to scare everyone away, the director of the BKV's trolleybus department downplayed the non-fatal electrocution of four passengers this year by saying that the charge only "feels like something has bitten their hands a little bit."

Taxi!