Mini Hungarian language lesson: the curious triple pun of Einstein.

Puns and double entendres (or is it doubles entendre?) are untranslatable, we all know this, nothing interesting here.

But not often will you come across a joke that relies on three of them in a row.

Strap in. Here's the joke:

– Einstein általános relativitáselmélete szerint mi az összefüggés a tér, idő és tömeg között?
– ???
– Ha jó az idő, a tömeg kimegy a térre.

Mini Hungarian language lesson: water spider, wonder spider.

Unusually, I need to start with a content warning: if you can't tolerate spiders, not even in cute cartoon form, please look away now. "Vizipók-csodapók" was one of probably only a handful of kid's programmes where the protagonist was an arthropod, and not even a cute little beetle, a jaunty crab or a busy bee (as in the Japanese anime Maya the Honey Bee) but a spider.

A diving bell spider.

Mini Hungarian language lesson: the secret dish.

"What's a dish universally known and eaten in your country but virtually unheard of outside it?" is a question that makes the rounds on Twitter every few months but I can't be bothered waiting for the next one.

It's "főzelék". The word itself looks as simple as the dish: "főz" is "to cook" and "-elék" is a suffix roughly meaning "the result of", so "the result of cooking".

Thanks for nothing.

The official definition is "any kind of boiled or parboiled vegetable"; closer, but still a load of bollocks.

Mini Hungarian language lesson: house of cards

A historic house being demolished to make way for yet another hotel is an everyday occurrence in downtown Budapest.

But today's news about the demise of the house that used to host the pub called "The Wichmann" is sadder than most. The pub itself was owned and operated by nine-times canoe world champion Tamás Wichmann. With its stripped-down interior, welcoming atmosphere and legendary schnitzel sandwiches it was a unique place we kept returning to in the noughties.

Mini Hungarian language lesson: jack-of-all-trades.

If you're a jack-of-all-trades, the implication is that you're a master of none, but what do you call someone who is a master of a thousand trades?

Well, in Magyar you say "ezermester". The word literally translates as "thousand master", they're handymen who can do any work around the house.

And if you remember my earlier thread about "eszperente", the linguistic game of saying things without using any vowels other than "e", it's a real cracker in that too.

Mini Hungarian language lesson: uprising.

As today is the anniversary of the 1956 Revolution, I decided not to talk about the events. Not because they aren't worth talking about but I don't know enough about it.

Coming from Transylvania, it just isn't part of our living memory. What I will talk about is how people talked about it in the past.

So just as a quick primer: on this day in 1956 a wave of student demonstrations started, this culminated in the toppling of the gigantic Stalin statue in Budapest and the occupation of the national radio building.

Mini Hungarian language lesson: a very Transylvanian funeral.

If you're confused about Eastern Europe, here's the tale of the funeral of a Székely friend's elderly stepfather.

Some of the details may have been embellished but to quote Vonnegut “All this happened, more or less.” After my friend's father passed away, his mother, a Székely woman then in her 70s, remarried to a Romanian Turk, a retired ice-cream salesman and also widowed.

He was really Albanian but as all Muslims were usually called Turks around there, Turk he was and that was that.

Mini Hungarian language lesson: phallic Friday.

Okay, it's time to address the elephant in the room. Ooh, err.

"Fasz" on its own is a succinct, cunt-level offensive word for the penis, be it in the context of humans or animals.

But as Orwell said, some animals are more equal. "Hangyafasz" is the dick of an ant, and is used to describe the tiniest of things.

"Ha egy hangyafasznyit is figyelnél..." ("If you paid just an antcockful of attention...")

Mini Hungarian language lesson: spike.

Today's lesson comes courtesy of @andraswf because we have to talk about a problem we have.

Not us two but as a nation.

Yes, I'm talking about drink, specifically drink before going to work. I don't know when it started but it was definitely rife behind the Iron Curtain. There's an anecdote about the Soviets banning 200 ml vodka bottles to stop this practice, arguing nobody would drink a full litre before taking up their shift. And they were right, people didn't.

I'm going to do a cooking thread about the humble aubergine salad. Or the posh aubergine salad, depending on where you're from. Unlike in the UK, they're a staple food in the Middle East, the Balkans, all the way up to Transylvania.

The reason?

The Ottoman Empire. First of all, let's stick them in the oven, preferably at around 170C. You can try a higher setting too. Either way, be warned that they are prone to exploding, so you might want to put some foil or a tray on the shelf below.